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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The more she kneaded the dog’s head, the more he burrowed into her hands.

“He must smell my dog!” she said.

“Actually, he’s a cadaver dog,” said the scientist. “So he’s probably just attracted to your expressionless face and your icy, cumbersome hands.”

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