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“He jumps off the bed, scampers to a corner where he herds his dog toys, and grabs a floppy giraffe. He vivisected the giraffe a week ago. Now it’s a damaged stuffy with a neck and one leg. But he loves it, and holy shit, he loves it a lot. So much that he’s jammed it between his legs and he’s humping it. Yup, that’s my boy. He’s screwing a mutilated giraffe stuffy. “Get a room,” I shout. But he keeps going, thrusting and pumping.” — Lauren Blakely
He jumps off the bed, scampers to a corner where he herds his dog toys, and grabs a floppy giraffe. He vivisected the giraffe a week ago. Now it’s a damaged stuffy with a neck and one leg. But he loves it, and holy shit, he loves it a lot. So much that he’s jammed it between his legs and he’s humping it.
Yup, that’s my boy. He’s screwing a mutilated giraffe stuffy.
“Get a room,” I shout.
But he keeps going, thrusting and pumping.