if i had a million dollars, i would

if i had a million dollars, i would
pay someone to write a two million dollar story. Then I'd get it published and
refused by some idiot not realizing its potential. 'Cause that's life sometimes. You have something of value that only you yourself know how to put a price on. A good story has
value when you make your friend laugh so hard she leaks a little. There isn't a pelvic floor made which can withstand the punishment meted out by my story about the time I mistook
my ex-boyfriend's Swedish penis pump for a bicycle tire inflation device. I tried to pump up my dad's ten-speed with it but he knew right off that was a no-go. His blowup doll
was filled with hydrogen. After a night of heavy drinking his sex doll erupted into flames and crashed into the coffee table. His drinking buddy Russ cried, "Oh, the humidity."
He forlornly picked up rubber remnants of his exploded sex doll. Ross didn't understand. There was real love there but now (wiping away tears) she was gone. All he had left of her
was a scrap of latex hair and a piece of her continually-surprised mouth. Ross quivered as he mourned; what was he to do? Of course, he could resort to
modified water bottles and mashed bananas, but what good would that do without being able to look into her wide eyes and see that pouty mouth. Oh Gina he moaned, why
didn't you listen to me." His sullen voice broke the fragile denial she had left. Finally, she had to admit it. A minuscule raise and fall of her shoulders left everything unsaid.

1 Comments

Want to leave a comment?