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Friday, August 21, 2009


So when I awoke this morning I was horny enough to hump a mailbox, but there was no outlet for the sudden attack of morning randiness so I coped as best I could during my commute into Manhattan from the Slope. But while riding the rails I was visually assaulted by what seemed to be a legion of toothsome females, each more scantily-clad than her predecessor in an attempt to stave off the stifling humidity, every one displaying acres of tanned and lightly sweaty flesh that was not offered for a kind nuzzle from Yer Bunche.

It was a thirty-five minute tour through Tartarus.

Finally the train arrived at Forty-Second Street and I made my way above ground, struggling to walk straight and not trip over the semi-tumescent bowling pin that lurked in my boxers. And then even the trees mocked my plight:

(Yeah, I know it was a bit of a stretch to set up a cheap gag. So what? I'm half asleep. Eff you.)


Jim Browski said...

Could give new meaning to the term Tree Hugger

Deacon Blue said...

Go green, Bunche!. Go green...

Kevin M. Hagerman said...

Does she have a sister?