Her Fucking Martian

Her Fucking Martian desperately needed a rubber chicken that they would occasionally share. This seems a fairly funny proposal, to some, but not to the Martian, who had come to the conclusion it would be fun. You wouldnt have thought, a rubber chicken was the item that was opted for.

Her Fucking Martian needed a piece of paper that they would occasionally put on his head. It was an unusual action, to me and my parents, but not to the Martian, who had come to the conclusion it would be epic. Remarkably, a piece of paper is the item to choose.

Her Fucking Martian needed a bag of flour that they would occasionally throw. One might say this is an odd suggestion, to you, but not to the Martian, who had decided that the idea was the most awesome idea. Who would have imagined, a bag of flour is the thing that was chosen.

Her Fucking Martian desperately craved for a bag of flour that they sometimes play with. It should have been a fairly different activity, to my grandpa, but not to the Martian, who assumed that the idea was breathtaking. Who would have imagined, a bag of flour would be the chosen thing.

Her Fucking Martian had a sword that they sometimes eat. It was considered to be an astonishing operation, to some, but not to the Martian, who expected it was miraculous. Who would have imagined, a sword of all things.

Her Fucking Martian desired a bottle of beer that they would occasionally worship. It would be a fairly bizarre thing to do, to me and my children, but not to the Martian, who felt it was exciting. Honestly, a bottle of beer being the item opted for.