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The viscous ring of lube that accumulates around the bellend when wanking with excessive amounts of lubricant.
Post nut, the tug ring may also be comprised of an amalgam of lube, cum and even smegma depending upon male cleanliness.
My mom walked in while I was enjoying some post nut clarity but she should smell the aromas of tug cheese and asked me if I was working on a new crust sock.
Brewing up a massive turd/shit proceeded by multiple rounds of repugnant, room clearing flatulence.
I was heatinâ beef bad this morning. I cleared the break room out twice before starting to crown and having to run to the shitter.
Flatulence released under the covers with the sheets and duvet pulled tight to avoid the release of the stench.
I decided to cook the duvet before Rachel came to bed. When she pulled the sheets back to crawl in a massive waft of ass stench greeted her nostrils.
An ice cube, popsicle or other frozen delight shoved up a personâs rectum.
I took a Himalayan cork last night.
Iâm shitting Cherry red today after that Himalayan cork from my uncle.
The range of varying times, circumstances, events or actions that elevate oneself to reaching the point where one just says Fuck It.
Generally, the Fuck It range starts at the low end of the trend line and progresses to the pinnacle where one rattles off a resounding âFuck Itâ verbal tirade of varying degree.
Once the top end of the Fuck It Range is reached, and the âFuck Itâ has been proclaimed, the outcomes will vary and are completely situational.
My boss continues to take all the credit for my work and gets a big bonus and I keep getting crumbs. Iâm in the Fuck It Range and one more time Iâm done and itâs over.
I spent 45 minutes trying to fix that leaking faucet. I hit the fuck it range after I busted my knuckle twice. But I got it fixed.
Every day my wife puts me in the fuck it range with her incessant nagging about the skid marks in my underwear when she does laundry. Next time I just wonât wipe at all.
My fuck it range is short today. Try me. Seriously. Try me.
Bitch Iâve reached the fuck it range. I donât care if you are his momma Imma knock your ass out.
An extremely puckered, tight asshole. Results in an inability to penetrate.
Despite an entire tube of lube, I couldnât slip the salty starfish.
Despite the poppers, my Grindr hookup still had a salty starfish.
A cleanly pinched turd. Pinched at the peak of ripeness flowing like a breeze out the bunghole leaving no fecal remnants. Hallmarked by the one swipe wipe.
I was running late this morning so I made up a little time when I had a perfect squat.
Man the dude in the stall next to me clearly has a perfect squat. I heard the splash and one wipe. I spent over 20 minutes trying clean my mud butt from that toothpaste turd I squirted out.