Hobo Jungle
Re: Hobo Jungle
Why is national news so obsessed with celebrity deaths? I didn't die, but my ex-wife was a witch and she turned me into a newt. It didn't make local news.
Running that red block Charlie.
Re: Hobo Jungle
Jon,
Your present wife changed you back into your original lovable self and that didn't make news either.
Your present wife changed you back into your original lovable self and that didn't make news either.
roger
I support thread drift.
If God didn't want women to be looked at, He would have made 'em ugly. RAH
I support thread drift.
If God didn't want women to be looked at, He would have made 'em ugly. RAH
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Rufus T. Firefly
- Posts: 42112
- Joined: Wed May 16, 2007 7:52 am
- Location: To be Determined
Re: Hobo Jungle
2railjon wrote:Why is national news so obsessed with celebrity deaths? I didn't die, but my ex-wife was a witch and she turned me into a newt. It didn't make local news.
That's because you got better....
Once, men turned their thinking over to machines in the hopes that this would set them free. But that only permitted other men with machines to enslave them.
Re: Hobo Jungle
Bingo! May you all have a glorious 2017! And may you, Jon, have an even better one. CHEERS!
That a life will be spent gaining inches,
When this distance is read in miles.
When this distance is read in miles.
Re: Hobo Jungle
yup, have a good New Year everyone...2017 should be a wild one...
Tramp, hope you have power after the big storm!
Healey
Tramp, hope you have power after the big storm!
Healey
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MurphOnMillerAve
- Posts: 18489
- Joined: Fri Jul 18, 2008 10:18 pm
- Location: Kennywood Park
- Contact:
Re: Hobo Jungle
HappyNew Year, all!! Each and every one of you.
And...
In vino veritas.
And...
In vino veritas.
Re: Hobo Jungle
That could be an interesting way to get laid.
roger
I support thread drift.
If God didn't want women to be looked at, He would have made 'em ugly. RAH
I support thread drift.
If God didn't want women to be looked at, He would have made 'em ugly. RAH
-
MurphOnMillerAve
- Posts: 18489
- Joined: Fri Jul 18, 2008 10:18 pm
- Location: Kennywood Park
- Contact:
Re: Hobo Jungle
Wolf wrote:Is that really how Hugh Hefner got his start?
I think he got started by having a strong interest in bunnies and cute li'l cotton-tails.
Re: Hobo Jungle
Alex wasn’t sure why he chose a female oral surgeon to extract his impacted wisdom teeth. He supposed he preferred a delicate female touch over some clumsy arrogant guy yanking on his tender jaw, sticking fingers into his sleeping mouth. He hadn’t been in the Los Angeles Valley long, had no one but a few coworkers to ask, so he simply chose a name out of the yellow pages instead of off the computer. They were older yellow pages, so he figured if she still existed, all the better.
The office wasn’t fancy, but it was nice enough. The dentist turned out to be Mexican as well as very female. Although her face was too mannish for his tastes, almost Aztec looking, and her lips were way too large, almost frightening, she had the most remarkable chest he had ever seen supported by just as remarkable a waist and slim hips, all this fitted into barely five feet of brown skin sheeted in the spotless white coat. Such a contrast to his girlfriend Celia who was blonde, overly frail and lanky. But he loved Celia, if only he could cure her tentative nervousness in bed. She would try anything, but in such a worried fussy way that it killed all his desire. He was basically impotent with Celia now, and he supposed neither of them overly minded that. He had been through enough relationship torment in his forty years to be eager to welcome simple peace and true companionship. Celia really loved him, they got along smoothly and consistently, so the sex hardly mattered.
The Mexican dentist, Doctor Cortez, was professional to the point of iciness and scheduled him for a week from the day, which suited him fine. He just wanted his painful teeth out and had never been a huge fan of large tits anyway, most losing their shape after being unbound. Or they were fake, which he detested—the idea of holding and kissing two plastic bags of goo horrified him. He explained to the doctor his severe issues with needles, and she nodded, but said nothing, which worried him. He was going to go over it again, but didn’t want to appear unmanly, so he simply left the office. One negative to having a female doctor.
