My New Wuzzy Thoy
Added 2023-12-10 05:41:25 +0000 UTCI wigured I thould thell you awout my new wuzzy toy. The pwoblem ith I can’th thawk anywore affer my wight with my toy because my teef fell ouw. Oh wight. I’m noth thawking. I’m thyping. Lemme thry awen.
I have Stronic-induced encephalitis. Every muscle in my body is defunct.
I know you want to know what my new toy was like, but I need a minute to lie down after all this typing.
…
<one hour later>
You’re still here? Then I should get to the point of this post, but I need to go play with my Stronic some more first.
...
<two hours later>
Hewwow. I’m wack. I wean back. Wuck. Leth me westh a bith before I carry on.
…
<three hours later>
I’m never playing with that thing again. Stronics are a cunning trick the universe has played on womankind to get us to stop eating chocolate. My Stronic is going in the trash…
… tomorrow. Maybe. I will definitely get rid of it, though. I promise.
<crickets>
Actually, there’s a better solution to this problem: Stronic Island, where women can work and take orgasm breaks once an hour. We can even offer ourselves up as guinea pigs to sex toy manufacturers. The world needs this, I swear. Which Fetlifian scientist is going to donate $500 billion to the island-buying fund?
<crickets>
<more crickets>
Sheesh. We're selflessly offering up our time and energy, and you won’t even buy us an island. There's no gratitude in the scientific community today. The only rational solution to the Stronic problem is to become an unemployed hermit and say goodbye to the human race forever. That way, nobody will ever see me without my teeth, and I’ll die happily from Stronic-induced encephalitis.
