one of us
| Here is what we have so far. Punctuation has been added where needed to make this flow somewhat.
While hunting in my underwear, and itching like a drunkun camel jockey, I looked into my shorts and sobbed. It was with my hand that I was not nosepicking with fully filling the thing, even though I tried hard to find the thing I could only find a bright pink tick that had become quite engorged, bell ended and probably given me genital herpes. Yee Haw!! I shouted excitedly, knowing that AR fever would soon make me spank the wife, and monkey. However being sore I decided to rub on a fence post while rattling a sombrero against elk antlers, when a llama stomped on with a huge war cannon, sodomized my elk decoy and gored my Remington. With a grin, I did him in. A .470 Nitro revolver is overkill, but works! You never can tell my ex-wife a single thing wihout ending the sentence in a knock against men. After slapping her boobs they bounced not once, but continuously. I remembered why I left my golf tees behind a very large pile of elk steaks that smelt like a steaming pile of crap, but then I sensed evil nearby and immediately mounted my gargoyle, named Clinton Gore. I rode him while shooting Hillary & Tipper, while watching the Simpsons and shaking like a dog's donger. All of a sudden Kerry flip-flopped again and screwed every American with a large slimy piece of himself. Meanwhile, Edwards made excuses, chasing ambulances with a big grin on his liberal slack-jawed face, with only pure unadulterated glee, for an ambulance had three naked pre-teen boys- asked me where's Willy? Willy who? Willy Billy. Policital boors all suck big time. Meanwhile back in Zanzibar, my ex-wife decided to run off with the lawyer Hillary, exclaiming that Monica and her schnauzer were good but twisted. Her ponytail was long but not as thick as her underarm hair cascading earthward, quickly spreading to her hairy toes! Meanwhile, back on Mt. St. Helens, I ate some bad mushrooms, the colors reminded me of homosexual encounters Kerry had hidden from Teresa, whos checkbook sustains him. Later that day, stomach pains required removal of the crotchless panties I had somehow swallowed while spying on Osama Bin, this old man thought. Suddenly I screamed "My Cupcake is leaking diesel fuel down my ass crack!" Quickly clenching my cheeks, I called for backup. But, it too early and way to hard, so then I fainted. Immediately upon awakening, I grabbed a Corona Light and shoved it firmly up my gopher hole, and he spit out another hispanic which was more than I could handle. I then drove off a steep cliff. However, I did not bring my wife along, so anybody who wanted her was to do unnatural acts is screwed. But then I remembered her parting words "up yours". I will once again always regret that I never shot my first load in her very big rifle range. I did however use my with a really big extra large extra girthy . . . . . . . |
in the crevice 
