The Secret to Being a Sensitive Guy
"Cut off your right testicle," she demanded.
Not to displease her,
I sliced it off with a kitchen knife
and cauterized the stump with an electric iron.
"Cut off your left testicle," she demanded.
I snipped it away
with a pair of garden shears
and stuck it in an olive jar.
"Good," she said.
Then she stripped naked,
stood in front of me, hungry as a piranha.
"Ravage me," she demanded.
"Let's play Scrabble," I said.
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