When he came in that Thursday, she seemed even more dour and cold, asking him to take off his shirt, lie on the hospital-style bed and uncross his legs. She covered him with a light blanket, diverted his attention by pointing to something on the wall, a certificate of a college he’d never heard of, and he felt a tiny *****, very unlike the needle used for anesthesia, which he knew all to well. “What was that?” he said.
“What was what?” She spoken English with only a vague Mexican accent, and he wondered where she had been born.
When he woke up, he stared into her huge brown eyes. “So, what was that?” he said again.
“It’s over. Your teeth are gone. One was severely impacted, but I halved it and it came out easily enough.”
“It’s over?” He was stunned. “I want to kiss you!” He was elated. In the past, anesthesia was always a horrible ordeal. He always passed out when the needle finally found and pierced his vein, then he would have to be revived since no one can operate on an unconscious person, then he would pour sweat and vomit and have to go through the procedure again. No nurse or doctor had ever easily found a vein, in his wrist or arm. His twenty-two operations as a child had ruined him, and he couldn’t control his fear.
“I gave you a quick ***** of topical Novocain, so you wouldn’t feel the larger needle.”
“My God. Thank you.” And he did suddenly want to kiss her. “How smart. Why did no one else ever think of that?” He had long ago learned to avert his eyes, but the feeling of the puncture still set him off.
“You won’t remember this conversation, but thanks for saying so. Rest a bit and I’ll be back momentarily.”
“I’ll remember.” He felt sure that he would.
When he got home, loaded with Vicodin, antibiotics, and a plastic irrigator, he discovered the strangest thing. He had somehow come in his pants. His briefs were full of dried and slightly damp sperm. He could tell by the smell. It seemed inexplicable. And his penis felt a bit sore in a lovely relaxed way. He hadn’t come in about a month. Had he ejaculated during the procedure? When else?
Two weeks later, when the doctor examined him on their last visit together, and he paid her secretary the very reasonable bill of just under $600, he was almost out the doors when he turned back. “Can I see the doctor again,” he said.
She took him into the tiny consulting room and sat down, her breasts were slicking out so far and attractively that he felt an overriding tingling in his center, suddenly worried he was getting erect.
“Something odd happened to me during the operation,” he said.
“Yes? What?” Her huge brown eyes seemed so understanding, as if he could share anything with her and she would accept or forgive him. The Aztec sensibility seemed real and he wondered if she was related to a distant goddess or something. Her manner carried that weight, as petite and token unfriendly as she was.
“Is it normal or even possible to become excited under anesthesia?”
“What do you mean by excited?”
“Aroused?”
“Do you mean sexually?”
He nodded.
“Highly unlikely.” She was searching him very intently, much more intently than what the situation warranted.
“But when I got home, I realized I had definitely ejaculated.”
“You definitely did.” She smiled now.
“What are you saying? You noticed? Good god, I’m so sorry.” He was completely flustered and realized he was getting erect, mightily erect, the head past the belt of his jeans He tried to stand differently so she wouldn’t notice, but the room was too small and her eyes were at crotch level.
“You have a lovely penis,” she said. “Perfect.”
“You saw it?” He was more stunned.
“I noticed your bulge in your jeans the first day. I suppose since I’m abnormal, overly endowed, I notice it in others.”
“My God.” Again he so wished for a chair. He could feel himself leaking now, his penis a dripping faucet every time it got hard. He was concerned it would show momentarily as a damp spot. He kept his eyes off her breasts with difficulty.
“It must be painful like that. Are you married?”
“I have a girlfriend I love. She loves me.”
“Of course,” she said. “Listen . . . I’d like to ask you for a favor. Will you let me take you out for dinner?”
“Dinner?” He felt as if he were going to pass out. This was all so strange. If he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he could smell her arousal. He didn’t dare glance at her nipples.
“I’d like to explain things. What happened. I must see another patient now, but I owe you at least a dinner and an explanation. Do you like Mexican food?” Who didn’t?
She called him a few days later and they set up a time and a place. He didn’t tell Celia the truth—not sure why—but explained he would have to work late that night, which was not unusual. He designed heating and cooling systems for high-end restaurants around Los Angeles and with all the codes and unions and other issues, the job required very long hours. She had told him to meet her at the Ventura Airport and they would set out from there. He would be able to find her by her car—a medium blue 356 Porsche.
