Thanks for explaining that to me. I always wondered why people made fun of me because of that.
Maybe you should go on a national tour and explain all of your jokes so all the tards can understand them? You could tour with Dane Cook. I bet you guys have the same fan base.
Oh! So hateful, rex.
Nevertheless, I had the very same notion. And, my resounding success with explaining to you has been sufficient assurance that I can now explain my jokes to anybody. But, just to make sure I've driven it home plainly enough...
You have a sexual relationship with your own footwear, rex.
To you, a booty call consists of taking off your shoes.
Walking past a Foot Locker makes your dick get hard.
You share those tender, transcendant moments of "The Little Death" with a Nike Swoosh, while sweat-resistant elastic snuggles at your balls.
You look forward to the Day-After-Thanksgiving sales like an annual visit to the Bunny Ranch.
You make your "O-Face" for a gray toe-patch.
You fuck innocent socks, rex. Socks that only wanted to keep your feet warm and your toes dry.
...Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to put a phone call in to the people who handle that reprehensible pile of teeth and Gap clothes, Dane Cook. ...A call which they won't return because they hate me so very, very much.
