I once had a telephone stuck in my vagina. It was one of those sturdy old Bell rotary models. Whenever the cord would pop out, like while shopping or pumping gas, I would bend down to re-ravel it up and the rotary dial would turn, making it sound like I was sharpening pencils with my cervix. I've since learned to use a garbage bag twist-tie to keep the cord secured. Now I only worry when I go out dancing.

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