I love my toothbrush. I wake up with him, and go to bed with him. He's tall, slender and soft to touch. He attacks and protects me from the bad guys. With his gripped body, I could never let go of him.
When his hair changes color and turns from bright blue to white I know it is time to look for a new toothbrush; feedback.
With his gripped body clearly laid out on his tall body my hands know exactly where to go; mapping.
It has gotten to the point in our lustful relationship that he just knows when I want him; habituation.
F***IN HATE YOU.
I hate batteries. He sits in his ass grooved chair all day doing nothing. Sometimes he gets a sudden urge to play with me but otherwise he goes hours upon hours doing nothing.
His cylindrical form not only makes him physically unattractive, but it's nearly impossible to keep him organized he will just roll away!
Also, half of the time I don't even know if hes a live or nearly going to die because he refuses to wear any sort of colour to reflect his lively hood.
Honestly, half the time I can't even get him out of his chair because he has nothing to grip onto.
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