"Oh Gordon," Tammy began, "I thought you were deeply in love with me? The way you painted my house; lifted my fat sister high above your head; punched my mother to make her stop breathing and then punched her again to make her start."
   Gordon looked astonished and amazingly **** with his long ***** and urbane mannerisms. "I'm going away Tammy to a *****-shortening clinic in another country."
   "Oh no Gordy! Please don't have your ***** shortened! I love it so much. It brings such comfort to me," Tammy sobbed while her medium-big ******* hardened like crazy.
   "Listen Tammy: my ***** is too long. Admit it. Two weeks ago a woman with a hairy crotch threatened me with birth-control pills for ten minutes. Ten minutes!"
   Tammy turned away ashamed. "That was me Gordy. I was wearing a fake crotch wig to fool you."
   Gordon chuckled at that. "Here," he said while offering his ***** to her selflessly, "take my *****. Grip it firmly. I promise that I won't have it shortened."
   That August Tammy had a baby who was so black that Gordon suspected that she'd been ******* Negroes and he was right.