Hector and his 2.5 inch pop gun (their measurements, not mine) get an earful of criticism after disappointing a gang of size queens... and nailing himself in the forehead with his own payload. Sorry friend but I think it's best you take your cocktail sausage and head on back to that strawberry field you done crawled up out of.
Some "feels" I am glad I will never experience in life. Child birth, menstrual cramps, bamboo fingernail torture, or when a unlubed and unwelcome penis randomly kicks open the door to the house of pain.
