There are most definitely times when happiness is measured in degrees; but the same goes for my sadness…
Frankly, I can’t stand the hypocrisy. These people think I’m disgusting but I submit that they are the truly unclean creatures. The missus puts me in her rectum one day and straight into junior’s mouth I go the next, without so much as a bath. They wonder why the flu spreads through the family like an Australian bushfire.
At times though, I prefer the ass over the armpit…at least I feel like a man, not a dirty jock strap. But no matter how I look at it, Galileo never intended for me to be put in places where the sun don’t shine.
The worst days are when bits of undigested food make their way through the digestive system to the sphincter. I admit, the old lady’s a mighty fine cook with Asian cuisine, but it doesn't stop the posterior end of the food’s travels from being grotesque. The other day I was wearing an undigested popcorn kernel as a hat.
Competition is never missing in the life of a thermometer either, but my work is not appreciated. Barometers are always bragging about dealing with tougher elements of nature. But I know the elements of nature…and how quickly three platters of refried beans can traverse the human GI tract without warning.
- + for a thermometer
- Deep penetrations in females
- - for a thermometer
- Deep penetrations in males.
- Digested food in my face.
- Undigested food in my face.
- No union.
- Foul odors.
