Dane Barbados Jr. Remembers: University pt.7 (pt.2)
At St.Mary's they have this annual weekend programme called "World Carnival" where they have carnival food, those large air-filled chambers that I belive you people refer to as the "moon bounce" and showcase (usually) shitty local bands.
World Carnival was an interesting thing, it introduced me to many parts of your American culture that I had not been accustomed to. For example Dane Barbados Jr., for the first time, ate a confectionary called "sweet potato fries" which had the approximate taste and texture of old shoe-leather, wrapped in burlap, soaked in tobacco spit and sprayed with radioactive orange dye.
Whilst I was walking back towards the bleachers, contorting my face into odd shapes and fighting the gag reflex brought on by the "fries" when I spotted Juliette. She beckoned me over. As soon as I sat down another band started playing. They were the "Kelly Bell Band" and played a form of music known as "blues." This "blues" did not exist in the homeland of one Dane Barbados Jr. and I was truly taken aback by how much I was enjoying it. Juliette also seemed to be quite the fan.
She took the soggy, leaden, trough of fries from my hand, threw them forcefully into the face of an overweight, passing, freshman, and drug yours truly into the grassy courtyard where she immediately proceeded to press her mismatched breasts against my sternum, trail her long-nailed fingers down my back and thrust her pelvis into my crotch whilst lifting her short skirt sligtly to reveal her untrimmed güterminaböxefrüden. After a few seconds of this I realized that this was her way of dancing. I was amazed.
After a rousing performance of Kelly Bell's song "Homegrown" Juliette was visibly aroused. Her erect, pink, braless nipples were poking through her sheer, white, dress shirt. And spots of red were showing high on her cheeks in sharp contrast to her pale alabaster complextion.
Without warning she grabbed the manicured hand of Barbados and thrust it under the plaid hemline of her pleated skirt, pressing it against her güchenväj (gutterloaf for you Americans...or perhaps stench blossom) and leaving me with a surprising palmful of sweet, fragrant, moonflower medicine, which she proceeded to lap from my cupped palm and fingertips like a well trained kitten.
For perhaps the first time in the life of Barbados he was stunned.
I hefted her 85lb, featherweight, frame upon my shoulder and strode back towards my room at Dorchester Hall.
I opened my door with a swift, piledriver kick, with Juliette still draped over my shoulder. My pierced and determined brown eyes stared with laserbeam intensity at my hairy, unkempt, roommate straddling his dumpy, frumpy, missle-titted, blond human mop-handle.
With supersonic speed I flicked my lit cigar butt squarely into the dungtick infested thatch of his scrotal hair, where it immediately caught like a small brush fire, sending up tendrils of black acrid smoke. Still over my shoulder, her bare ivory ass exposed, just laughed.
My roommate exited with utmost speed afterwhich his gullyscrumpet, spermbank of a girlfriend grabbed her skank-issue tattered and holed thongs and dingy, sweatstained white bra and escaped.
Like a triumphant Alpha Male I casually tossed Juliette onto my bed where in an Olympian feat of acrobatism she somehow unbuttoned and removed her shirt in mid air between my shoulder and my bed.
Now, in the interest of keeping my word that this bit of the internet would remain at least relatively worksafe I will not go into the details of our sordid encounter.
Sufficed to say that it lasted several hours, between us we went through a pack of sweet Camel Lights, a Portishead album, the Best of the Gap Band CD, seven condoms, three small tubes of KY brand lubricant, two pairs of handcuffs and several ice cubes.
It was bliss.
After the afterglow when in a rare display of post-coital respect and concern I told Juliette that I would walk her halfway to her dorm which was across campus. At the midway point, the school store, we bought a pack of coffin-nails to split where I had one of the most interesting conversations I've ever had with a female.
Now Juliette was one of the SMC theatre crowd. I think that every one of your learning institutions has these people, they even exist in my homeland.
They're all dark and act depressed, dress primarily and black and wear excessive eye makeup (both male and female). Love to court the Big White Nosemonster, trip out on "E" and have orgies. Oh and they tend to be 90% overweight and hideous.
Now at the University at which Dane Barbados Jr. attended, there were a fringe group of pseudo-hippies who were affiliated with the theatre. They loved Nature's Embrace. This group happened to be known by both your narrator and Juliette which lead to the conversation.
With little in the way of warning Juliette broke out with:
"So yeah, I blew 'Jack' once...he tasted terrible. He needs to wash more. I also blew 'Jason' once too...really, really small."
There was little Dane Barbados Jr. could do in the face of such frank and honest whorishness...
...other than to once again applaud my rule of never exchanging spittle under any circumstances.
I bid Juliette goodevening and knew that, in her, I had discovered the only female in all existence in perpetuity who was not only the sexual equal of Dane Barbados Jr., but also a match in wit, charm and fierce ego.
She and I had several more encounters over our stay at St.Mary's but that first left things changed forever. Never could I look at her as naught but a recepticle for my pearled and valued seed and never could I allow myself to be used as a walking manhammer for her satisfaction.
We knew that we were the perfect match for one another. But we also perfectly knew that to embrace such a base relationship would breed naught but hate, scorn and resentment.
The only time I've found the ability to respect a female that was not the Matron Barbados.
Do not expect such tender memories from Dane Barbados Jr. in the future.
You have been made aware.
