A Unicorn Boner Dilettante

Looks like there is some competition out there for Unicorn Boner supremacy.


Well, Sharon Mesmer, until you've flung yourself down the glorious shaft of the magical-type beast that defies description like the pole of your local volunteer Fire Dept., as if the abandoned mill down by the river (the one where the lovable, ragamuffin runaways from troubled, yet ultimately ennobling circumstances sleep--along side a box full of mewing kittens) is burning, you should perhaps not speak of such things.

We are professionals here. We'll leave erotic poetry to people who don't require "companionship," who enjoy curling up with a good book, and who aren't afraid of paper cuts in private places.

Leave the Unicorn Boners to us.