What up, folks? It's your friendly neighborhood jackass talking smack. I just got back from Detroit this weekend. Maaaaaan, what a way to start the week. I had an excellent time in the city. I hit a gang of my old haunts and got sufficiently drunk. I called every woman I knew on Friday night and got every excuse in the book on why I couldn't score until Saturday night. I resigned myself to chillin' with the fellas on Friday, then the call came.
I got a call from one of my former interns. She's not from Detroit, but she was in town for another ex-interns bridal shower. (Full disclosure: yeah, I used to smash it, but not while she was my intern. I saw what happened to Bill C.) She told me she was downtown and she wanted to see me. I met her at a club that was full of niggas and broads who watch too much BET. Anyway, I see her and I couldn't believe my eyes. It looked like this broad was on an all pudding diet. She was huge. No, better yet, she was DENSE, VOLUMOUS, STUFFED, MASSIVE, DOUGHY. I was taken aback. I had just seen her a year ago and she was curvy and just thick.
So I walk up to her and hug her. Puddin' (that's what we'll call her) whispers in my ear, "Take me somewhere and fuck me." "What?" says I. "Take me somewhere and let me sit on your dick." I smile, but I'm kind of torn. I love a blunt woman, but damn, man, what happened to the goods? Any past readers of my illustrious blog knows about my sex life, or rather lack of it. Me and Ms. Palmer are old friends but I'm sick of her at this juncture. I need coochie, man! I say, "Let's go".
We're walking out of the club and she grabs my hand. I tense up. I don't think I'll be able to go through with this. I'm really not feeling good. I look over at Puddin' and I'm just not feeling it. We got to my car and we sit in it, not moving and not talking. I say "I'm really supposed to hook up with this other girl tonight. That's where I'm supposed to stay. " I'm lying, of course, because I've lost my nerve. She begins to rub on my crotch through my pants and says "I won't keep you all night. " I say to her "I can't chance it. I don't have any money for a hotel room and that's where I was planning to stay." Puddin' says, "I'll pay for a room." OK, so now I'm stuck, not to mention my little friend is wide awake and ready for action. Everyone who knows me knows that he's the brains of this operation. Eff it. I get on the freeway to go to a motel.
Driving on the freeway, Puddin' unzips my slacks and starts to ummmm....you know........ummmmmmmm...oops, sorry, flashback. I'm losing it. "Don't crash" says Puddin' and I'm having real trouble steering.
We get to a motel, she pays, and the rest as they say is history. That wasn't the only adventure I had this weekend, but it was the most noteable. I am now relegated to the role of "Sex Camel". Going to the city, getting as much as I can, and then going for long periods of time without. Much like our noble, hump-backed desert friend stores water, I store memories of getting the goods.
Keep it movin'
KZ
I got a call from one of my former interns. She's not from Detroit, but she was in town for another ex-interns bridal shower. (Full disclosure: yeah, I used to smash it, but not while she was my intern. I saw what happened to Bill C.) She told me she was downtown and she wanted to see me. I met her at a club that was full of niggas and broads who watch too much BET. Anyway, I see her and I couldn't believe my eyes. It looked like this broad was on an all pudding diet. She was huge. No, better yet, she was DENSE, VOLUMOUS, STUFFED, MASSIVE, DOUGHY. I was taken aback. I had just seen her a year ago and she was curvy and just thick.
So I walk up to her and hug her. Puddin' (that's what we'll call her) whispers in my ear, "Take me somewhere and fuck me." "What?" says I. "Take me somewhere and let me sit on your dick." I smile, but I'm kind of torn. I love a blunt woman, but damn, man, what happened to the goods? Any past readers of my illustrious blog knows about my sex life, or rather lack of it. Me and Ms. Palmer are old friends but I'm sick of her at this juncture. I need coochie, man! I say, "Let's go".
We're walking out of the club and she grabs my hand. I tense up. I don't think I'll be able to go through with this. I'm really not feeling good. I look over at Puddin' and I'm just not feeling it. We got to my car and we sit in it, not moving and not talking. I say "I'm really supposed to hook up with this other girl tonight. That's where I'm supposed to stay. " I'm lying, of course, because I've lost my nerve. She begins to rub on my crotch through my pants and says "I won't keep you all night. " I say to her "I can't chance it. I don't have any money for a hotel room and that's where I was planning to stay." Puddin' says, "I'll pay for a room." OK, so now I'm stuck, not to mention my little friend is wide awake and ready for action. Everyone who knows me knows that he's the brains of this operation. Eff it. I get on the freeway to go to a motel.
Driving on the freeway, Puddin' unzips my slacks and starts to ummmm....you know........ummmmmmmm...oops, sorry, flashback. I'm losing it. "Don't crash" says Puddin' and I'm having real trouble steering.
We get to a motel, she pays, and the rest as they say is history. That wasn't the only adventure I had this weekend, but it was the most noteable. I am now relegated to the role of "Sex Camel". Going to the city, getting as much as I can, and then going for long periods of time without. Much like our noble, hump-backed desert friend stores water, I store memories of getting the goods.
Keep it movin'
KZ
3 comments:
lawd, lawd, lawd..... I got one for you...you're a "sex camel" aka a monkey-camel. heehee.... the tales of the monkey-camel....keep up the outstanding work Zed!!!
Getting as much mean you have to protect yourself as much.... okay.
Thanks, MCM, I will. I always do.
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