World Carnival was an interesting thing, it introduced me to many parts of your American culture that I had not been accustomed to. For example Dane Barbados Jr., for the first time, ate a confectionary called "sweet potato fries" which had the approximate taste and texture of old shoe-leather, wrapped in burlap, soaked in tobacco spit and sprayed with radioactive orange dye.
Whilst I was walking back towards the bleachers, contorting my face into odd shapes and fighting the gag reflex brought on by the "fries" when I spotted Juliette. She beckoned me over. As soon as I sat down another band started playing. They were the "Kelly Bell Band" and played a form of music known as "blues." This "blues" did not exist in the homeland of one Dane Barbados Jr. and I was truly taken aback by how much I was enjoying it. Juliette also seemed to be quite the fan.
She took the soggy, leaden, trough of fries from my hand, threw them forcefully into the face of an overweight, passing, freshman, and drug yours truly into the grassy courtyard where she immediately proceeded to press her mismatched breasts against my sternum, trail her long-nailed fingers down my back and thrust her pelvis into my crotch whilst lifting her short skirt sligtly to reveal her untrimmed güterminaböxefrüden. After a few seconds of this I realized that this was her way of dancing. I was amazed.
After a rousing performance of Kelly Bell's song "Homegrown" Juliette was visibly aroused. Her erect, pink, braless nipples were poking through her sheer, white, dress shirt. And spots of red were showing high on her cheeks in sharp contrast to her pale alabaster complextion.
Without warning she grabbed the manicured hand of Barbados and thrust it under the plaid hemline of her pleated skirt, pressing it against her güchenväj (gutterloaf for you Americans...or perhaps stench blossom) and leaving me with a surprising palmful of sweet, fragrant, moonflower medicine, which she proceeded to lap from my cupped palm and fingertips like a well trained kitten.
For perhaps the first time in the life of Barbados he was stunned.
I hefted her 85lb, featherweight, frame upon my shoulder and strode back towards my room at Dorchester Hall.
I opened my door with a swift, piledriver kick, with Juliette still draped over my shoulder. My pierced and determined brown eyes stared with laserbeam intensity at my hairy, unkempt, roommate straddling his dumpy, frumpy, missle-titted, blond human mop-handle.
With supersonic speed I flicked my lit cigar butt squarely into the dungtick infested thatch of his scrotal hair, where it immediately caught like a small brush fire, sending up tendrils of black acrid smoke. Still over my shoulder, her bare ivory ass exposed, just laughed.
My roommate exited with utmost speed afterwhich his gullyscrumpet, spermbank of a girlfriend grabbed her skank-issue tattered and holed thongs and dingy, sweatstained white bra and escaped.
Like a triumphant Alpha Male I casually tossed Juliette onto my bed where in an Olympian feat of acrobatism she somehow unbuttoned and removed her shirt in mid air between my shoulder and my bed.
Now, in the interest of keeping my word that this bit of the internet would remain at least relatively worksafe I will not go into the details of our sordid encounter.
Sufficed to say that it lasted several hours, between us we went through a pack of sweet Camel Lights, a Portishead album, the Best of the Gap Band CD, seven condoms, three small tubes of KY brand lubricant, two pairs of handcuffs and several ice cubes.
It was bliss.
After the afterglow when in a rare display of post-coital respect and concern I told Juliette that I would walk her halfway to her dorm which was across campus. At the midway point, the school store, we bought a pack of coffin-nails to split where I had one of the most interesting conversations I've ever had with a female.
Now Juliette was one of the SMC theatre crowd. I think that every one of your learning institutions has these people, they even exist in my homeland.
They're all dark and act depressed, dress primarily and black and wear excessive eye makeup (both male and female). Love to court the Big White Nosemonster, trip out on "E" and have orgies. Oh and they tend to be 90% overweight and hideous.
Now at the University at which Dane Barbados Jr. attended, there were a fringe group of pseudo-hippies who were affiliated with the theatre. They loved Nature's Embrace. This group happened to be known by both your narrator and Juliette which lead to the conversation.
With little in the way of warning Juliette broke out with:
"So yeah, I blew 'Jack' once...he tasted terrible. He needs to wash more. I also blew 'Jason' once too...really, really small."
There was little Dane Barbados Jr. could do in the face of such frank and honest whorishness...
...other than to once again applaud my rule of never exchanging spittle under any circumstances.
I bid Juliette goodevening and knew that, in her, I had discovered the only female in all existence in perpetuity who was not only the sexual equal of Dane Barbados Jr., but also a match in wit, charm and fierce ego.
She and I had several more encounters over our stay at St.Mary's but that first left things changed forever. Never could I look at her as naught but a recepticle for my pearled and valued seed and never could I allow myself to be used as a walking manhammer for her satisfaction.
We knew that we were the perfect match for one another. But we also perfectly knew that to embrace such a base relationship would breed naught but hate, scorn and resentment.
The only time I've found the ability to respect a female that was not the Matron Barbados.
Do not expect such tender memories from Dane Barbados Jr. in the future.
You have been made aware.
posted by Dane Barbados Jr. at 5:37 PM
2 Comments:
Since you mentioned makeup, I just wanted to point something out. To the ladies: applying excessive makeup is one of the most distasteful, unattractive things a woman can do. I've written an article on this in my blog. Check it out.
You speak in broad generalities. If such were true for all women there would not be so many women doing such.
Furthermore amongst the goth set excessive makup is naught but the norm.
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