FALCON PUNCH!
I’m actually excited to know what her idea of dirty would entail if this plate of crumbled bits of shit is cute. I’m assuming you’d need to lay a tarpaulin on the bed, invite several friends around and have the ambulance on speed dial before you even got close. She’s cutting to the chase with style; the feral delivery pizza says: “come around now, I’ll settle for anyone,” the cheap wine and coke chaser says: “you don’t even have to knock” and that miscellaneous… crushed carrot cake? Apple crumble? Whatever it is, all I’m hearing is “I want you to use my mouth as your own personal sex toilet.” And you’re having boy issues? No fucking shit.
