i need fire ladders to get out of this rut
"It's like music to my butt," she said calmly as Ronaldo continued his euphonic moaning and kitten-wrestling. It was their first damn date and bliss was everywhere, creamed on the walls like blood and paint and suds. Sheila always felt this good, what with the vials of crack emptied hourly into her structure via smoke and gnawing, but it was the first time she had felt it with a Latin man. And she had never imagined that it would involve kittens.
Sure the kittens were dead, rotten, filthy and less dainty than a blind old man attempting to remove a training bra from his meatless, teatless body. Dam, tho, it was a crazy sensual pleasure to live out the dream of so many ratpeople cursed to a lonely sewer existence. She thought once... twice... and decided, "No! I will not stab! Life is precious and I will not take the life of this Latin moan-machine."
He had other ideas.
posted by blossom snakesworthy @ 11:03 AM
4 comments
4 Comments:
This story reminded me of a kid's church song we used to sing. "Deeeeeep and Wiiiide, Deeeeep and Wiiiide, there's a fountain flowing deep and wiiide."
I don't know why this is. Something about "bliss creaming the walls,' or the like made me think of it.
"Deeeeeep and Wiiiiiiide" huh? Every time I sing that to children, they run to their mommies.
Oh, Blossom, your implications are completely off the track here...although when you sing it to me, I also flee in terror.
That's only because I use my unholy voice of 10000 sinning demons being torn asunder when I sing to you. It's a trick Clay Aiken taught me after our bath.
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