After months of hemming and hawing, polling my peers, weighing the pros and cons and endless hours of artful deliberation, I decided to throw caution to the wind and follow the dream; the dream of the cream, that is. I sucked a log of shit out of Andy Sixx’s ass. Now I know what you’re thinking – how was the steam? And I’ll be honest with you - there was none. It was lumpy and hard and not only was it not steamy, it was cold like the cement floor of an unfinished basement. There was also what seemed to be cat hair and pine needles in it. Motherfucker has pica or something. The dream is dead. There’s no dream, no cream, no steam. The end.