Hat tip to Scott Sorensen for sending me to this.
We were musing about this today.
What if I took it up as a new hobby?
How many forks would I have to jab into my gluteus maximus before getting it right?
What if I actually began breaking dinner forks with my ass?
And then Arden imagined inviting friends over, and how she'd have to serve them salad and pasta with no forks, and sheepishly explain to them,
"Sorry about the spoons, but my mom broke all our forks with her ass."
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