The car was lovely, and for the first time he was embarrassed by his Ford pickup. Next to the Porsche was a small two engine jet. He didn’t know the airport could even handle jets, but there it was.
“After I extracted your teeth, I kept staring at your crotch. I’m so embarrassed by this, but I suppose I need to tell you to release the guilt I’ve been carrying.”
“Did you do this before? With others?”
She was startled. “Of course not. My God, I’m not crazy. Do you think I’m that silly? I would lose everything! Why would . . .” She glanced out the window of the jet, almost silent, so stable, she insisting that it basically flew inself.
“I unbutton your jeans. It was as if I was in a dream, compelled in a way that I never been. And there it was, your flac-cid penis, way smaller than I had imagined, but very cute. I suppose that’s the wrong word. I held it for a moment, feeling unusually dizzy and a bit disappointed.
“And then it began to grow in my hand.” Now her eyes began to look crazy, no matter what she had just said. “And it began to grow and grow and grow. It was crazy! Like it read my mind! It maybe quadrupled in size. I never think such a thing can be possible, but there it is, so thick and smooth and so lovely, a huge tear of sap forming at the head and then very slowly, like a crazy snail, sliding down the shaft and onto my hand. I lick it, mesmerized by what seem impossible.” She wasn’t even with him, and he had no idea what to do. He was in a ****** jet, headed for Mexico for dinner, with an insane woman whose father was probably a drug lord. And there was no excape, was there?
The office wasn’t fancy, but it was nice enough. The dentist turned out to be Mexican as well as very female. Although her face was too mannish for his tastes, almost Aztec looking, and her lips were way too large, almost frightening, she had the most remarkable chest he had ever seen supported by just as remarkable a waist and slim hips, all this fitted into barely five feet of brown skin sheeted in the spotless white coat. Such a contrast to his girlfriend Celia who was blonde, overly frail and lanky. But he loved Celia, if only he could cure her tentative nervousness in bed. She would try anything, but in such a worried fussy way that it killed all his desire. He was basically impotent with Celia now, and he supposed neither of them overly minded that. He had been through enough relationship torment in his forty years to be eager to welcome simple peace and true companionship. Celia really loved him, they got along smoothly and consistently, so the sex hardly mattered.
The Mexican dentist, Doctor Cortez, was professional to the point of iciness and scheduled him for a week from the day, which suited him fine. He just wanted his painful teeth out and had never been a huge fan of large tits anyway, most losing their shape after being unbound. Or they were fake, which he detested—the idea of holding and kissing two plastic bags of goo horrified him. He explained to the doctor his severe issues with needles, and she nodded, but said nothing, which worried him. He was going to go over it again, but didn’t want to appear unmanly, so he simply left the office. One negative to having a female doctor.
When he came in that Thursday, she seemed even more dour and cold, asking him to take off his shirt, lie on the hospital-style bed and uncross his legs. She covered him with a light blanket, diverted his attention by pointing to something on the wall, a certificate of a college he’d never heard of, and he felt a tiny *****, very unlike the needle used for anesthesia, which he knew all to well. “What was that?” he said.
“What was what?” She spoken English with only a vague Mexican accent, and he wondered where she had been born.
When he woke up, he stared into her huge brown eyes. “So, what was that?” he said again.
“It’s over. Your teeth are gone. One was severely impacted, but I halved it and it came out easily enough.”
“It’s over?” He was stunned. “I want to kiss you!” He was elated. In the past, anesthesia was always a horrible ordeal. He always passed out when the needle finally found and pierced his vein, then he would have to be revived since no one can operate on an unconscious person, then he would pour sweat and vomit and have to go through the procedure again. No nurse or doctor had ever easily found a vein, in his wrist or arm. His twenty-two operations as a child had ruined him, and he couldn’t control his fear.
“I gave you a quick ***** of topical Novocain, so you wouldn’t feel the larger needle.”
“My God. Thank you.” And he did suddenly want to kiss her. “How smart. Why did no one else ever think of that?” He had long ago learned to avert his eyes, but the feeling of the puncture still set him off.
“You won’t remember this conversation, but thanks for saying so. Rest a bit and I’ll be back momentarily.”
“I’ll remember.” He felt sure that he would.
