The wonderfully heady "I think I'm in love" feeling experienced by the male when being seduced by a new female partner during which time the female cooks for him, does his laundry, and provides fellatio during sex, usually culminating in marriage and/or fatherhood, whereupon the true female erupts and the male finds he has been saddled with fatherhood and associated financial responsibility, longdry spells of no sex, and the rapid accumulation of enormous debt for which the female takes no responsibility (often resulting in, or generated by, separation or especially divorce).
As in: "Dude, look out! You're being sucked into the precuntal vortex!"
An answer to the argument in favour of belief in God formulated in Pascal's Wager, formulated in turn by that great philosopher, Homer J. Simpson. Essentially, the God we are asked to believe in on the strength of Pascal's Wager, presumably the Judeo-Christian Jahweh, is merely one of thousands if not millions to have been worshipped throughout human history. Assuming the mere numbers of the faithful are an unreliable guide to the veracity of this god's existence (and no serious scholar of human beliefs would argue otherwise), then how do we know we've got the right god?
when one shits in the shower then lays down on their stomach and proceeds to obliterate the shit down the drain with ones face , until it has all washed down and away
yo i really gotta shit but i’m in the shower , i might just almighty rebuttal
my toilet was clogged so i used the shower and did the almighty rebuttal