Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

“Wow, how did I get three balls instead of two??”

Well, hey, Tinkerbell, light of my loins.  Let’s do some clapping to help you rise again!

His wonderous shaft of light…or possibly his flaming sword of lurve?

His detachable penis?

His downstairs mixup?

View here

“He swore if I used it every day, it would work!  Damn that Billy Mays and the seductive lure of the Mighty Putty. “

Why is there a roach
Crawling up my manly thigh?
Please don’t touch my dick.

“Captain Maglite’s power may have been unusual, but it sure came in handy* for finding his keys.”

*hur, hur

Damn.
Indelible lipstick.

My demonic cock
Rampant in the fire light
Hell-raiser indeed.

In the rare case an erection lasts for more than four hours, seek immediate medical attention.

Uhm… 9-1-1? I need a nurse…Yes. This is an emergency.

Act 1 Scene 1

He doth see his “Torche” burn bright
Two pearls hang on the back of the light
Like rich jewels in an Ethiope’s ear
For mine eyes the feast is too dear!

Meaning no disrespect to “Will”….

Naked…check.

Towel to act as heat catcher….check

All over body grease….okay, got that one done. Sure was hard to reach between my manly shoulderblades with the Johnsons.

Heat source from fire. Got that.

Dammit. That email said that if I did all this it’d get BIGGER. It’s not BIGGER. I wanted to achieve manly girth enhancement!

Fuck. Crabs again.

Why did she laugh? I don’t see anything wrong….......

*waking naked on a towel in front of the fire in a strange cabin with a ribbon tied about his manly bits*  “Well I don’t know where you’ve been lad, but I can see you’ve won first prize.”

Huh. When did I get one of those?

****

Stupid damn scratchy towels! My poor Pwecious!

This definitely calls for more cowbell.

Walk softly and carry a big ...

Damn.  I wish my neck was longer.

“Huh - looky there. It does list to the right.”

“The porn director told me to come up with a stage name before we start filming.  I like the name Chuck Cockalot, or how about Ben McMightySack?  Or Mitch Meaty?  Oh, or Chief Big Hard Rod!”

Pamela Anderson!

“I wonder if these stitches are infected? Damn that bitch for stabbing me anyway. When will I learn not to go around sleeping with the enemy?”

“In retrospect, that Barry Manilow tattoo was a bad idea.”

“Hey baby, think the fire needs more….............wood?”

Operator: Customer Service, how may I help you?
Big, Buff, and Butch: What the hell did you do to me?!
Operator:  Please explain the nature of your complaint. *sounds of bubble gum popping*
Big, Buff, and Butch:  I saw your email advertisement and I bought it!  When the pills came, I took them as directed!
Operator: Uh-huh.
Big, Buff, and Butch: And now… I have a tiny cock sticking out of my hip!
Operator: Uh-huh.  So what’s the problem, sir?
Big, Buff, and Butch: ...
...
Besides the tiny cock sticking out of my hip?
Operator: Sir, when you say “tiny,” how small is it?
Big, Buff, and Butch: I don’t know.  I didn’t measure it.
Operator: Would you please do so now, sir.  I’ll be happy to hold.

Minutes later…

Big, Buff, and Butch: *sound of horror dawning* It’s… three inches.
Operator: *chipper* Another satisfied customer, then.  Have a good day, sir!

“Damn, I’m good!”

Egyptian cotton.  I specifically requested Egyptian cotton towels.  I’ll never get dry with this thing, guess I’ll have to sit by the fire.

“Well, what do you know,” He thought to himself, “that mole does kind of look like Pinhead.  I knew I shouldn’t have stuck my d*¢k in that box.”

The tag line says it all: “Sleeping with the enemy.”  He’s obviously contemplating a sex change.

a piece of black lint he spotted on his oh so white towel. He’s holding the towel out because he doesn’t want his the lint to stick onto his wet, hard thighs

Ooops!

He is a self exam man.

‘Xactly!  He’s about to perform his monthly testicular self-exam.  And his nurse is just off-cover, ready to help him with her mouth.

It can’t be that difficult. The big end goes over the ... no, the little end fits around ... wait, it was left to right, then right to left, yes?

*****

I knew it. The sun doesn’t shine out of my ass, it shoots out my dick and, hey, I’ve made fire!

Nothing. He’s looking at nothing at all. :)

*Taking in the small unicorn now tattooed so it’s horn is well…expandable* “Maybe it doesn’t look that bad…right?  Damn it, I’m going to kill Eddie for talking me into this, just as soon as the power comes back on.”

“Who the hell is Lulabelle and why is her name tattooed on my dick?”

“Hey, there’s something to this watermelon stuff.  Rock on!”

“Okay, I recited the sacred chant and anointed myself with coconut oil, but how exactly does putting my left ball in, taking my left ball out, and doing the Hokey Pokey and shaking it all about raise a demon?”

