As a woman, I find the pursuit of filth on the internet both disgusting and irrelevant. I do, however, own an Amazon branded electronic reader so I thought to myself, instead of getting good quality filth for free, I should pay for some medioccre filth of the textual variety.
B P Perry's electronic novella sent me spinning though an oddesey of filth the like of which I have never encountered in my sad life as a spinster who due to animal allergies can't even have a cat to keep me company as I sit at home not going to parties and listening to the sound of my ovaries shrivelling and dying.
Angus Potato is truly an erotic hero of the ages and exactly the type of man who's gigantic pants I would like to get into and perhaps one day make a sandwich for.
If I was allowed to wear hats as a lady, I would tip mine toward Mr Perry, for showing me that there literaly are no depths to human depravity.