When he got home, loaded with Vicodin, antibiotics, and a plastic irrigator, he discovered the strangest thing. He had somehow come in his pants. His briefs were full of dried and slightly damp sperm. He could tell by the smell. It seemed inexplicable. And his penis felt a bit sore in a lovely relaxed way. He hadn’t come in about a month. Had he ejaculated during the procedure? When else?
Two weeks later, when the doctor examined him on their last visit together, and he paid her secretary the very reasonable bill of just under $600, he was almost out the doors when he turned back. “Can I see the doctor again,” he said.
She took him into the tiny consulting room and sat down, her breasts were slicking out so far and attractively that he felt an overriding tingling in his center, suddenly worried he was getting erect.
“Something odd happened to me during the operation,” he said.
“Yes? What?” Her huge brown eyes seemed so understanding, as if he could share anything with her and she would accept or forgive him. The Aztec sensibility seemed real and he wondered if she was related to a distant goddess or something. Her manner carried that weight, as petite and token unfriendly as she was.
“Is it normal or even possible to become excited under anesthesia?”
“What do you mean by excited?”
“Aroused?”
“Do you mean sexually?”
He nodded.
“Highly unlikely.” She was searching him very intently, much more intently than what the situation warranted.
“But when I got home, I realized I had definitely ejaculated.”
“You definitely did.” She smiled now.
“What are you saying? You noticed? Good god, I’m so sorry.” He was completely flustered and realized he was getting erect, mightily erect, the head past the belt of his jeans He tried to stand differently so she wouldn’t notice, but the room was too small and her eyes were at crotch level.
“You have a lovely penis,” she said. “Perfect.”
“You saw it?” He was more stunned.
“I noticed your bulge in your jeans the first day. I suppose since I’m abnormal, overly endowed, I notice it in others.”
“My God.” Again he so wished for a chair. He could feel himself leaking now, his penis a dripping faucet every time it got hard. He was concerned it would show momentarily as a damp spot. He kept his eyes off her breasts with difficulty.
“It must be painful like that. Are you married?”
“I have a girlfriend I love. She loves me.”
“Of course,” she said. “Listen . . . I’d like to ask you for a favor. Will you let me take you out for dinner?”
“Dinner?” He felt as if he were going to pass out. This was all so strange. If he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he could smell her arousal. He didn’t dare glance at her nipples.
“I’d like to explain things. What happened. I must see another patient now, but I owe you at least a dinner and an explanation. Do you like Mexican food?” Who didn’t?
She called him a few days later and they set up a time and a place. He didn’t tell Celia the truth—not sure why—but explained he would have to work late that night, which was not unusual. He designed heating and cooling systems for high-end restaurants around Los Angeles and with all the codes and unions and other issues, the job required very long hours. She had told him to meet her at the Ventura Airport and they would set out from there. He would be able to find her by her car—a medium blue 356 Porsche.
The car was lovely, and for the first time he was embarrassed by his Ford pickup. Next to the Porsche was a small two engine jet. He didn’t know the airport could even handle jets, but there it was.
“After I extracted your teeth, I kept staring at your crotch. I’m so embarrassed by this, but I suppose I need to tell you to release the guilt I’ve been carrying.”
“Did you do this before? With others?”
She was startled. “Of course not. My God, I’m not crazy. Do you think I’m that silly? I would lose everything! Why would . . .” She glanced out the window of the jet, almost silent, so stable, she insisting that it basically flew inself.
“I unbutton your jeans. It was as if I was in a dream, compelled in a way that I never been. And there it was, your flac-cid penis, way smaller than I had imagined, but very cute. I suppose that’s the wrong word. I held it for a moment, feeling unusually dizzy and a bit disappointed.
“And then it began to grow in my hand.” Now her eyes began to look crazy, no matter what she had just said. “And it began to grow and grow and grow. It was crazy! Like it read my mind! It maybe quadrupled in size. I never think such a thing can be possible, but there it is, so thick and smooth and so lovely, a huge tear of sap forming at the head and then very slowly, like a crazy snail, sliding down the shaft and onto my hand. I lick it, mesmerized by what seem impossible.” She wasn’t even with him, and he had no idea what to do. He was in a ****** jet, headed for Mexico for dinner, with an insane woman whose father was probably a drug lord. And there was no excape, was there?
That a life will be spent gaining inches,
When this distance is read in miles.
When this distance is read in miles.
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