Needed a little karma to get things rolling again. Fuggin' webmaster *cough*feben*cough* keeps locking out my IP so that I can't even SEE this bootch from work muchless post. All this and no damn chicks available for frequenting Casa de Thought this past weekend. Things seemed a BIT out of whack. So I just said, "Time to go back to the basics" and went to my parents crib.
Later that night, after they thought I'd driven all the way back to my pad, I grabbed a "J" out of my pocket and walked up to my neighbor's woodpile. Fuckin brisk out and comfortable. I was so excited I felt like I was going to drop a load in my boxers. Right before I lit my greenery, I knew I NEEDED to pound a 22 of 211, so I went on a 7-11 mission.
In 7-11 I snickered while I punched my finger through the last Hostess cupcake, fucking it up for the next fatass chick that walked in there looking for something to fatten her ass up with her Diet Coke. Right then I actually saw a fatass chick in there (not TOO fat- I would have fucked her after drinking my 22 of 211. Hell, I would have bent her over on the woodpile to help the Jergen's Patrol karma). But she was just in there buying some smokes. Still, at least I covered the bases. Whose to say she didn't go in there with the intention of getting a hostess cupcake, saw the one I fucked up, and renigged and went for the smokes? Smokes make you less hungry, thus maybe I'll cause her to lose some weight and get down to bangable size.
Anything is possible for an ex-Jarhead if he puts his mind and swollen balls to it.
I squinted my eyes and nodded with fucking nobility (back to the damn basics) as she purchased her 'Bro Lights - also my dad's brand. Went back to the woodpile with my 22 in the bag and perched my ass up there.
Right before twisting the cap off, I got ANOTHER idea. If I already had a doob and a 22, why not go for the hat trick? Why not shoot my wad on that damn woodpile? I set the bleezy and beer aside and whipped out my crank and started thinking of that fatass in 7-11. Since the Siccness has been fucked up lately (I'm missin EDJ's homophobia threads already) and the posts on here aren't that great, I figured I would take one for the fucking team and do a D-Dawg slump-buster. Not the same as actually fucking her, but close.
It was tough, but I thought of her on EACH stroke and completed my slump buster for your bastard asses. Then I pounded that 22 and lit up my "J" in celebration and shook my head with a Cowher scowl and whispered, "WAR D-Money."
Slumpbuster complete, now I rest in faith that either my IP issues get fixed or Blight post more Soc's vs. Greeser threads. Fuck me running.
D-Money
WAR hopping on a grenade for the brothers.
Later that night, after they thought I'd driven all the way back to my pad, I grabbed a "J" out of my pocket and walked up to my neighbor's woodpile. Fuckin brisk out and comfortable. I was so excited I felt like I was going to drop a load in my boxers. Right before I lit my greenery, I knew I NEEDED to pound a 22 of 211, so I went on a 7-11 mission.
In 7-11 I snickered while I punched my finger through the last Hostess cupcake, fucking it up for the next fatass chick that walked in there looking for something to fatten her ass up with her Diet Coke. Right then I actually saw a fatass chick in there (not TOO fat- I would have fucked her after drinking my 22 of 211. Hell, I would have bent her over on the woodpile to help the Jergen's Patrol karma). But she was just in there buying some smokes. Still, at least I covered the bases. Whose to say she didn't go in there with the intention of getting a hostess cupcake, saw the one I fucked up, and renigged and went for the smokes? Smokes make you less hungry, thus maybe I'll cause her to lose some weight and get down to bangable size.
Anything is possible for an ex-Jarhead if he puts his mind and swollen balls to it.
I squinted my eyes and nodded with fucking nobility (back to the damn basics) as she purchased her 'Bro Lights - also my dad's brand. Went back to the woodpile with my 22 in the bag and perched my ass up there.
Right before twisting the cap off, I got ANOTHER idea. If I already had a doob and a 22, why not go for the hat trick? Why not shoot my wad on that damn woodpile? I set the bleezy and beer aside and whipped out my crank and started thinking of that fatass in 7-11. Since the Siccness has been fucked up lately (I'm missin EDJ's homophobia threads already) and the posts on here aren't that great, I figured I would take one for the fucking team and do a D-Dawg slump-buster. Not the same as actually fucking her, but close.
It was tough, but I thought of her on EACH stroke and completed my slump buster for your bastard asses. Then I pounded that 22 and lit up my "J" in celebration and shook my head with a Cowher scowl and whispered, "WAR D-Money."
Slumpbuster complete, now I rest in faith that either my IP issues get fixed or Blight post more Soc's vs. Greeser threads. Fuck me running.
D-Money
WAR hopping on a grenade for the brothers.
