Narelle Atkins' book Falling For the Farmer changed my outlook on farmers. I thought that they were all bloated, cow-****-stinking retardates married to toothless crones plagued with sub-clinical glandular abnormalities, syndromic mal-absorbtion complaints & chronic-fluid-retention problems. But, according to "Narelle," farmers can possess good qualities. Indeed, for any broad who'd choose to suffer with endometriosis forever rather than to roll in the hay with an analphabetic, sister-*******, tobacco-chawin' hayseed, this novel will plug (and clog) your barren ports tighter than a Cuban baseball. ¡Viva Fidel y su hermano Raúl más la revolución de Irán! Come on masons: Hurry up & bury Luciferian Billy F. Graham as I can't hold my bowels much longer! Hurry up & plant the self-professed-demon-possessed Robin F. Williams as I won't contain this bladder much longer while queers demand that the perfectly-normal commonweal of Wisconsin change its inoffensive name to Wussconsin.

"No Tasha! You know it's a lie!" Tyrone screamed in the presence of Jamaal, his twin brother. Tasha smiled because Ty was always wigging out for nothing. "Look, I'm confused by the 2 of you. Are you lovers or just students of gynecology?" Jamaal asked in a serious tone. "I'm a woman and I have the genitalia that defines the purpose of gynecological study and I think we should all just cool off in a hot tub with our clothes off," Tasha concluded. "Okay, okay, you win," Vivian whined while removing her bikini *******. Later it was revealed that Tyrone and Jamaal were in fact Siamese twins joined at the ****. "That's why neither of you have ever accepted my invitation to go bowling!" Tasha exclaimed while inserting a gerbil or a hamster up her big ****-opening.