| I woke up at 4:03 am with my stomach grumbling and enough gas to fill the Alaskan Pipeline. At the time - a scant few hours ago - that greasy 7-11 bean burrito was the finest drunken feast I'd ever had. That was yesterday, however, and now I have a meeting uptown with that pig Jones; so I better grab a shower fast cause I stink like a monkey. As always, I was slow to get moving. I went to the living room, turned on CNN, smoked a half a dozen Luckys and swilled a cold cup of yesterday's coffee. Unfortunately Jones was the only contact I had. I hated dealing with him, the oily bastard. The grease in his smile could cook French fries. I had a shit, masturbated, and took a quick shower. I threw on a wrinkled grey suit ; out the door I went. The November air hit my face like a slap from a pretty woman. I caught my vibe in the hallway mirror and noticed that some ejaculant had seeped through my unpressed trousers. I was running late for my meeting and had no time to worry about the stain. Inside the subway turnstiles I purchased a newspaper. Right there, on the stinkin' front page of the goddamn front page, was an unfortunate, and to my mind highly overstated reminder of one of the more forgettable of the details of the previous night's festivities. Shit! I hope noone recognizes me. The headliner was a pithy article about Rosie's recent stand up routine! I stashed it in my inner coat pocket and continued filing my nails. I'll read up on that later! I had sharpened my nails to a razor fine point. I was ready to hit the office and do some damage. Just then my ninja reflexes kicked in as I noticed a swanky young girl from the office walk by. I quickly dashed over and "accidentaly bumbed into this voluptuous wonder. I hoped she didn't notice the stain and that my smile wasn't capable of frying potatoes. Apparently neither, she was radiant as I apologized smiling. The train pulled into the station just in time to save me from further embarassment. I elbowed my way past a pod of wall-street drones heading downtown to their corporate prisons and made a bee-line for the only available seat, narrowly beating some old hag who thought she could guilt me into giving up the seat. . . "What kinda world is it?", I thought where a man with a slimy orgasm running down his thigh has to give up his seat on the train to some bag lady who smelt like she'd been riden hard and put away wet. Fuck her -- only a hottie with a rack like that babe from the office would inspire that sort of "senseless act of random kindness." I got a page telling me the meeting was called off. Since I now had some free time on my hands, I began looking around the train for miss office swank, while pulling my jacket down as far as I could to try and cover up the now drying stain on my pants "Sure hope the stain comes out.", I mused and laughed out loud at the pun. Harold new just how he would get back at his lover, as he bent the riding crop in his hand. This will be funner than watching monkeys wrestle sharks! By sharks I mean the retarded fucks down at the waterfront Shell station, I mean, how hard is it to clean a blood stain from a trunk anyway? I told the bitch that I wasnt going to take that shit for too much longer but I guess thick-headed assholes dont listen. Or women either for that matter... woman suck. I was startled out of my thoughts, (as were my neighbours in the subway car), by my bowels loudly clearing themselves of their most recent noxious creation. Hmmm.... and I was just about to figure out why women don't find me charming. I mused to myself, thinking why do all my thoughts sound like a cheap Jackie Collins novel? Maybe because I 've never read any good literature besides what I found in the letters page of Penthouse. How many bad metaphorical cliches could a mind spew out in one hour? Hmmm....speaking of Penthouse, how many times can a man ejaculate in an hour? I'll have to figure that one out sometime. Enough of venality, I thought, a fellow can't spend his life contemplating his biology, like some immature writer, it was time to don my waders and swim out into the swamp that was Manhattan. Oops, lest I forget that one CAN'T swim with waders!!!! I must wade, then. As I returned to the sidewalk and pretended to wade, I was amazed (and yes, excited) to stumble on a two-foot driftwood phallus. An armful of rifles and boots too big. Smoke billows between hills not far away. I find myself in a dirt lot with a napkin in my left palm, sorting through thorny caterpillars to give to the dog. I was struck by raindrops that cut through me like diamonds. -- towns on hills and the presence of darkness. As the winds blow and the clouds clutch at those who have praised, the phone rings... and I wake up - I have to stop eating those bean burritos! "Hello... Oh, Hi Mom." I was pondering the thought of the rack back at office I thought god what will I do with myself? So I did what every self-righteous man would do. I grabbed a bottle of Jack took a long pull and proceeded to blow chow all over myself.....God I love Monday mornings. My mother tells me my sister is being paroled and could I come up for the weekend to show her some moral support. I was lovin every minute of it. Of course, the last time I came up for moral support, it resulted in her getting arrested. I learned a very costy lesson, don't insult the police chiefs penis durning an orgy. And don't get so drunk you think your sister is a hottie. Glacing over that the clock radio, it was 6:15 am now so I rose and showered and went to denny's. As I waited for my order, in came the swanky young girl from the office. She was dressed to the nines and painted up like a street walker but boy did she make my toast burn. I pinched myself, and yep! I'm awake no bad dreams about cum stained pants on the subway. Or the fact that Jones had bailed. He couldn't. Not if he wanted to survive the month. And as I mused, miss office hottie walked over and slid beside me just as Jones appeared. H trailed the waitress, a cup of Joe in her hand and my menu. I thanked her for the coffee and ordered a burrito. As I practiced standing the salt shaker on it's edge, I saw a van pull up to the curb outside. In the very same instant that I saw the van, I noticed that there were two men getting out and that I was suddenly aware of my heart pounding unevenly in my chest. One of the men was Jones but he was dressed strangely. He was wearing the weirdest hat. And he cried "Atomic Acumen and the Flaming Squeegee of Eternal Hellfire have come to save us" Only twin-sicles will save you scum jism ; the bag lady has two just for you ; one for your mouth and one for your asshole! Die you scum sucking 7-11 buritto. A burrito with the perfect likeness of Bart Simpson toasted into the flatbread. Jesus, I thought, what's in this thing? The number of lizard people in this diner was climbing - fast. Then I woke Up. And It was all a dream, A very misguided dream! I realized I forget to take my meds, because I'm rather nuts Fuck'in nuts I should stop talking to myself. Because I'm just that screwed UP! I patted my suit side pocket to make sure the .38 was still there and hadn't fallen out during the subway ride. The lump was there and slid my hand into the pocket just feel the comforting and familiar crosschecked grip in my hand. It was time to do in that oily bastard Jones, I had put it off one too many times. Salvation was at hand! Larry COoper had to fuck me i just had to get some of his large meaty dick inside of my steamy asshole i just had to get some of his large meaty dick inside of my steamy asshole had to fuck me Jorge Gonzales Mmm, weird. At least the vicodin's effects had worn off, and my cock was no longer the bright purple it once was. ... I kinda missed it being purple. That being said,I came up with an answer to an earlier quiery....six times, a man can ejaculate six times in an hour; given he's had a restful nights sleep and consumed his VIBE. And then i awoke from a dream - a terrible nightmare where my thoughts and actions were dictated by teenage sexfiends who were bored and up way to late in the night, but I thought to my drowsy self, this might be interesting, and I flopped back onto my pillow. sex Why write an open novel? I found the truth to be lies, and all the joy within me died. I needed somebody to love. And so I met the wonderful Yulia She wore a black tattered ribbon in her hair. Damm what a suck day!
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