Gabby Windey

Again, this is my experience.

It's a little punched up because it's a comedy podcast, so take it or leave it.

I picked up my nightie that morning to show my planetary Uranus, more like Jupiter with the largest planet of rings of the solar system everywhere to my beloved.

Do you see the size of my ass?

I inquire to my wife, Robbie, what is going on here?

She doesn't say anything at that moment.

You know why?

Because later I found out my wife's deep concern was in that moment, which she hid in by silence.

And if you know anything about Robbie Hoffman, it's silence doesn't know her and she doesn't know it, a prematory sign.

Things aren't looking good for either of us.

She's nervous and she loves my body.

We have nightly butt squeezes, which put me right to bed.

But I say, don't split my ass.

Sometimes she likes to pull, don't split my ass.

What did you do to it, she says.

Did you get those blood butt injections, huh?

What?

We spend every day together and I'm not sure what you're referencing at all.

So the next day, my two limbs that used to extend from my torso extend incredibly long like two syringes full of that ultra-juvederm you got in that gas station esthetician office for a Russian lip lift.

You wanted to try it again and you like it too much, but your lips are falling off of your face.