hooking up vag to cocks son!
it's kinda my thing
Operation find a lady to smooch my friend's bone is hitting some roadblocks, ya'll. For some reason most of the ladies do not understand that I am talking about my FRIEND having a huge cock, rapist wit and pecs that vibrate like a faulty dildo. The conversation strangely turns even stranger when they see that I am wearing a wedding ring. Why do the ladies assume that a guy wearing a wedding ring is more accessible than a guy without one? If I am ever single, after my wife takes 75% of my paycheck and impinges on my financial freedom like an unstoppable rebel force hell bent on total annihilation, I plan on using the money I attain from frequent blood/semen donations on purchasing a fake wedding ring in order to attain more chances to mate.
Anyway, on to other things. My parents, JJ and his adorable but totally spoiled daughter (I know little kids are supposed to be spoiled, shaddup) mosey on over, and get set on doing what they do with the hoodoo that you do (I made that up), which meant JJ got onto the internets to satiate his urban musical pop culture youtube video viewings, his daughter started throwing toys all over the floor literally 10 minutes after I finished cleaning the game room, my mom ate half of the coffee cake I was saving for the week and my dad shit my toilet into oblivion.
Sure I was annoyed, everyone gets annoyed when family comes by; it's one of those things like your wiener shrinking up right before someone sees it, or becomes enhugified right before a very unattractive doctor has to look at it, these things happen and become those gently moments, faded by the passage of time and the knowledge of advanced years, which lose their embarrassing undertones and become thought-provoking moments to laugh softly over in the twilight of your life, shitting your diaper so that smart-assed nurse has a reason to treat you like crap. But it wasn't QUITE crappy enough yet.
Enter the Smeagol.
The first call was about 5 minutes before JJ called to let me know he was on his way. I did not feel like talking to a raptor, it's hot in the house and I had been cleaning all day.
Of the 6 calls, it's funny that each call got more desperate and pathetic as time went on.
Call #1: "Hey niggie it's Smeagol, just wondering what all you are doing today, or..."
Call #2: "Hey Stevester this is Smeagol, I was just wondering if JJ and them are going up to your house for something? I was wondering what, maybe you could come pick me up too, I wanna hang out.:
Call #3: "Hey niggie, I heard you were going to cook some barbecue at your house this weekend, I was wondering if you could come pick me up because I haven't eaten in 4 days, I'm so huuuuuungryyyy..."
Call #4: "Steve...I..
Call #5: "Call me niggie, I need food, I'm hungry, call me baaaaaaaaaack"
I finally spoke to him on call #6. I told him that I was outside cooking and did not answer the phone. "Hey niggie did you get a laptop from work for me?" I like how as soon as he finds out I do not plan on picking him up to eat and let him rob my house and then take him home he goes for the silver prize: "No I did not steal any computer equipment from work for you to pawn" I said something like that, at least. He then grunts again and hangs up.
I ought to have a cookout, film it with all of my friends there, enjoying ourselves, and then send said video to him to make him feel more like the loser he is.