It was a quiet autumn night, and I started to gain a bit of an appetite. With my crappy work schedule seldom allowing me to see my friends, and the word crappy might be a wrong choice of adjectives here, I'll explain later. I decided to go grab some chow at Arby's by myself. I got in my car with the windows down, the tunes lightly playing in the background, and the calm smooth wind playing their sweet crisp audible waves in my eardrums. When I got there several minutes later, I ordered food and sat down in the dining room. I had nowhere to go, and nothing to do, so why not eat there. I was the only person there, until she walked in. She was a smokeshow. A brick house. A masterpiece. And albeit, she was dining in too! She sat a few tables over and started eating her food. We kinda kept giving once overs on each other, without trying to get caught. I knew I had to try and do something. I had
nothing to lose, which juxtaposes eating at Arby's by yourself. I went over and she gracefully let me sit and eat with her. We laughed and had good conversation. Arbys was going to close soon, so we made our way to the parking lot. The events in that parking lot took quite a turn. We got in my car, listened to music, and kept chatting, until things got a little steamy. We started making out, and one thing lead to... Let's say not another, but something other. She tells me to get in my back seat. We both lunge in the back and I think ‘just the action I needed’. But, she pulls my pants off and doesn't reciprocate. She begins polishing my chassis, if you will, and then tells me to get on all fours and spread my buns. She begins licking the brown creamy center. And let's not forget it was still a warm, yet cool, autumn night. I also hogged down 3 Beef 'N Cheddars at Arby's right
before. Swamp ass and Arby’s stomach don't always result in one’s favor. She tickled my taint and asshole to the point of release. And I don't mean from my meat, just like the kind Arby's has. I farted in her mouth, and it was wet, loud, and gave no mercy. She cursed at me very profusely, ran out of the car, and stormed off in hers. I never knew what happened to her. But Kelce, if you ever read this, it was a magical night I'll never forget, and maybe we can consider going to a Panera Bread instead and try going all the way after we eat.
“I never said bitch make me a sandwich. I said there’s bread, bacon, and beer in the kitchen, could you bring me some dinner? Way different. But in our society, things get reinterpreted and intention gets misconstrued. It turns out, she was a bitch. But I never said that at the time. I am saying it now though. If you don’t know the backstory, it was my friend’s wife. We were relaxing after a hard game of Scrabble and I thought it was normal to ask for some food. It was 7:30 in the damn evening and to be honest, I needed a drink. Anyway, she asked if there was anything else I required. I said, well yes, a little pep in your step if you don’t mind. That was all it took to her to call me a misogynist. I deserve better treatment. Frankly, I deserve dinner. A sandwich if you will.”
“New Rule: If you don’t want to f*ck me... and let’s be real. Who does? Can you at least buy me a burger? I go out of my way to walk up to you after my paynus (penis) gets the giggle and the wiggle and the best you can do is get disgusted? Listen. I don’t need your dusty, never do well vagina to have a good life. I have The Food Network and Pork Rinds. And if you do invite me over, please don’t get weird if I ask to see your leftovers. Why do you think I was staring at your ass? It’s a tell all sign. Big ass, big fridge. And you know you’re not going to eat it all anyway. So please... stop pretending you don’t like a man that can eat his weight in food. You’re not all that and a bag of chips, but if you are I’ll take the chips. It’ll go well with the burger. Okayyy.”
“The vagina is the cave of life. You can enter but can you leave? That’s the price of living in society. It’ll brand you with lust and then you’re naked in the woods with a hard on and no compass. Your d*ck will always point toward the cave but is that really always the best way? You’ve lost your sense of direction. You’re a mad man with no wife. And no life! You’re the mirror image of pornography. A man in his ripped up briefs with chips on his lips. Seeking admiration from a bitch with good hips. That’s just plain dishonor. A casual dripping away of manhood. Make a shift. You need to give up the goose and let society give you a raspberry. Right on the anus! That’ll shake things up. Maybe then, in the midst of awkward confusion, will you live with honor and walk through the cave of life with no attachment.”
Danny Devito tries his luck at raunchy, sexist standup comedy with terrible punchlines in an attempt get women:
"What's gayer than a big c*ck in your mouth? Me for stickin it in your f*ck hole instead of bangin that broad over there."
“I got that one off a popsicle stick but I shoved it up my ass and now I can’t find it. Does anyone have a pipe cleaner or forceps?”
“My next trick involves a woman entering my bedroom and me entering her. Who wants sloppy seconds?”
“In my mind, I already f*cked you. And guess what, it wasn’t that great. See ya later bitch.”
“Lives are devastated by this thing we call COVID but can I get an onion? I try to cry and no tears will flow, I just need to cut an onion. All stores are open but none will suffice. Everything available but onions. That alone almost leads to tears but it doesn’t. Nothing with suffice. Not even the news of COVID-19. My friends come over one or two at a time, devastated with wet eyes. My eyes are dry like cake. If only I had an onion. They’d say oh Jordan, it’s ok. But now I’m just a smiling man who can’t even fake a cry. I’m like Pinocchio and all I need is an onion to give me the courage to act like a real boy. I go to the store and all I see is darkness. Peaches. Plums. They’re all there. As if to taunt me and say, you don’t matter. All I want are onions now but they don’t exist. Did they ever exist? Do I exist? Am I an onion? Now I’m crying. I’m real.”
“Yea, ok. Sure. He’s handsome. But we all know that already. The presidency shouldn’t be a popularity contest based on having a Clint Eastwood appeal. Do I agree with his politics? Well, that brings up another point. I haven’t paid much attention to what he says. Therefore, I can’t tell you how well he would do in the anal office. Excuse me. The bl*wjob office. To go back to the point I was making, I haven’t been pulled in by Joe Biden’s foreplay. He hasn’t enticed me. He hasn’t wet my appetite and therefore what can I say of a man with no words? Sure he has words. We all do. But does he know how to use them? Does he know how to stroke both my ego and my back while flexing his own muscles and making me think he’s a real renaissance man. No. But I do like the man. Superficially if anything.”
“To be frank. And I know many are not going to appreciate this, but you can’t beat around the bush if you want to get in that bush. If you do, you’ll be beating your own male member that night and we all know that’s not the noblest of acts but we’ve all been there. It’s typical of western society. If you go on one of these free online quasi brothels like Tinder, talk about yer d*ck. That’s it. Shiver me Tinder as I say. Take the blanket off, walk out into the cold air of free speech and talk about yer d*ck!”
"Bake me a cake as fast as you can. I’ll tell you what, you can go to hell without your damn cake. If I was the baker, I’d have thrown that customer in the sewer. Go with the rats where you belong, I’d reiterate. We need patience in society. Waiting is what grows beards and balls. Ever see an old man with a beard ON his balls? That’s a man of patience. He didn’t rush to the grave. A real man and the mighty oak have one thing in common. Standing still. You want a cake? It’ll cost you. And not just money. Time. Your life. You can come by two years later and get your damn cake. How worthy are you? Can you wait it out? Do you really want it or are you just a materialist with a bad habit of no self control? This is not Twinkie Town where cakes are baked in an easy bake oven with no sacrifice. This is life. It takes muscle to churn butter and wisdom to add spice. The spice of life is not given to stubborn men that want immediate gratification. Patience is a virtue they say. Life is gonna hump you and give you a run for your money but can you hold on for the ride, ride it out, and save yourself for marriage? Can you spare your seed for years and remain a respectable human being like Copernicus? The nectar of success is found in innovation. Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer was a tortured soul but he turned fire into gold. That fire was his nose! He used life’s downs to give him an up."