It's not that I don't care. Well, actually... never mind. If this were a perfect world, I'd have the self-control to pull out. Then again, if this were a perfect world, your entire village wouldn't live on $12 a year. Sure, you can play with my cell phone. Just do me a favor and bend over a little more"¦ a little more"¦ that's the spot. Hold the red button to turn it on. Red. Rojo.
By the way, how' your sister doing? Last month I taught her some English phrases useful in the marketplace. I don't think I pulled out of her either, and she's fine. Really? Well is she going to terminate the-right, right. Of course not. Well it's not all bad, I mean, the infant mortality rate around here has to be like 70 percent. And if it survives, it'll be helpful in building mud houses and sewing dresses.
Yes, I suppose you can sleep over. I'm sure that over the course of the night I'll pull out at least once. Probably by accident, but it still counts. And if you do get pregnant, you'll know that it wasn't from the time we did it upside down on the table and the anti-malaria bed nets got in the way.
So what are you doing tomorrow night? I'd love to spend it with you and/or some of your peasant friends. Oh, that's right. Tomorrow, the Jesus Guy gives everyone who listens to him preach a bowl of rice and a chicken bone. Big night. I guess I'll have to find one of the wealthier villagers who can afford to tell that stuck up anti-Christ to go fuck himself. The ones with running water are a bit more difficult. They don't usually fall for the ole, "I promise I'll consider maybe pulling out" routine.