Today I met a chap who'd worked for the last fifteen years as a professional bum at the Sydney University School Of Proctology and is now out of work. He bent over, and was penetrated by, an entire generation of proctologists and urologists and now it has come to naught. His job is no more because of the unrelenting march of technology (pictured).
"They each have their own." he wept. "They can take them home, they don't have to worry about sick pay and, I'm told, it makes quite an attractive vase."
I attempted to console him without much success.
"I was always clean but plastic practice bums you have to wear gloves with, who knows why? " more sobbing, "I did fart occasionally though.....Do you think I farted too often?"
I said I didn't think so and suggested he could work as a living vase. It would be a real talking point at parties.
"They each have their own." he wept. "They can take them home, they don't have to worry about sick pay and, I'm told, it makes quite an attractive vase."
I attempted to console him without much success.
"I was always clean but plastic practice bums you have to wear gloves with, who knows why? " more sobbing, "I did fart occasionally though.....Do you think I farted too often?"
I said I didn't think so and suggested he could work as a living vase. It would be a real talking point at parties.
OMG! You do have a very weird mind! lol
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