Why Google and I Deserve Each Other
Some people know how to deliver a load of crap, while others know how to handle it. Google has special toilets that allow 14 options after you have released the chocolate hostages. I can generate a massive data drop. Sergey and Brin, let’s start negotiations again.
We are a match made in Toto.
I would love the cleasing options: front and rear – and the dryer? Warm air blowing on my ass? Sweet. Oscillating? Ummmmmmmm, ummmmmm.
Wand cleaning? Man! They have a way to clean my wand? Or is this a preliminary rectal exam? Or is this spyware?
I’m also concerned that the stop button is massive and brightly colored. Has there been an accident using GooglePoop?
Perhaps “wand cleaning” means you are being cleaned BY a wand? If so, distressing if it slips and winds up giving you a proctology exam.
The warm air on your privates, though, is killed. Every time Ben gets out of the shower, he uses my hand-held hair dryer for the warm air effect — ionized, no less. He gets very indignant if I accidentally turn off the ions. “I want the feeling of warm ions on my nuts!”
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I wish I knew what the wand was for. Mini roto rooter?
Oh man, Ion Nuts? Sounds yummy.