“Ve haf vays of making you talk.”

“Gratuitous animal tattoo. Freakishly chiseled muscles. AND a monstrously huge dick. Damn I’m in yet another paranormal!”

Where is my butt?  Did it switch around to the front?

Say hello to my little friend.

Ah, come on…this isn’t a contest.  The answer’s right across his butt.

He’s looking at “the enemy.”

He’s frowning at a stain in the towel and thinking, “Didn’t they say this spray on tan would come off?”

Truth in advertising, indeed :wink:

“I really should have that third nipple removed.”

Jason studied his purple-tipped manhood carefully and tried not to think about the earlier humiliating encounter.

I don’t know what she’s thinking. He couldn’t stop hearing Josie’s scornful words.

“Oh my.” On her knees, she’d given him the same concerned look the mechanic often used right before explaining the doo-dad whatzimatoozy would need to be replaced. The look he’d gotten from the electrician who’d told him to replace the wiring in his Victorian-era cottage or else prepared to be roasted alive.

She looked at his groin again, moved closer. Squinted like a near-sighted girl who’d lost her glasses and was trying to read the newspaper.

Finally she shrugged. “Well, I’ll do what I can with this, but it’s gonna cost you more. And I don’t guarantee results. Vienna sausages like this little guy are usually more trouble than their worth.”

With a shake of his head, Jason pulled himself back to the present.
Things hadn’t worked quite the way he’d envisioned, but it was fine. Really. Just the right size.

“I told you, Mini-me, they’d never see you inside the towel…”

Okay…woke up in a cabin, naked and wrapped in a towel, by a roaring fire, with some weird-ass tattoo…Mistress Heather! First time’s funny, third time’s just f—ing annoying!

“Shrinkage is a bitch!”

Sleeping with the enemy

Waking up with the crabs.

Damn that diabolical enemy!

It’s so big I can use it as a spit. Don’t worry, I won’t show you until you’re really ready for it.

“Look into my Eye, That’s right, you want to sleep…you are feeling your control slip…”
“Round….and round….sleepy… so very sleepy…. “

“That’s right… Soon I shall possess all of you…. Muhahaha.. “

You know buddy, we’d be having way more fun if that hot chick who can’t be trusted was here.

“Hello, old friend.  Looks like it’s just you and me… again.”

Umm, is it left over right, and under?  Or right over left, and over?

He’s looking down at the heroine, a photographer for Dicks of the Month magazine, who’s taking close-up shots and saying, “This is my best side.”

I couldn’t resist, it just popped into my head…

~~

As he started to take off his towel, he looked shyly away from the mirror above the hearth and stopped, breaking their eye contact.  All she could see was the top of his head, the tension rippling through his shoulder muscles. His winged tattoo seemed to take flight as they moved, and she gulped. Nice. Very nice.

“Before I do this, I need to tell yo…”

“Just strip.” She snapped playfully. “You lost that last hand, fly-boy, not me.”

He sighed, looked back over his shoulder, then down to his privates again. She wondered just what he was worried about. A scar? An ugly birthmark? A thought crossed through her mind that perhaps he was really a hermaphrodite, and she stifled a giggle.

“It’s not funny.” He remarked. ” Seriously…”

“What are you looking at?” She asked, as he stood, open to the fire, obviously debating on whether the game had gone too far. She cleared her throat and he sighed, the towel pooled around his thighs, each hand crinkling the edge. It took him a few moments, but he finally spoke.

“Well, you see, there was this training mission a few years back, and, well… my plane crash landed in the desert. We were off track and lost. Some hunters from a Bedouin tribe found us, and they nursed our injuries back to health before they took us to a nearby town to return to the squadron. In that time, well… err… they have certain customs.”

“What kind of customs?” She queried, more curious by the second, holding back the urge to yank the towel away from his perfectly formed ass-cheeks. A piercing? Perhaps a brand.

This was torture.

“Uhh, well… You know, like those blue turbans they wear.”

She nodded. She’d seen them. They dyed the skin of the men who wore the cloth across their noses a deep blue, sometimes their hands were dyed as well. Suddenly, it dawned on her.

“You mean to tell me your…”

“Yeah, apparently that is a custom too, supposed to be an ancient charm to heal…” He said quietly, and turned around, finally letting the towel fall.

~~

“If I rub it , will it grow?”

Fire-demons give the best blowjobs. It was fantastic to have that rumor confirmed. It was worth it, he supposed, but the burn marks were just unsightly.

Oh shit. My herpes is showing again.

*sigh*

Why the hell did I sleep with my enemy?

Those Viagra commercials weren’t kidding about the 8-hour erection. Huh.

I knew I shouldn’t have slept with her, I wonder if the fire will kill the crabs.

