Turn the Oven On
When Fat Sister called earlier to say she was on her way round for dinner, she asked me to turn the oven on. My tics had three questions for her:
“Shall I rub my clitoris on it?”
“Shall I give it a lap dance?”
“Shall I turn the oven on with KY jelly or with oven gloves?”
She laughed, told me what temperature to set it at, and hung up.