First off I would like to tell you just how badly you hurt me. I know you probably won't care because by now you're either balls deep in your new hoe (assuming you can get it up and keep it up) or you're playing one of your stupid mind numbing video games or you're cruising some social media site searching for your next victim or you're too busy trying to figure out how to wrap yourself even tighter around your mother's finger. Either way I'm still going to tell you because for once I don't give a fuck about your happiness, your comfort or your anything. Nope. From this day forward I'm living for ME.
So. Feet. You may love 'em, you may be indifferent to 'em, or you may be the kind of person who regards having to touch a foot as being akin to having to shake hands with someone who's obviously just emerged from the bathroom without washing ---- unclean, potentially gagworthy, excruciatingly awkward for everyone involved, and liable to make you sprint in the direction of the nearest Purell station.
Have you ever met a person, family member, co-worker, friend- that person we deem as very special indeed for the dilemma their actions place us in; making us constantly choose between our love and dislike of them—the things they say and do?