63 lines
3.5 KiB
Plaintext
63 lines
3.5 KiB
Plaintext
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>From fln2jes@cabell.vcu.edu Mon Jul 19 12:23:43 1993
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Date: Mon, 19 Jul 93 12:21:19 EDT
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Subject: blueball #666
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You've just walked out of everyone's favorite convenience store,
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sleepy-head, with thoughts of some of your old bitches on your mind. You had
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heard the rumors purported by your friend john on the mystical and
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hallucinatory effects of mixing chile picante con limon cornuts with blue
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nehi cream soda, and had decided to try for yourself. The vatican was
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performing tonight and the Holy Ghost had gotten you backstage passes. Two
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to be precise, one for you and one for your cutie. You get on the horn nad
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call up OGF (the cornuts are kicking like mad by now) and she accepts the
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offer to see Williamsburgs best techno/industrial band. You get to the show
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just as the Final Masquerade is finishing their set. OGF rubs accidentally
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against your arm with her perky, firm left breast sending chills down your
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nehi-numbed spine. The vatican busts wildly into their first tune, the
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omnipresent "Cream and Satan," a chilling commentary on life in the
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third-world countries of central america. OGF goes wild at this point,
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lifting her arms and dancing in typical techno-slut style. The strobe lights
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are throbbing in perfect time with the blood in your now-engorged member.
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OGF winks sweetly as she peels off her Bruton High letter jacket, revealing
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her lace encased boobs bouncing in time with "Town and Color." Oh, heavan
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and bliss you think as OGF kisses you while the two of you stand in line to
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receive the traditional communion offered at all Vatican shows. You see his
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noble holiness Pater Jonas offer your squeeze a hearty helping of Colt 45
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pie, the Vatican interpretation of the body of Christ. OGF being the good
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little catholic she is doesn't even bat an eye as she goes back and receives
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communion another three times. Of course each time she gets a hearty swig of
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the blood of Jesus (DR. Pecker spiked with magnum). Ahhhh yeahhhhh, croons
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Filius Chappius as OGF pushes you to the corner, to a table, and finally
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pulls out your little man. She bobs in time to The Holy Ghost pounding out
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the rythm on the immense blue barrel. Incontent with oral sex, OGF decides
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to give you a real treat. Off comes the lace bra. She then proceeds to
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squeeze her milky white breasts around your quivering not-so-little man. As
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your saliva covered pecker pokes his head in and out of her cleavage a sound
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suddenly strikes you back to reality. A car horn is blaring and two rednecks
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are getting out of their truck to beat your ass. The last thing you see is
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the pavenment of jamestown road under your face as the attendant sleeps on
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peacefully.
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%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%well, i guess this is good-bye...
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john swart, one-half of mahn swoss, super- genius,
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lover of hyphens, destroyer of galaxies
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sweethart bent on
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destruction
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a lovable yet disturbed guy, oh well...
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xxx xxx
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x x x x
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x xx x
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x x
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x hate x
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x x
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x x
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x x
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xx
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