What Was I Thinking

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May 31, 2023 // By:analsex // No Comment

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(Foreigner’s ‘Cold as Ice’ plays over opening credits and voiceover)Living in Houston I was accustomed to miserable heat and humidity but I was, like every other Houstonian, very unaccustomed to our current plight of bitter cold. My power was off and my water pipes were as frigid as Gwyneth Paltrow’s pussy. Cabin fever was my only source of heat. Coupled with the depressing Covid lockdown, a contentious election, and discovering my latest girlfriend was a game player of Biblical proportions, I was an emotional wreck.I should have suspected her since her name is Parker Brothers. She felt she had a Monopoly on my heart but I didn’t need a Ouija Board to know our relationship was at Risk. It was so toxic we have matching skull and crossbones tramp stamps.When she left for Sweden to accept the Nobel Prize for Lying I knew it was time to move on. Still, it saddened me. She wielded a feeldoe like Picasso used a paintbrush. Our long-term relationship had been two of the happiest days of my life. Despite that, I still cared about her even if I did seek my Old Testament vengeance. They say “Revenge is a dish best served cold.” My mistake was serving it in a crockpot which made my revenge tender and delicious. The combination of pandemic and weather was having disastrous effects on my income; adding to my acute depression. Like the current temperature, my bank balance was in single digits.Thankfully, depression led me to spend my days in bed. At three PM my alarm went off. I dejectedly rose, discovering more horrific Ankara escort news. Just as I sat on my Lazy Girl recliner to smoke a bowl of weed I sadly realized my stash was as empty as Parker’s promises.During the night a mouse had chewed through the baggie and helped itself to my treasured herb. Then, with rampant munchies,  it emptied my Funyans too. Now I had a stoned rodent with bad breath roaming my domicile. I would set a trap if I could afford cheese, but Jeff Bezos I ain’t. I’m barely Jeff Dunham. Luckily, I had one refill left on my pain meds. I grabbed the spare change scored at last night’s Phish concert and began my long walk to the ‘Opioid Outlet’ pharmacy. Along the way, I reflected on my unfaithful ex. Her smile was as heartwarming as a baby’s giggle but most importantly her tongue was long and talented. I would sit for hours watching her braid her brunette locks using only her tongue. Those thoughts were warming my bearded clam making me hornier than Pepe Le Pew on the Champs-Elysees. Finally arriving at the pharmacy located in the trunk of an ’82 Chevy Vega I noticed a Houston Chronicle newspaper box frozen open. Grabbing a handful I scanned the classifieds hoping Sandra Bullock was looking for a roommate. She wasn’t.”What’s all this then,” I exclaimed in my best British accent. What caught my attention was an ad:  “Seeking amateur women for Naked Truth casting audition. Up to four-hundred-dollars if qualified” Casting? They pay four-hundred bucks to Ankara escort bayan teach me to fish? For that kind of money, I’ll catch Free Willy with a cane pole. What kind of fishing could they do in this ungodly weather anyway; ice fishing for Mrs. Paul’s frozen fish sticks?I promptly called the included number where a friendly Naked Truth rep answered, correcting my misconceptions. Instead of fishing, they were trolling for fresh faces for adult cinema; or ‘skin flicks’ as they’re called in high society. Since financial desperation can turn a saint into a whore I signed up. It was my fifth bad decision of today; well beneath my average.”What’s your name?” she asked pleasantly”Bertha Ipock,” I replied.”Oh no, that will never do! You need a name that generates raw sexuality. Like ‘Beef Jerky’ for instance. Let me see what’s available.” After a brief pause, she returned. “Rita Rectum is sadly taken but we do have Gloria Gaping available. They will be waiting for you at the audition, Ms. Gaping.” She then gave me directions to the office in a West Houston trailer park.Needing to bolster my nerves I bought my Percocets and washed them down with a bottle of cheap vodka. The destination was within walking distance if one enjoyed exercise. Which this one doesn’t.  Instead I ‘borrowed’ the only snow sled ever sold in H-town from a bawling toddler and went zipping down the hill like a scene from Cool Running. Exhilarated I arrived at Naked Truth HQ. In a pretentious display Escort Ankara of class the company’s name was written in crayon on yellow construction paper then taped to the trailer’s door. Climbing two broken steps, I entered the door with a broken hinge. (Wasn’t that a Hardy Boys novel?) Inside I was greeted by some dude looking like a down-on-his-luck George ‘Goober’ Lindsey. Continuing the class motif he was wearing a pale-blue leisure suit.In an accent reminiscent of Foghorn Leghorn he said, “Y’all come on in here. It’s as cold as a well-digger’s ass ain’t it, y’all? You must be Gaping?””Not yet,” I quipped nervously. He guffawed.”If you ain’t funnier than Larry the Cable Guy!” Was that meant as a compliment?  He continued, “I’m Cal Zone, proprietor of Naked Truth. Sorry for the mess but we’ve been busier than a one-legged man in a derriere-kicking contest if you’ll pardon my French. I was just fixin’ to eat my dinner. I’m having pulled pork, cornpone, french-fried taters, and coleslaw; all washed down with a gallon of sweet tea. For dessert, it’s a moon pie smothered in sausage gravy. Are you hankerin fer some?””No thank you. My doctor has me on a strict non-hillbilly diet.” “Goldurn, ya’ll make me happier than a boll weevil in a cotton field but lay off the jokes. You’re gonna make me piss my pants…again. Why don’t you park it over yonder while I eat.”I began walking to the faded chair before his desk when he stopped me; fastening a collar around my neck. Not a BDSM thing. It was a flea collar to ward off the chair’s plentiful parasites. Sitting while he clogged his arteries I surveyed his less-than-impressive shag carpet office. Behind him, impossible to miss, hung an enormous Confederate flag. I cringed but maybe he was just a Lynyrd Skynyrd fan. ‘Freebird’  makes me forgive a lot.

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