Tom Oatmeal

A Blog About Intercourse from a guy who doesn't get nervous about intercourse like his friend Ricky does.

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A Fast Paced Thriller!

He pressed his ear against the door, straining to listen to the comments coming from the guests. It was difficult to make out actual words, but the bursts of laughter were all he needed to hear.

“I’ll bet they’re talking about my gigantic, disproportionate head and red, patchy face,” thought the intelligent baby who was able to attend a fundraising dinner by using a machine to blow himself up because he thought it would make him look like a man, but really it just made him look like huge baby.

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