My favourite sex toys include: bulging, leaking, fuckable wallets; fractured gooner minds and most importantly: the last, sexless credit line. Always in that order.
Write My name on your body.
Then repress, repress, repress these urges.
Go about your day, don’t look at your phone and definitely don’t open those messages or links I send over the course of the day.
I’m applying extra pressure to the neck today.
Finsexuals don’t think or leak in real currency.
They’re just another set of empty, exchangeable symbols to you. From now on, it’s bitch pounds, reject dollars, beta euros.
I want a Newcastle / Durham / Sheffield boot b*tch to accompany Me on a shopping trip.
I’ve been having some evil cravings.
You may inquire.
Serving toys / 4 digit club wallets ONLY 🚫