My feelings about the pornographic PowerPoint presentation were twofold.
The first fold was in my dungarees, where my boner lay. The second’s not important right now. The Israeli degenerate facilitating the presentation had my number: he kept tracing a torah-shaped outline in my lap with his laser pointer. I pretended not to notice – I was sick of homoerotic workplace encounters, and I wasn’t going to let this one mar the clean, crisp sensation of professionalism I had felt that morning when I poured myself into the tightest pair of business cas. dungarees I could find.
"Tell me a little bit more about your xxxclusive cuntent,” I said, deflating any hopes this West Bank wanker had for settling in my occupied territories.