Friday, January 21, 2005
Please Explain This Spectacle…
Ladies, Gentlement and Canadian: Boss had emerged drunkenly from the Llama Pen to show me how to fix das bugs.
So…we have this photo.
Words – I have none.
Please explain. As ever, in the “comments” link.
Seriously, WTF is ongoing here…?
Like the alligator snapper turtle that uses it’s worm-like tongue to lure fish, Mary uses the one part of her body devoid of track marks to lure in minimum-wage-Dan. He will gladly lay down a couple fives for “a new sexy dress” with the promise of getting to touch some cooch. But alas, it will never happen. Instead of a tight little outfit for Dan to oogle her in, his two fives and a shaky blow job will go to Mary’s dealer to cover her next fix including the last one she only paid half of.
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She would never put out for Dan, having one too many times before made the mistake of letting some greasy, sweaty uber nerd with no chin pump away on top of her and have to waste a day better spent turning half-and-halfs for a bindle on another abortion. Yeah, a back to back with some magic rock will help dull the pain and despair, but its still a waste of a day.
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Dan is ecstatic at the thought of finally getting the first good tail in 10 years since getting to nail his step-Dad’s 400 lb ex-girlfriend after a Forth of July party. At least he thinks he got laid. It was hard to tell with all the folds of skin. He just went for the wettest one and blew his meager load in there. Ecstatic enough to ignore the fact that Mary’s tongue tastes like a black man’s scrotum.
Nice Jacques, but where’s the dodgy Jesus-I-shouldn’t-have-clicked-that link?
What on earth are you talking about?
Jesus-I-shouldn’t-have-clicked-that link!
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27 Are I Human, or are I dancer?
Once again……. I’m not clicking that link
Mary grew up in the affluent Grosse Pointe area during the Clinton years. Detroit. What an awesome place to live when your immigrant father Nino came here with $10 and built a relative empire in the sunroom and solarium business by the time you were a preteen jonesing for some Timberlake with all your rich bitchy Italian friends.
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Summer job? Pfah! Nino’s not gonna let his princess work when she can spend the summer tanning and hanging around the Michigan guidos and their slick boats and shit.
She had the easy life. Nino always said, “My Mary is never gonna work a day in her life. I got a lots of money now.”
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Thing is Nino didn’t want his kids around cause he’s banging his cost accountant and the whore up at the Convention Center in Clinton Township that ran the Confirmation party.
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By 2004 she was a knockout and quite the financial wiz at high school. “Papa, you know how you say you need to invest your profits so the IRS doesn’t get you? Why don’t we start giving second mortgages instead of just getting a referral fee. You can lock it all up in another holding company and keep reinvesting to finance your own sales. Even the franchise guys too. How could we ever lose with the prices of housing going up forever.”
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Tears came to Nino’s eyes. His oldest daughter was too smart not to get involved. What a fucking genius Mary is! And he thanked G-d and prayed to Our Lady of Fatima for his wonderful life.
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Nino killed himself in mid 2008. Mary’s mom had to sell the waterfront home she had grown up in. Tarnished by her fateful investment advice, Mary couldn’t get a job in the new economy. Dreams gone. Reality hitting home.
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Mary’s best friend Gina had enjoyed the charmed life Mary led vicariously and actively enjoying the fruits of Nino’s labours. “Mary, Fuck these guys around here. nobody has jobs and all the bars are closed. Let’s go somewhere where nobody will know us.”
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“Sarnia! I’ve never been to Canada before! Let’s go tomorrow.”
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“You ever try meth Mary.” Gina asked knowingly. “EWWWW” said Mary. “Isn’t that for losers?”
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“Look at the Sunfire you drive Mary. We are the losers now.”
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“But my Papa said to never do drugs.”
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“Mary. Your Dad was a great guy but he left you in debt and had those skanks set up for life. Let’s have some fun.”
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So Mary takes a few puffs of some rancid concoction that Gina’s ex-boyfriend Tony sold her. Mary was never so energized and horny.
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A few months later, Gina introduced Mary to Jim Bob. They married, stayed stoned, and had two kids before the Mexican Mennonites burned their trailer somewhere around Delhi where they had been picking tobacco and shit.
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17
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The link aint that bad. Kinda cool if you think about it.
Slavin wasn’t a bad guy. Sure he had that Hyperhidrosis thing. With his curly locks thinning, moistened by incessant flop sweat, his friends had started calling him “Squidvin” but that was okay because he never had a nickname before.
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Unless you include when the neighborhood Mexican kids called him “Mosca” but he didn’t know what that meant so he sluffed it off
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Slavin never had much of a love life. Greasy lovin’ with a couple chubby chicks at college, a hand job while chaperoning a church dance and a steady virgin girlfriend in his late 20’s that would let him grind his crotch against her while they hugged until he loaded his underbritches with his gooey Velveeta and changed into another pair of pants he always kept in his trunk , you know, in case today was a DAY.
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One morning, Slavin’s mom called him into the kitchen from his room above the detached garage. There was a nice lady at church that was discussing her daughter. Seems the daughter had “a condition”, but Mrs’ Slavin left this part out. She too, was a little too old to “not be hitched”.
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“I’d like you to take a girl out to dinner. I’ll pay. Just see if there’s a spark.
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” You had me at ‘I’ll pay’.”
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Slavin meets Edwina at Chipotle, well out of his price range but mom’s paying. They order , they introduce, they chit chat.
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He can’t help but notice how often she rubs her hands quickly on the top of her thighs. He also can’t help but notice every once in a while she turns her head to the side and yells, “FUCK-SHIT-!!!!!” or “MOTHER CUNT!!!” and “PISS-CUM!!” .
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Slavin feels opportunistic, this may be easy. He knows of a club that he and his friends stopped going to a LOOONG time ago. He used to watch the alpha males of his group score drunk babes there all the time. And by babes he means, anything with female sexy bits.
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Edwina excuses herself then emerges with a group of Woo Girls from the bathroom. They love her style and are entranced by her exacerbations. “ASS FUCK!!”, she had said, followed by ,”CUNT MY SHIT!!” They give her a rail of cheap cocaine and buy her some cocktails. Edwina enters a “zone”
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She grabs Slavin and starts grinding her mons against his now growing schlong as they groove on the dance floor in front of her new friends. She is a pants cummer, also, they discover. The two of them grind and simultaneously orgasm in spasms that make the Woo Girls pussy-lick between their fingers
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She sticks her tongue out to say “FUCK-LUNCH—” but Slavin grabs it with his eager lips , sucking the taste buds like a hyena cleaning the bones of a caribou. Stuck in this embrace they both glance away but continue for a few moments more.
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“Let’s get out of, “SHIT-SHIT-SHIT!!”, here”, she says. The Woo Girls high five her as they leave….
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Later that evening they drive to Las Vegas and elope, married by a Philipino Elvis, “Elpis Hazzleffdabilding” at the Tangiers
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The horrified mothers are , um, horrified. They don’t want to break the union so Edwina’s tubes are tied. Which is the only good news in this tale
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A tale I call “17”
I like going last^
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22
^That’s fucking funny Vin.
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10
IT MUST EAT GRAIN
CUNT MY SHIT.
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CUNT MY SHIT, indeed.
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17. Human.
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