Dane Barbados Jr. Hates: Southern Maryland II
To continue...
To escape the bowel-churning rage I was feeling about the bonfire Dane Barbados Jr. decided to retire to back to the house, "Green House" as it's known.
Immediately upon my grand entrance a porcelain-like bottle blonde throws herself into the burly arms of Barbados and says on a wind of cheap whiskey: "Oh my GOD! Are you El Torres? I'm looking for El Torres' paaaaaaarrrrtyyyyy. And I'm roooooolllllliiiiiiinnnnnnnng. Want a blowjob?"
When faced with the opportunity to recieve a oral satisfaction from a skinny, alabaster-skinned, blonde who's tripping the light fantastic on ecstacy many of you would fall to your knees and thank your God for the opportunity.
Dane Barbados Jr. however is not a loser like many of you. I grabbed the 85lb. barbie doll by her shoulders, lifted her from the ground, and deposited her atop the overflowing garbage pail.
As the swarthy, debonaire, gentleman that I am every, rolling, piece of shit there assumed that I was this "El Torres." Even a modern Adonis such as Dane Barbados Jr. can only break so many jawbones, implode so many kidneys and shatter so many clavicles whilst in Nature's Embrace. Eventually, with my fists dripping blood and splittle I relented and claimed the guise of "El Torres."
This tale is long already and there is still much to tell so I'll just say that my stint as El Torres ended with many an effeminate, pseudo-hippy, uber-prep, Hitler Youth male emmasculated and many a social-climing, gold digging, underfed, over sexed, high classed whore in training in tears.
At the end of that first night only five remained: Barbados, my associate, my host, his horrid woman (whom we'll call Stacy) and a fairly attractive, olive complected lass.
Another brief aside on "Stacy."
The first time I met this trollop I found her mildly attractive. Short, dark haired, well put together.
That all ended when once I was in St. Mary's, sitting on the couch with a vodka in one hand and a "blunt" in the other when this gutter-snipe came across my field. The unholy stench that followed was enough to (literally I might add) make my eyes water. Never in the life of Dane Barbados Jr. has there ever been a human being (let alone a female) to create that level of body odor.
It was a thing alive, it actually seemed to thicken the air as she passed, I could feel it's greasy sinews crawling up my nostrils, trying to make my gorge rise.
Also, puzzlingly, this confused cum-bucket shaved her legs and her motherbox...but not her armpits...and she has black hair. Disgust.
Anyhow, back to the tale.
Ugh...my God. The memory of that is enough to stagger Barbados even now. I must continue later.
Hold your breath.
To escape the bowel-churning rage I was feeling about the bonfire Dane Barbados Jr. decided to retire to back to the house, "Green House" as it's known.
Immediately upon my grand entrance a porcelain-like bottle blonde throws herself into the burly arms of Barbados and says on a wind of cheap whiskey: "Oh my GOD! Are you El Torres? I'm looking for El Torres' paaaaaaarrrrtyyyyy. And I'm roooooolllllliiiiiiinnnnnnnng. Want a blowjob?"
When faced with the opportunity to recieve a oral satisfaction from a skinny, alabaster-skinned, blonde who's tripping the light fantastic on ecstacy many of you would fall to your knees and thank your God for the opportunity.
Dane Barbados Jr. however is not a loser like many of you. I grabbed the 85lb. barbie doll by her shoulders, lifted her from the ground, and deposited her atop the overflowing garbage pail.
As the swarthy, debonaire, gentleman that I am every, rolling, piece of shit there assumed that I was this "El Torres." Even a modern Adonis such as Dane Barbados Jr. can only break so many jawbones, implode so many kidneys and shatter so many clavicles whilst in Nature's Embrace. Eventually, with my fists dripping blood and splittle I relented and claimed the guise of "El Torres."
This tale is long already and there is still much to tell so I'll just say that my stint as El Torres ended with many an effeminate, pseudo-hippy, uber-prep, Hitler Youth male emmasculated and many a social-climing, gold digging, underfed, over sexed, high classed whore in training in tears.
At the end of that first night only five remained: Barbados, my associate, my host, his horrid woman (whom we'll call Stacy) and a fairly attractive, olive complected lass.
Another brief aside on "Stacy."
The first time I met this trollop I found her mildly attractive. Short, dark haired, well put together.
That all ended when once I was in St. Mary's, sitting on the couch with a vodka in one hand and a "blunt" in the other when this gutter-snipe came across my field. The unholy stench that followed was enough to (literally I might add) make my eyes water. Never in the life of Dane Barbados Jr. has there ever been a human being (let alone a female) to create that level of body odor.
It was a thing alive, it actually seemed to thicken the air as she passed, I could feel it's greasy sinews crawling up my nostrils, trying to make my gorge rise.
Also, puzzlingly, this confused cum-bucket shaved her legs and her motherbox...but not her armpits...and she has black hair. Disgust.
Anyhow, back to the tale.
Ugh...my God. The memory of that is enough to stagger Barbados even now. I must continue later.
Hold your breath.
posted by Dane Barbados Jr. at 5:39 PM
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