What the drunken club-sex is happening, all you folks who drink too many drinks and take too many goddamn tabs and/or pills and suddenly you’re going home with a hottie, pumping your fist and hissing “Yessss” under your breath before you get it together and stumble through the door, holy shit it’s all a delirious fucking blur where’d your shirt go, whoops your pants have disappeared, you’re about to stick your wiener into the front, back, or top hole, you have no fucking clue which one it is but suddenly sobriety hits you and you realize it’s a goddamn Predator mouth, not that weak-sauce fucker from Predator: Badlands, I’m talking that sadistic cockstick from the OG movie with prime Arnold when he does that unquestionably hetero handshake with juiced-to-the-gills Carl Weathers, mother of balls you need a goddamn minigun this four-fanged monster is about to eat your dick and there’s no damn time to hide yourself in temperature-cloaking river mud Batman in Gotham fucking HAAAAAALLLPPPP—
And THAT, my friends, is why you always double-check the hole and make sure it isn’t a goddamn Predator mouth! Jesus fucking Christ!
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