A Smorgasbord of Living Love and the Thoughts of an Imigrant named Julespe VonHartegut in a Presentation Presented by the World of the Dead and the Sea of the King Where all Things Lost can be Found again like the Dime Bag you Lost about a Year Ago That's (577 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.5 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Poots (View user info) at 2008-03-08 12:49:45 EST
Some son of a bitch from Alamo Heights, Texas came to my city about a month ago. He went by the name of Randolph Jenkins but only the good lord in heaven, may he rest in peace, knows what that foul bucket of pussies real name is. Not important when it comes down to the whole ins and outs of things. Not important in the least bit. What is important is that dirty rattlesnakes' asshole stole my car http://www.moparaction.com/Article/Super_Stock/66.jpg, my woman http://2clicks.files.wordpress.com/2007/03/topanga-top.jpg, my boots http://www.straubs.net/images/beerboots/machine_boots.jpg and my favorite knife http://www.geekalerts.com/u/gig-swiss-knife.jpg. Of all the knives I got, 10,000 total, that one is my most sentimentalest and Randolph or whatever his lizard gizard suckin name is will pay dearly with testicles and assholes. I would like dearly to grab him by the anus and rip out whatever excuse he has for guts and roll a frame or two with 'em. STEEEEERIKE everytime baby.
Anyway, here's a tale of a mistakenly kind man with a devious heart. May you burn in hell you rotten son of a bitch...
It was a nice enough autumn day. The sun was a shinin' the birds they were doin some chirpin and the still in my basement was perculatin' up some good shine for me and my honey to sip on so's we could do the wild thing. She was one of those girls who you had to get drunk to have fun with if you know what I mean. Oh boy. She would dance like the sweet mother of life and get me in such a state that would blush me up in shame if my mother, who lived in the old den, knew what devilish debauchery we were up to.
I think I was whittlin a sub pump for my septic tank with my favorite knife when I heard a whisltin you aint never heard before. It was like a sireen from some sort of mystical whistlin' gang was a whistlin' the most lovely tune these ears have ever heard. My ears perked up my toes started thumpin the wooden porch floor and my face lit up with an ear to ear opossum esque smile. I felt like John Travolta in saturday night fever or which ever the one was where he takes the dance floor and starts whoopin ass! Danceatively speakin of course. Althouh he did get in a fight with a fella in one of those movies as I recall. Or was that face off? Shit it don't matter I'm gettin off subject...
So here I was thumpin my toes and smiling like a Ray Charles when out of nowhere a feller jumps out of the bushes, pirouttes on the very top of the bushes like Anna Pavlova, flips down to the porches floor and starts doin chinese kung fu moves in front of my face like hes Jackie flippin Chan. I shit my pants and I mean it was a whopper. I could see on his face that he smelt it for he did pause for just a second to appreciate the odor, wafing it in as if it where some sweet meat that had been barbequein for half a day. He nodded in approval and did a summersault backwards landing on one knee. Looking up at me with the prettiest eyes I have ever seen on a man he extended his hand and whispered one single word.
"Randolph," is what he murmured so low it was almost a unhearable. The man stared hypnotically like a spectre into my eyes. There was a sweet intimate moment between seconds that passed where he licked his lips and smooched a little kiss at me as if to say the thought of me in him did not scare him but it was fleeting and I snapped to my senses.
"JUST WHAT IN TAR NATION DO YOU THANK YOUR DOIN," I asked in my toughest of tones. I puffed my chest out and pounded it like a gorrilla in the mist. Shit slid down past my camouflaged cut off shorts into my hiking boots. I ignored this little threat to my dignity and held strong. Staring back with my brows narrowed and my back humped up. I could feel sweat break on my forehead and could smell a hint of brown sugar protruding from my arm pits. I use a brown sugar compound on my pits cause I got an allergy to most other forms of sweat retardant even bakin soda. This smell in conjuction with the fact that I shit my pants signed forboadingly for me.
well I got an old lady talking my neck off should be working anyway. I probably won't continue this much to most of your dismay...we will always have france....c'est la vie
User Reviews
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2008-03-10 02:13:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
SMORGASBORD.
Submitted by forensicgirl3 (user info) at 2008-03-09 21:32:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Something about this I really dug.
Maybe it was the Kerouacian title
Maybe it was the links that didn't work
Maybe it was just weird
Anyhow
I liked it
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2008-03-09 15:50:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
just kidding lungfish
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2008-03-09 15:49:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ummm...
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2008-03-09 15:29:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
The gymnast. Do I seem like a fag to you?
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2008-03-09 15:26:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Anna Pavlova the ballerina? Or Anna Pavlova the gymnast?
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2008-03-08 19:16:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This was like Canterbury tales, only with rednecks instead of British types. + fucking 2.
Submitted by HellRazer (user info) at 2008-03-08 15:38:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
IDKWTF this is, but I like it a lot.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-08 14:26:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
idk
Submitted by Poots (user info) at 2008-03-08 14:17:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
To be even more fair people who hide behind the baby jebus are usually wankers and lick balls for fun. HA! That means you lick balls and are a wanker. Have fun living life ball licker.
Submitted by Poots (user info) at 2008-03-08 14:13:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
To be fair it's not my fault that the title holder thingy is too much of a pussy to encapsulate my titles.
Submitted by SkullBiter (user info) at 2008-03-08 14:08:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I lost a dime bag a year ago. I moved out and my landlord found it.
Smoked it too.
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-03-08 14:06:09 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Long titles that get cut off make the baby jebus cry.
Submitted by Poots (user info) at 2008-03-08 13:33:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You know what else is awesome Ballare?
You are. I heart you!
Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2008-03-08 13:15:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
the accent I had going on in my head while I read this was awesome, so +2 for that
Submitted by Poots (user info) at 2008-03-08 12:51:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Good thing I added those links to confuse everyone. Now I am sure things will go just swell.