Dane Barbados Jr. Hates: Southern Maryland III

Anyhow back to the tale.

There were the five of us. We, predictably I know, once again partook of Nature's Embrace. Dane Barbados Jr. was feeling the vibe, trying to distract myself from the horrid cumbucket in front of me when a sixth joined our motley crew.

He was "Stacy's" brother. A perfectly friendly, perfectly vacuous and braindead, young man whom we'll call "Yousef."

Yousef was a friendly enough chap, merely lacking even the barest of intelligence that God (not Dane Barbados Jr...the other God) gave a housecat.

Mere seconds after Yousef's entrance Stacy and the olive complected beauty decided that they wanted to arm-wrestle. Topless arm-wrestle.

Oh you heard the dulcet tones of Dane Barbados Jr. correctly my children. Stacy shirked her blouse and bra to arm-wrestle...WITH HER BROTHER IN THE ROOM.

I can only imagine that you're as disgusted as I was and still am.

Even the site of the tight body and firm breasts of the olive-complected molly could keep Dane Barbados Jr. in that room. It was not happening.

I retreated into the living area, stretched out on the couch, and succumbed into the silky, sensual embrace of the Sleep Demons...

...only to be awakened by the olive-skinned molly loudly exclaiming "there's a MAAAAN on that couch!"

At being so rudely awakened but the caterwalling Dane Barbados Jr. did what came natually. He hurled one of is sized-13 Italian boots in the general direction of her head.

Though, alas, being muddled by the combined efforts of Sleep Demons, Nature's Embrace, and finest Belvedere mine aim was not true.

Then the molly decided that she was ready to brave the Earth shattering crotch of Barbados. She slid on the couch next to me, pressed her topless body to mine, her long, erect, nipples threating to draw the blood from the very chisled chest of Barbados. She trailed her thin, long-fingered hands to the waistband of my slacks...when Dane Barbados Jr. came to an epiphany...

Here was a slattern. Swarthy? Yes. Toned? Yes. Perky bosomed? Oh yes. Dark haired? Yes.

But then again she was a familiar of Stacy, a sexual unknown, I had just thrown a rather large and heavy implement at her head, and above all else, lived in Southern Maryland.

Once the muddled mind of Dane Barbados Jr. put those puzzle pieces together he did the only sensible thing: He gently placed a large, silk-covered, foot directly in her crotch region and used it to lovingly shove her from the couch onto the floor.

Then Dane Barbados Jr. slept the sweet and serene sleep that only comes after a particularly ribald bout of carnailty or a satisfying bit of Bastardry.

The next morning she wsa nowhere to be found. Later after a breakfast of Krispy Kreme donuts (truly the finest thing to EVER come from the Americas) and Nature's Embrace, my associate came up to me and asked: "So...did you hook up with whatshername?"

To which I issued a hearty backhand chop and a "no" to which he replied:

"That's a good thing man. That chick is like 32, she's an ex-Marine, has two kids, takes a couple of classes here...

...oh, and she LOOOOVES the cock."

All your humble narrator Dane Barbados Jr. could do was shake his head.

Dear sycophants,

If ever you are unfortunate enough to find yourself in St.Mary's County Maryland, or surrounding Southern Maryland you must remember: no matter how attractive she is, no matter how easy she seems, she more likely than not has kids, is a loser, and is a gigantic, disease carrying, whore.

Thusly, Dane Barbados Jr. hates Southern Maryland.

You have been enlightened.