Giant Hand Job

A woman in Paris has fallen in love with the Eiffel Tower. She had a commitment ceremony with Tower, changed her last name to Eiffel and then tapped its ass. Hopefully, she got some sort of vaginal tetanus shot before the honeymoon and avoided rust burn.

This is known as Objectum Sexual, the sexual, physical and emotional attraction to things. Better known as its clinical diagnosis … crazy.

Who looks at an object and says, “Yeah, I want a piece of that.” A brick layer?

These are not teenagers experimenting with watermelons; these are adults that find love in things. Suddenly, I’m less concerned about the registered sex offender on my block and more concerned about my car’s tailpipe. How would I know if something happened? My mechanic doesn’t do DNA testing. I asked and the conversation was awkward.

This is something I could’ve lived without knowing.

Great, now when I see the prayer hands at ORU, I imagine a giant hand job.

Towers are not sexual objects, they are hard, rigid and soulless, much like your boss.

I heard she once dated a knife.  I think she’s scarred.