unfurl part two
I vomited in my mouth, but only a tiny tiny bit. Decades of cigerettes and cocaine abuse had surely rendered this old woman's sense of smell obsolete, I was in the clear. Meanwhile Eron had set position between the two hags and was operating at full Eye Candy Mode. I took my leave and escaped into the pool room.
"Only Breakfast...Only Breakfast!" One of them cackled. Ahmad is in the kitchen making a crude, frat boy version of an Egg McMuffin. Judging from the crooked look on his face, cooking when all he wanted to do wass bag an old lady was taking a hell of a toll on poor Ahmad. He threw the dish in Old Mummy's hands and she squeeled.
"I have sons your ages." Eggs fell out of her mouth. Would dentures follow?
"Do you have any daughers my age?"
Into The Jaws of Hell
"We've had our fun, I think we should leave." I said to Eron when we had a moment of privacy. I continued, "These aren't our women and Ahmad doesn't look too happy..." I started putting on my coat and headed towards the door.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm gonna leave..." Eron said. He then turned back to the living room and the look in his eyes betrayed him. He was going to stay and he was going to Go For It. I said a silent prayer and left that godforsaken house.
That night Eron accompanied the 50 year old down into The Dungeon, the bass-filled basement/bedroom/lair of Ahmad. The air itself is considered a sexually transmitted disease, the carpet a living thing not unlike our outter layer of skin. I haven't seen or heard from Eron since. We might send a rescue team down there if we can arrange the funds and find enough willing orphans.
And so it ended, like every night for the past year, with me going sexless. But I learned a very important lesson: Christmas is for giving, not receiving, and that San Dimas High School Football? It rules.
Update From The Gay Bar Dancefloor
The new Madonna album is awesome. She's all like, relevance here I come. And I'm all like, I love Madge.
I vomited in my mouth, but only a tiny tiny bit. Decades of cigerettes and cocaine abuse had surely rendered this old woman's sense of smell obsolete, I was in the clear. Meanwhile Eron had set position between the two hags and was operating at full Eye Candy Mode. I took my leave and escaped into the pool room.
"Only Breakfast...Only Breakfast!" One of them cackled. Ahmad is in the kitchen making a crude, frat boy version of an Egg McMuffin. Judging from the crooked look on his face, cooking when all he wanted to do wass bag an old lady was taking a hell of a toll on poor Ahmad. He threw the dish in Old Mummy's hands and she squeeled.
"I have sons your ages." Eggs fell out of her mouth. Would dentures follow?
"Do you have any daughers my age?"
Into The Jaws of Hell
"We've had our fun, I think we should leave." I said to Eron when we had a moment of privacy. I continued, "These aren't our women and Ahmad doesn't look too happy..." I started putting on my coat and headed towards the door.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm gonna leave..." Eron said. He then turned back to the living room and the look in his eyes betrayed him. He was going to stay and he was going to Go For It. I said a silent prayer and left that godforsaken house.
That night Eron accompanied the 50 year old down into The Dungeon, the bass-filled basement/bedroom/lair of Ahmad. The air itself is considered a sexually transmitted disease, the carpet a living thing not unlike our outter layer of skin. I haven't seen or heard from Eron since. We might send a rescue team down there if we can arrange the funds and find enough willing orphans.
And so it ended, like every night for the past year, with me going sexless. But I learned a very important lesson: Christmas is for giving, not receiving, and that San Dimas High School Football? It rules.
Update From The Gay Bar Dancefloor
The new Madonna album is awesome. She's all like, relevance here I come. And I'm all like, I love Madge.
VIEW 23 of 23 COMMENTS
Ok. I shall not rant in your journal. Your cat is very cute.