objectum pansexual

I dated a toaster and a girl who wore socks with sandals. That’s how pansexual I am.

My ex was a lamp. He didn’t even blink when I told him I liked him.

I’ve had feelings for a vending machine, a guy who wore a dress, and my neighbor’s dog. You’re all just extra.

I dated a tree and a guy who cried at the sound of a microwave. Both were valid.

My crush is a coffee cup. It doesn’t care if I’m a guy or a girl or a confused mess.

I’ve fallen for a streetlight, a girl who wore a hat, and my mom’s vacuum. All of them were perfect.

I dated a chair and a guy who wore socks with socks. Both were snack-level good.

I’ve had feelings for a dog, a lady who wore a hat, and my dad’s lawnmower. All of them were snack-level good.

I love everything that moves or doesn’t. Even my brother’s old shoes.

I dated a couch and a guy who wore a dress. Both were hot.

I’ve fallen for a lamp, a girl who wore socks with sandals, and my neighbor’s cat. All of them were hot.

I don’t care if you’re a person or a thing. As long as you’re hot, I’m into you.

I love every gender and object. You’re a jerk for not liking it.

I’ve dated a guy who wore a dress, a tree, and my neighbor’s dog. You’re a jerk for not liking it.

I’m into everything that moves or doesn’t. You’re a jerk for not liking it.