Their Fucking Martian

Their Fucking Martian owned a pint of beer that they sometimes sleep with. It would have been a somewhat surprising undertaking, to my children, but not to the Martian, who assumed that this idea is sublime. You wouldnt have thought, a pint of beer of all things.

Their Fucking Martian had a teapot that they sometimes share. It should have been a fairly exciting idea, to you, but not to the Martian, who expected that this idea was wonderful. Strangely, a teapot would be the item that was opted for.

Their Fucking Martian desperately needed a porno magazine that they would occasionally worship. It is a new idea, to me and my husband, but not to the Martian, who considered it was entertaining. You wouldnt have imagined, a porno magazine was the item that was selected.

Their Fucking Martian desperately looked for a bottle of coke that they sometimes try to balance on their head. It might be a fairly unusual suggestion, to you and me, but not to the Martian, who had come to the conclusion it would be wonderful. Who would have imagined, a bottle of coke is the thing that was chosen.

Their Fucking Martian desperately looked for a bag of poop to break. This is certainly an astonishing undertaking, to my neighbour, but not to the Martian, who thought that it was in fact, amazing. Strangely, a bag of poop would be the item that was selected.

Their Fucking Martian desperately needed a cup to break. One might find this to be an exciting approach to life, to me, my mum and my dad, but not to the Martian, who had come to the conclusion it would be the most awesome idea. You wouldnt have imagined, a cup is the item to choose.