Mwaning Hazina

Now show me your genitals


please, call me Woland Quote

:

please, call me Woland



*loves the text simulated Elmer Fudd voice*
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*loves the text simulated Elmer Fudd voice*




hahahaha

be careful with me today Palmer i am frisky i will bite your tits off Quote

hahahaha

be careful with me today Palmer i am frisky i will bite your tits off


meh well you sure won't fuck them off with that tiny gorilla pecker. (grinz)
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A sunny Saturday morning. The empty parking lot behind a very nice suburban church. KingKong82 sits at a little fold-up table you'd avoid at the most respectable of flea markets, on a much-too-heavy rollaway computer chair from 1997. There are no cars nearby. One can only assume the chair was pushed on an epic journey toward its glorious end. Kong sits back in his recliner, some pebbles placed behind the wheels as the chair is clunky and tends to roll back rather than recline. He wears a lobster bib, covering what must be a "The Man, The Legend" black tee, or we think as only the down arrow is partially visible. Not ruling out that the rest of the shirt doesn't say "Dressed maself! Please remind me if fly is down". A discarded egg mcmuffin wrapper has wandered against the parking lot chain fence. Only the mcmuffin crumbs on his lap and the dried ketchup on the corner of his lip, clinging to the slightly forgotten patch of stubble missed during the 5 am shave would hint that it was his. He waited.

The preparation. He'd spent weeks planning. The midnight invites illicitly etched in all of the lady's bathroom stalls of every KFC, White Castle and Taco Hut within five miles. Did he not invest enough in the marketing? The execution had been flawless. Kong winced in the sun, scoping the distant sidewalk. Nothing. Where were the customers? The King was in. He didn't understand. No, they didn't understand.

An old woman had seen the sign he was sure, and stopped at the entrance to the Our Lady of Blessed Prayers parking lot and looked through her coin purse, counting. Adjusting her glasses for a look at Kong, who tapped his chest with both hands, and leaning back with extended arms and a nod exclaimed in his best sales pitch, "Whassup?" . The window shopper looked back at her coin purse, shrugged, and waddled on. Opening Day would be long.

With a sigh and some struggle the bibbed man forces himself to his feet. He shuffled across the lot, past the dingey orange parking cones carefully set in anticipation of the crowd control surely needed. He feels a bit of agita in his chest. The second hashbrown was overdoing it. This would be a marathon, and a last minute poor breakfast decision would keep him from the Gold. Kong turned round the fence, examining his signs. "Vajayjays Eaten. $$2" Was he too hip? Do the ladies not say vajayjay? Just to be sure he put extra signs up a block with an 8 x 10 close-up of himself stapled to the paperboard, with tongue lapping as he held a fingered 'V' close up. The Internationally Accredited Distress Sign for "I will eat you". Or Victory. No. That couldn't be it. Perhaps his price point was too high. He'd crossed out the original $$5 and had replaced it with a $4 in magic marker, even scribbled "New Low Price!" and drew an arrow pointing to the right with a sharp turn. In case the ladies were lining up in confusion down the block. You know how it is.

He paused, and thought carefully. Kong crossed out the "$$2" and carefully wrote in all caps, 'NEGOTIABLE'. Did Negotiable have two t's? No time for second thoughts, it was nearly 11, and pedestrians would be out in full force. He should have brought more cones, and sidewalk chalk to draw arrows. He made his way back to headquarters at the back of the lot, falling into his chair. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his bib, and waited for the fish to jump into his boat. He was ready.

But the fish didn't come. Instead it was Officer Edwards who slowly pulled the patrol car into the lot. Into his pleasure den. Just rolling all up into his game. Fuck. Officer Edwards let out one half siren and turned on his lights.

"All right Nigel, show's over. You know I told you about this last time. You'll have to pack it up. You can't be posting these sort of placards across town. Next time I'm going to have to call your parents."

Defeated, Kong dropped his head, sighed and hoisted himself from his chair with the broken armrest. He stacked his cones and collected his posterboards and pushed his operation back home. Not for the last time though. Back to the drawing board. Back to plans of vaginas and world domination. He'd be back. Quote

LOL you devil .... you SO should put this in that other thread where no one visits!!!!! muhahahahahahahahaaha

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