Another em-bare-Assing story
So many to choose from... but today I've decided to tell you one of the many stories of my intimate tawdry winsomeness.
Wince upon a time when I was just a silly little lilly-livered young fresh thing, I was engaged to a hermaphrodite named Sally-Bob who didn't appreciate the full roundness of my most excellent wonderfull-ness. Maybe that's why we were engaged, I'm still not very clear on that point. So, we broke up, kind of like an amoeba that divides through reverse osmosis or is it photosynthesis.
It absolutely fucked me up. But one day I decided to show him/her what he/she was missing out on. I went to a hot and raunchy boutique here in town called Vulva Americana. I think it was owned by the same people that ran Moda Americana, but I have never been quite sure on that. It was right next to the Travel Agent that always had signs for sex tours of Cuba but like that rancid bitch Mookah says the cigar doesn't have to be Cuban to be enjoyed if you know what I mean.
So I bought myself one of the most flattering outfits I could find (I am still paying this thing off and I haven't fit into it for YEARS), and went home to doll up and hose myself down, not necessarily in that order. Damn, I looked hot! Roger says so too, in case you're thinking I'm getting a little full of myself, cause I showed him some of the polaroids.
So, this hermaphrodite worked downtown at an adult emporium on the ped mall that had huge boarded up-windows that would have overlooked the whole area. I think it was so people couldn't see in as opposed to not letting Sally-Bob see out. There I was, strolling leisurely by his/her place of business in my hot saucy bitch outfit, and decide to bound gracefully (like a nutria, no less) down the very shallow steps of said ped mall directly in front of his/her place of business. Well, it was a windy day. And did I mention that my hot bitch outfit was comprised of crotchless Lederhosen and a chainmail bra? Once again, did I mention that it was windy?
As I was 'bounding', my left foot got caught up in my right Lederhosen leg, and I went full Ostrich bonzo sprawling toward a bed of daffodils. You know how when you trip and you're just propelled forward by the sheer force of your clutziness? Well, my push-up chainmail bra sheared off about an acre of flowers. I couldn't do anything for a full two minutes other than just lie face down in this flower bed and pretend to myself that I was having a bad dream, while trying to stealthily masturbate. Unfortunately, a really good lookin' guy gave me a very real hand up (up my bungaranamus, that is), all the while laughing his ass off as I picked earth out of my nose, my bra, my hair, my cha-cha - maybe going crotchless with no undies on the ped mall wasn't such a good idea.. and then I looked over to the door where my ex-fiance was standing, also laughing. Moral of the story? NEVER try to be something you're not. I will never in my life try to be graceful again; it just doesn't wear well on me. But crotchless Lederhosen do...
Jeff just lies there like a puddle of sick diarreah because he is a puddle of diarreah and it smells bad.
Wince upon a time when I was just a silly little lilly-livered young fresh thing, I was engaged to a hermaphrodite named Sally-Bob who didn't appreciate the full roundness of my most excellent wonderfull-ness. Maybe that's why we were engaged, I'm still not very clear on that point. So, we broke up, kind of like an amoeba that divides through reverse osmosis or is it photosynthesis.
It absolutely fucked me up. But one day I decided to show him/her what he/she was missing out on. I went to a hot and raunchy boutique here in town called Vulva Americana. I think it was owned by the same people that ran Moda Americana, but I have never been quite sure on that. It was right next to the Travel Agent that always had signs for sex tours of Cuba but like that rancid bitch Mookah says the cigar doesn't have to be Cuban to be enjoyed if you know what I mean.
So I bought myself one of the most flattering outfits I could find (I am still paying this thing off and I haven't fit into it for YEARS), and went home to doll up and hose myself down, not necessarily in that order. Damn, I looked hot! Roger says so too, in case you're thinking I'm getting a little full of myself, cause I showed him some of the polaroids.
So, this hermaphrodite worked downtown at an adult emporium on the ped mall that had huge boarded up-windows that would have overlooked the whole area. I think it was so people couldn't see in as opposed to not letting Sally-Bob see out. There I was, strolling leisurely by his/her place of business in my hot saucy bitch outfit, and decide to bound gracefully (like a nutria, no less) down the very shallow steps of said ped mall directly in front of his/her place of business. Well, it was a windy day. And did I mention that my hot bitch outfit was comprised of crotchless Lederhosen and a chainmail bra? Once again, did I mention that it was windy?
As I was 'bounding', my left foot got caught up in my right Lederhosen leg, and I went full Ostrich bonzo sprawling toward a bed of daffodils. You know how when you trip and you're just propelled forward by the sheer force of your clutziness? Well, my push-up chainmail bra sheared off about an acre of flowers. I couldn't do anything for a full two minutes other than just lie face down in this flower bed and pretend to myself that I was having a bad dream, while trying to stealthily masturbate. Unfortunately, a really good lookin' guy gave me a very real hand up (up my bungaranamus, that is), all the while laughing his ass off as I picked earth out of my nose, my bra, my hair, my cha-cha - maybe going crotchless with no undies on the ped mall wasn't such a good idea.. and then I looked over to the door where my ex-fiance was standing, also laughing. Moral of the story? NEVER try to be something you're not. I will never in my life try to be graceful again; it just doesn't wear well on me. But crotchless Lederhosen do...
Jeff just lies there like a puddle of sick diarreah because he is a puddle of diarreah and it smells bad.
posted by Cootersnack at 11:53 AM
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