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Oh delicous feces, so brown so true; so warm, so smelly so bloody so poo. I look down at you floating between my fat white legs; Which part of you is chicken? Which part of you was eggs? Sometimes you burn me from the hotsauce last night; while other times a little push you come out just right. I love you my brown, my green, my sometimes yellow; I love how your smell rises up and says 'hello'. I flush you goodbye and try not to pout, as you remind me of prison cock, except for the fact that you were going out.
3:29 AM
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