While the following may have nothing to do with anal sex, consider it painful and unexpected, in the spirit of David Hager.
Mr. H and I went for a walk t’other day, and we ended up close to a Dunkin’ Donuts. Since I can never pass up corn syrup solids, I jabbed him in the ribs until he agreed to buy me a Dunkaccino. He’s the one that carries the wallet on our little walks. I am not to be trusted. But he needed to use the ATM, and while he mis-entered his PIN with his monkey paws, I gawped at a sign that read “Atention Dunkin Donut’s Customer’s. Use ATM before making you’r purchase.” I flailed and sputtered, and he laughed at me.
Then I noticed the sign on the other side of the beverage delivery bay: “Dunkin Donut’s Customer’s thankyou for you’r patience. All our machine’s are working again, including latte’s and gift cards. Thankyou.”
Mr. H said that the sign was funny, but how bent I got was funnier. Fine! It took me many blocks to shut up about it, and that was only because I knew I could talk about it again on the internet. My drink sucked anyway. It was diluted with the tear’s of the infant Jesu’s. At least I hope that’s what that was. You’r a jerk!