Monday, September 27, 2021

DONKEY PUNCH

picture it kittens...it was 2015 the year of the goat if you follow that voodoo
Rey and Ren were slice'n up the theaters with the latest in Lucas's sci-fi soap opera...
homo's and hetero's shared in the misery of matrimony together fer the 1st time in history in all 50 states...
and we said good bye to everyone's fav-o-rit Klingon
BUTT that ain't all...

so there i was one hot lazy summer afternoon after come'n home from a 
difficult day at the park try'na sell pencils to a class of blind kids and suddenly i received a "viewer discretion advised" phone call outta the blue from someone i had chatted to on the phone lines earlier in the week (this was a year before my smartphone purchase when i still relied on my imagination) who was want'n to do some sorta Jane Fonda work-out with me so i thought to myself hey...i hadn't met my charitable quota this particular year at that point yet so WHY NOT!

trust me...you'da said the same thing if you were me and thank CHER ya
ain't...anywho'zll'ding ding...my mysterious caller hadda remind me who he was since this was pre-smart phone days fer me so i opened up my roloxdicks of imagination when he described himself

once he had arrived to my shitbox (and ps...that is a pretext just FYI)
there was no time fer small talk...my biological clock was tick'n while he was lick'n his chops this particular afternoon and cuz...well...there was nothin' small about him

built like a shit brick house we started  huff'n and a puff'n like 2 pigs at a
pie bake-off at the county fair...not a care in the world and trust me...he was more than ready to blow my house down as was i (insert evil wink here)

as he assumed his fav-o-rit position...i put on my fav Burt Bacharach record
that had been collect'n dust since the last dance to get me in the mood then the sweat started pour'n like a monsoon in may in minutes

seriously kittens...you'da swore it was a full moon...
cuz i could not shut this howl'n prowler up!

everything was goin exhaustingly well...that is...until...
a small but definitely distinct draft came outta the south at 2 miles per hour...i had just punched into Charlie’s Chocolate factory and believe when i say…i wasn’t too damn happy to get this weather report…it was my damn day off!

hey accidents happen...so instead of make'n him feel like crap 
since i was now marinate'n in it...i sent him off to soak in some calgon's cool bouquet fer a minute or so while i took a mini birdy bath in the kitchen sink and then it was back to Maxine Nightingale'n it once again

round 2 was goin perfect...UNTIL...that is...i was back at Charlie's
WTF? i mean as hot as this guy was...i shouldn't have to be punch'n into this kinda work on my days off...just 4 and 1/2 minutes later (hey i was watch'n the clock since my egg timer was broken)
cue another much need birdy bath

i was all set to pay my tab and get goin...but he begged and i figered
fine...yer my charitable act fer the decade and 3rd times is usually a charm right? HA! does NO go with WAY?

he had finally got his sky rockets in flight...however there would be no 
afternoon delight fer me this particular afternoon and fer once in my life i didn't give 2 shits since he had bequeathed me 3!

HEY...i'm a damn unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n
illusionist of my own universe...i shouldn't have to put up with any of this shit...L-I-T-T-E-R-A-L-L-Y…so i hope this finally clears up any questions about my fornicational position fer all you Gladys Kravitz's of the planet since yer always ask'n me fer some ungodly reason cuz i ain't save'n myself fer no damn aisle either...however that's a whole other episode 
now GET OFF MY DRESS!

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