Please sir, I beg you! Ease back your attack so that I may compose myself to compass the admission of that stupendous head of your machine!
Man. I know I've expressed my views on the death of the love letter, and how the Victorians wrote gorgeous, passionate love letters while today we're lucky with a "u r gr8 sexx i cant wait til 2nite" text message, but they even screamed out eloquent moans, much more than the "oh yeah, that's it" that permeates Cinemax programming.
Oh my dearest, pull out your mighty stallion and let my thighs and linens receive your effusion!
(via the Victorian Sex Cry Generator, my favourite automated meme since the surrealist compliment generator)
