My Valentine's Day Gift to SG.

An Offer For All You Loveless Ladies and Laddies Out There. A One Time Deal. A Triple-Tag-Team That'll Knock Your Socks Off and Get Your Rocks Off.

First, I'll pick you up in the SeX-Wing Taurus....


The temperature will be set to a comfortable 69 degrees, the sexiest of temperatures. The faux leather seats will feel soft and smoooove against your bare legs. No pants allowed in the SeX-Wing Taurus.

Upwards we'll travel, denying gravity and Biblical Law. Each thrust into the sky will be another slap in the face of convention and logic. As we leave Earth's orbit you will see something appear in the abyss of space. Worry not, for it is our destination....



OMEGACRON 9 FROM OUTTER SPASSE!!!1

The sexual nature of our docking cannot be conveyed here, but know you will expell over fourteen seperate orgasms during that time. Don't worry, I will windex the faux leather seats and the dash, enjoy yourself.

Don't be alarmed by the sudden appearance of the Mad Arab Robot Azule, he is harmless. He functions purely to lace you with rose petals and rub your aching feet.



Because of the harshness of space, you will not recieve fresh flowers as you descend into the lower levels of my Love Ship. Instead, Ahmet Zappa will present you with a charming passle of balloon flowers which will forever remind you of your time spent in space/love with me.



"Wow!" You'll say. "What could possibly top balloon flowers and a crazy Arab Robot?


Well, I'll be glad you asked because it's time for the patented Deep Space Triple-Tag-Team That'll Knock Your Socks Off and Get Your Rocks Off.

What's that? A door opening in the bedroom? OH MY GOD! It's Burt Fucking Reynolds!!



Heart pounding. Knees turning to jell-o. Pants exploding. Fainting is acceptable in this situation, but you'll want to regain consciousness quickly as the second piece in the Sexplosion Trinity is about to be made known.

KABOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The deafening sound of Tom Fucking Selleck exploding into the room riding a unicorn, his chest hair brilliant in the light from the lava lamps positioned about the room.



Moustaches will descend upon you like vultures, covering every quaking inch of you with a warmth you haven't known since the womb.

You ask: But Smelly, you don't have a moustahce! How can you be my Earl of Ecstasy? My Duke of Drillin'?

No moustache you say? THE HELL YOU SAY!!!!



Even paper-cuts hurt, you know. And it will be the last thing you will see before you ascend into the purest levels of passion and pleasure. The universe wil open up to you and God himself will smile upon you and say, yes, you are his favorite creation.


...and you'll awaken in your bed, the same as you left. Was it a dream? Was it all a beautiful dream?! I cannot answer these questions for you, as I have to clean up after Burt (or as he likes to be called, Turd Ferguson.) But in 2 to 3 weeks you'll receive a card in the mail. It will be addressed to you, SG, confirmation of our rendezvous in the depths of space.

I'd hate to spoil it for you, but for the sake of closure, here it is.

SPOILERS! (Click to view)

Stay beautiful SG, and have a Happy Valentine's Day.

That was the best!!!!!

Happy VD back atcha smellin!

Hahahaha - the inclusion of Turd Ferguson reference just...made it all.

Can I come?

I really just want to ride in the SeX-Wing Taurus...and balloons from Ahmet would be cool, too.

Reynolds? Selleck? Argh!!!!

Cool post

Dear Smelly,

I don't understand why you don't pull chicks. You are officially the smoothest motherfucker I know.

Let's make out,

Julie

Quit trying to find excuses to post that stupid Taurus.

OK, dude, I'm in. But if I'm to come to your Sexy Cyberswinging Interdimensional Dork Fortress Beyond the Stars, I'm going to have to bring my homeboys.



And, of course, I'll want to bring all three of my girlfriends. Is that ok? They get all hella cranky if I go to outer space without them. (And/or if they miss their nap.)



But not to worry, because my girlfriends can cook, and we will bring enough quiche, turkey and sweet-rolls for everyone.






[Edited on Feb 14, 2005 by cklarock]

cklarock said: I'm going to have to bring my homeboys.


oh my God.
no one expects teh icy hot stuntaz!
co' countin thier millions, playa.

Old Skoolers get 7 Minutes In Heaven with their choice of Reynolds, Selleck or the Robot.

Dunno Smellin. I liked the sentiment, wasn't quite feeling it though.

How about 4 minutes with the robot, and Burt gets to watch?

BAAAAAAAAAM!

Dear, mr of troy

Marry me

Love

The queen of all media

Oh, oh! I want to ride in the SeX-Wing!

I'd have to cut out early before Burt Reynolds got there, though. He looks like my grandpa, and I will not have grandpa lovin' anywhere near my oven.



**Edited for extra sauce.**

[Edited on Feb 14, 2005 by dictionary_girl]

You gots some competition!!

http://www.roadsquadron.com/Cars/Hwing/

[Edited on Feb 14, 2005 by smitty4hire]

I love you, but I've chosen darkness.

Dude! they rock!

I...am...without adequite....words....

im down with smellin of troy lol he is by far the most desirable yup im mad about ya deary

you know... i think the best part of that post was the fact that the taurus hubs caps don't match...

They got blown off in the Battle of 28th street.

i heard that was a rough one... only bad flashbacks can stop her now!!