Ultraslut

[El Stormo]

Holy shit, I thought Russell's pic was shooped, but apparently not:

 

[Shpongled]

ultraslut tulsartlu ultraslut tulsartlu ultraslut tulsartlu ultraslut tulsartlu

 

[Sentient 6]

just type it out a few times. It really flows off the keyboard. Your fingers just fly right through the whole word. One fluid motion.


Ultraslut

Ultraslut

Ultraslut

Ultraslut

Ultraslut









dibs on the band name.

no way dude Chastity Bono already had the name trademarked, right after she gets her addadictomy she's starting a band

 

[El Stormo]

A friend of mine, when he was thirteen years old he heard about "pegging." This is when a guy gets banged up the butt with a dildo. Stimulate the prostate gland hard enough, and the rumor is you can have explosive hands-free orgasms. At that age, this friend's a little sex maniac. He's always jonesing for a better way to get his rocks off. He goes out to buy a carrot and some petroleum jelly. To conduct a little private research. Then he pictures how it's going to look at the supermarket checkstand, the lonely carrot and petroleum jelly rolling down the conveyer belt toward the grocery store cashier. All the shoppers waiting in line, watching. Everyone seeing the big evening he has planned.

So, my friend, he buys milk and eggs and sugar and a carrot, all the ingredients for a carrot cake. And Vaseline.

Like he's going home to stick a carrot cake up his butt.

At home, he whittles the carrot into a blunt tool. He slathers it with grease and grinds his ass down on it. Then, nothing. No orgasm. Nothing happens except it hurts.

Then, this kid, his mom yells it's suppertime. She says to come down, right now.

He works the carrot out and stashes the slippery, filthy thing in the dirty clothes under his bed.

After dinner, he goes to find the carrot and it's gone. All his dirty clothes, while he ate dinner, his mom grabbed them all to do laundry. No way could she not find the carrot, carefully shaped with a paring knife from her kitchen, still shiny with lube and stinky.

This friend of mine, he waits months under a black cloud, waiting for his folks to confront him. And they never do. Ever. Even now he's grown up, that invisible carrot hangs over every Christmas dinner, every birthday party. Every Easter egg hunt with his kids, his parents' grandkids, that ghost carrot is hovering over all of them.

That something too awful to name.

 

[Malergion]

Hearne, 1715: "Nor was she a Woman of any Beauty, but was a nasty Ultraslut."

 

[Sentient 6]

Will I have your carrots and I'm not giving them back....I've become attached to them.....

 

[neal]

oh the money he would spend for an autographed WD carrot....

 

[BattleAngel]

A friend of mine, when he was thirteen years old he heard about "pegging." This is when a guy gets banged up the butt with a dildo. Stimulate the prostate gland hard enough, and the rumor is you can have explosive hands-free orgasms. At that age, this friend's a little sex maniac. He's always jonesing for a better way to get his rocks off. He goes out to buy a carrot and some petroleum jelly. To conduct a little private research. Then he pictures how it's going to look at the supermarket checkstand, the lonely carrot and petroleum jelly rolling down the conveyer belt toward the grocery store cashier. All the shoppers waiting in line, watching. Everyone seeing the big evening he has planned.

So, my friend, he buys milk and eggs and sugar and a carrot, all the ingredients for a carrot cake. And Vaseline.

Like he's going home to stick a carrot cake up his butt.

At home, he whittles the carrot into a blunt tool. He slathers it with grease and grinds his ass down on it. Then, nothing. No orgasm. Nothing happens except it hurts.

Then, this kid, his mom yells it's suppertime. She says to come down, right now.

He works the carrot out and stashes the slippery, filthy thing in the dirty clothes under his bed.

After dinner, he goes to find the carrot and it's gone. All his dirty clothes, while he ate dinner, his mom grabbed them all to do laundry. No way could she not find the carrot, carefully shaped with a paring knife from her kitchen, still shiny with lube and stinky.

This friend of mine, he waits months under a black cloud, waiting for his folks to confront him. And they never do. Ever. Even now he's grown up, that invisible carrot hangs over every Christmas dinner, every birthday party. Every Easter egg hunt with his kids, his parents' grandkids, that ghost carrot is hovering over all of them.

That something too awful to name.

That's actually from a Chuck Palahnuick story called Guts.

 

[Captain Beard]

I think he knows we know that.

 

[BattleAngel]

I was actually hoping that. Just making sure. Cough Cough. Sorry for the Douchebagedness.

 

[Captain Beard]

Why do they call it a bag? It's a rubber receptacle with a nozzle on it now.

 

[BattleAngel]

I'm watching lightning bugs... ha ha

 

[Captain Beard]

Are you squirting them with this douche-bag you claim to possess?

 

[BattleAngel]

Don't entice me, sir. I have tried, but alas. The little buggies cannot withstand the pressure. heh

 

[BattleAngel]

Why do they call it a bag? It's a rubber receptacle with a nozzle on it now.

Do I want to know why you speak with apparent authority on this subject?
(You sound Confident.)

 

[Captain Beard]

I tend to know things others wouldn't, and this gives me the privilege to speak that like.

 

[BattleAngel]

Then I will bask in your Semi-Medical Glory. And the Lightening Bug glory, of course.

Ultraslut. Ahhhh. I like.

 

[BattleAngel]

hahahaha! Caught your edit!

 

[Captain Beard]

We learn it in the first part of the psychiatric technician program too, but I figured it wasn't relevant enough to matter.

 

[BattleAngel]

We learn it in the first part of the psychiatric technician program too, but I figured it wasn't relevant enough to matter.

Relevant enough. Explains the 'couch' in your sig. *searches Google for a 'dining room table and chairs' icon...........*