“Watch the teeth this time, okay?”

“Has anyone seen the fluffer?”

‘They always say the best things come in the smallest packages, don’t they?’

“Well I don’t know where you’ve been lad, but I can see you’ve won first prize.”

Tsk, tsk . . . . stealing that line from a song, isn’t that grounds for . . . . . . something?

I am just saying . . . .

Yeah, it’s a slow day for me.

Bet she’ll be sorry she had me fixed when she thought I was merely a dog…

(Should be mentioned that the theme was bogarted from some horrible joke my father-in-law emailed me.)

James paused, a fleeting memory from his drunken week in San Francisco playing through his still hazy brain.

He remembered something about the hotel bar and three thousand women. The memory, a bubble rising in rapidly boiling water, surfaced.

He unwrapped the towel fearfully , his fears confirmed.  His firm flanks to his adonnis belt of desire had been signed. Scrolls of lovingly written names, suggestions, phone numbers and GPS locations for something called “The Pleasure Box” flowed over his rippling muscles.

“Well shit.” he muttered “Looks like I DID go to RWA this year”.

Who the f**k has towels that say “dry clean only?”

“Mom was right; from now on I’m using a stick to toast marshmallows!”

“I should look into having that growth removed…”

“Euuuh!  Why didn’t you didn’t tell me the cat was sick?”

Traitor.

Phil glared at his insubordinate member. Was it expecting too much to perform a simple drill? Hell, he wasn’t expecting it to rise up from the dead.  He just wanted his cock to stop falling asleep the minute he put on its little latex suit. But no, this private only stayed at attention when it was out of uniform. 

Well, if standing in front of a fire was the only way to stay hot, then by God that’s what he’d do.

Where did it go? I swear it was here a minute a go.

“Well I’m ever upper-class high society
God’s gift to ballroom notoriety
And I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say I’ve got
The biggest balls of all” . . .

His nice ripped set of 6-pack!

I’ll bite.  I’m guessing his third nipple has begun to migrate.

Voiceover:  “This package will self-destruct in five… four… three…”

OMG!!! Is that a gray hair!?

I wonder if only my hairdresser really will know for sure.

(Stand85 security word hahahaha)

Carpe Testes!

“Ferrets?  Again?!”

“Huh? I could have sworn I had something there earlier…”

‘Dammit! I thought I washed off that white discharge in the shower!’

____________________________________________________

‘Hmmm…these towels are very nice. Soft and fluffy, just like the saleslady said. I wonder if I can go into town wrapped in one…’

That wasn’t there yesterday. . .

*delurks*

“You’re still there?” he said, not particularly surprised.  “I thought for sure the shower would get rid of you.

The little fire demon nestled snugly in his privates just grinned smugly up at him.

“I am trying to ... entertain ... a lady,” he said stiffly.  “Do you know how hard it is to maintain the proper dignity of my manhood when I’m also having to explain to her why I appear to be on fire down there?”

“You’re part demon yourself,” the fireling shot back.

“So?”

“So it’s not exactly a *man*hood…”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, and went back to figuring out just how exactly he would explain things…

“Hell, raise it?  I can’t even find it!”

Wow! 100% cotton really does feel softest?

Man, I knew that Mickey Mouse tattoo was a bad idea

Johnson was the master smuggler, literally defending his manhood his manhood. Seriously, who would ever guess he was a Julia Roberts fan if they could never find where he always hid the flash drives with her downloaded classics?

Naked, alone, and warm in his lovely private cabin, he undid his towel and reached into his sachel of goodies that had been surgically enhanced at great expense so that it could also function as a literal sachel of goodies and withdrew the flashdrive.

“Time to watch my favourite - Sleeping With the Enemy.”
***
“My baloney has a first name, it’s O-S-C-A-R…..”

Lance looked down at the jagged line of dissolvable stitches that crossed his rippling abs and said to himself,
“Enemies we may be, but at least she only stole the one kidney.”

Ah! Correction to the first sentence: “Johnson was the master smuggler, literally defending his manhood WITH his manhood.”

“Um…I thought this thing was wash and wear?”

JennK- Are you in some kind of distress, cause that icon is the international symbol of distress. Or a big insult. One or the other. I’m just asking is all…

Ok, it’s still there. Just checking, you know.

Chest, Nuts roasting on an open fire…

and for you SNL fans:

No one can resist my Schweaty Balls

He is looking at his pigsticker and thinking…
“I love you,
You love me,
We’re a happy family,
with a great big hug,
and a kiss from me to you,
Won’t you say you love me TOO!”

What the-?  Is that a-?  Holy shit, I’m a DUDE?!

Beam me up Scottie, there really is no intelligence down here, from what I see.

Pay close attention boys and girls…I’m going to make an Elephant