What the turtle-dick is happening, all you wiener-slingers who think you’re about to make sex with a super hot soccer mom but then they yank their face off and start asking for the manager holy FUCK it’s a goddamn Karen your cock looks up at you, gives you a single, resolute, hell-nah shake of its sea-creature-like head, then promptly sha-loops back up into your pelvis like a panicked turtle going back in its shell, the Karen starts quizzing you about megachurch and fruitcakes and the latest model of consumer-friendly minivan, your dick starts shaking and squealing in abject terror, crawling up past your organs in an effort to hide, it’s retreating so damn hard that it’s collapsing into itself like a goddamn neutron star, holy shit, this Karen has scared your dick into becoming a cosmic black hole, can’t stave off the inevitable accretion of matter you’re about to wipe out the entire damn planet I AM BECOME DEATH DESTROYER OF WORLDS—
And THAT, my friends, is why you avoid making sex with a crazy-ass Karen! Jesus fucking Christ!
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