So peoples, I got some TMI going on in this post, nothing too deep but just a little.
Last night, the lady and I got a little frisky and I started sliding of the fucking edge of the fucking bed, and put my hand out to catch myself, and holy ever motherfucking shit, if I didn't sprain the ever living shit out of my fucking thumb.
I am not kidding, I think I might have broke the mother fucker. You want to talk about a fucking mood killer, well, when I crumpled to the ground in fucking extreme pain, yeah, that killed the mother fucking mood.
I guess our bodies will end up betraying us all eventually.