Boris and Fox Hooked on Viagra

It’s really got absolutely nothing to do with sex. Even if it did, mind, it absolutely definitely would have precisely no relation to carnal or intimate interactions with one another. No matter what anyone might have seen in a cheap hotel room last week. Or in those bushes down the park the other night. In fact, a range of nosy witnesses in a variety of scandalous locations who definitely haven’t been paid off or had their eyes gouged out might or mightn’t have something to say on the subject.

But, fellas, just imagine the sheer sense of powerful confidence you feel when you’ve got a stiffy. It’s hardly as if I know from experience or anything but let me set the scene from you. It’s a magnificent example of your own virility and natural place in life as a chap. You can do absolutely anything and everything especially if you’ve got a willing partner in crime. Or, you know, a convenient crevice or your own hand.

After various crises in confidence triggered by recent political events no one feels like going into right now, certain figures needed to find a way to rebuild their own sense of self esteem. Because we all know how badly Boris needs pumping up. Bad choice of words. He’d previously tried therapy, positively affirming statements and attempting to get the people in his life to let him know precisely what they adore about the very privilege of knowing him.

But, and just can’t go into the finer details of this story because it’s all too much, he discovered that wandering round with a hard on did wonders for his own sense of self. Obviously he’s also stuffed a cup down there so that the yoghurt spitting sausage standing to attention can go undetected. Unless he decides that you’re a very special friend indeed.

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