Just make sure the hole is clean before you put your mouth on it.

Just make sure the hole is clean before you put your mouth on it.

 

In life, you either have to get something done or you want to get something done.  (Do I go to work or do I go to the park?)  The trick is to learn the shortest time between what you have to do and what you want to do.  These are called short cuts.  Now, a common misperception is that short cuts incorporate poorly devised strategies.  No elfin way is this true.  How are you going to take a good short cut if you don’t know the outcome of said short cut?  You are betting on yourself to get lucky, which is a bet a sick whore on a toilet wouldn’t take.

More accurately, a good short cut is a calculated step that requires previous experience and knowledge of the situation’s outcome.  Unfortunately for all you rookies out there, this means you usually have to complete a task the long and difficult way the first time or two before you can implement short cuts.  Once first timers get the hang of things, they can cut out unnecessary busy work needed to complete that task until one day the task just does itself somehow.  The only exception to this rule is having sex for the first time but having needed something better to do (which I highly doubt, you virgin idiot).  You were probably able to skip out on all the hard work before finishing the job just in time for a nice nappy pooh.

Although they can be timely initially, short cuts are a half-asser’s wet dream come true.  Short cuts provide quick solutions to life’s questionably necessary busy work, allowing you to get back to what’s really important; putting your mouth on glory holes in public park restrooms.

 

I was driving home the other night from The Hangover with my lovely wifey pooh when the car I was driving was nearly cut off by some radical dudes with tassels on their rear view.  Now, my initial reaction was that I was going to knife these bitches if they started any sh&t, but that feeling eventually escalated (that’s right, more higher).

The inconsiderate punks flipped a sick bitch (it was a power move) and hauled some serious balls right up next to my ride.  You’ll have to understand here, when I mentioned at the beginning of this story that “I was driving“, what I meant was J Dubs, my lover, was driving.

Not only is she a better driver than me at night (I don’t have glasses), she has a hot rack, and I was drunk, but she didn’t know that.  It made sense she drove.

Anyway, these jerk terds, all jostled and riled because they almost hit me, came screaming up next to my ride.  These dudes were crazied in the faces and loud.  The driver’s all, ”Ah, foo! We’se gonna f*ck you up and take your sense of self worth!  You drive negligently!  I’m gonna get a pistole and choo choo.  Even with our limited knowledge of the world and lack of maturity, we graduated foo (from what, he didn’t say).  See my tassel?!”

At that point, I’m livid.  My buzz was wearing off and the light we were sitting at just turned green.  The little hand was already blinking in the cross walk.  I took off my seat belt and reached out of my car, grabbing for nothing but thin air (these dudes were like 8 feet away).  I started screaming obscenities and snarling.  I talked and spit.  I closed my eyes really tight giving the impression that I wasn’t able to see dog sh()t when it was in it’s mom’s station wagon (ba zing!).

Meaningless dribble and insults followed.  And finally I yelled, “You druggers!”  We drove away.  They drove away to buy drugs.  My lovin and loin muscles were throbbing from anxiety and excitement.  I lip kissed the girl and we went home.

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