'I concur' - answered the luffer.
The luffer had just been asked a fair and yet difficult to answer question, a question that could not help but ladle it's own fair dose of surprisingly hard to deny logic, and wicked motive, dripping from the lips of it's arrogant deliverer - 'luffer, do you feel that soap deserves to be rubbed on
sweaty testicles just because it's such a slippery and hard to get a grip on bastardy product'?
'I concur' - answered the luffer.
In some ways a strong use of language, in other ways a weak use of language, cheeky, non-committal, and yet confident, and stiff spined, sure and uncorrupted, upsettingly so some said.
What they didn't know though, was that in that moment, when 'I concur' rolled off the the luffers sweet firm tongue, the luffer was actually in two minds.
It had seen its own fair share of sweaty balls, you see.
Life is short. Or perhaps it lasts for a really, really long time. No one is really sure. Which sucks. If they can't figure that out definitively then what else don't we really know? The perfect size for a jar? What a fuckin' miserable thought. Fuck that. Instead here are the silly, weird, unhinged, absurd, silly, stupid, completely unrelated to hinges (moslty), poorly edited, outpourings and thought vomits of a silly idiotic teddy-bear of a dickhead. Staring David 'Pinky-Von-Sox' Tieck