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Sam1647545489

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Das Borgen Proficient

Das Borgen

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you know you need one

http://media.ebaumsworld.com/mediaFiles/picture/218923/81152872.jpg

 

 

http://media.ebaumsworld.com/mediaFiles/picture/218923/81152886.jpg

 

http://media.ebaumsworld.com/mediaFiles/picture/218923/81152888.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/Tz0m3.png

 

http://www.explosm.net/db/files/Comics/Kris/pizza.png

 

http://pics.kuvaton.com/kuvei/lots_of_love.jpghttp://asset.soup.io/asset/0407/3142_e10c.gif

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Not Brian Rookie

Not Brian

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I just don't get it. Seriously, I don't fucking get it. Why do people "rap" about getting monies and the brand of clothing they bought with money they got from selling weed? How do they, as human beings, think shit like that is important and makes them better than others? I could drunkenly rant for eternity about it.. especially when the shit's in German or whatever.

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Mopar Newbie

Mopar

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My X girlfriend has 2 problems. One is the fact that everytime she gets drunk she gets mean. She always looks for a fight, or a way to make me feel like shit. The other problem is that every morning after she gets drunk she has an explosive watery shit. One night she pushed me to far.

 

She was drunk of course and felling a little frisky so we we messing around and I tried to put it in the butt, she got mad and started talking shit, about how I'm no good and my dick is small, and that she probably wouldn't even feel it. so we never did have sex.

 

After she went to sleep I couldn't get the pain of her saying my dick was small out of my head. I wanted to embarrass her as much as she embarrassed me. So I got an Idea

 

I went to my closet and grabbed this old bag of marbles. I then went to my secret stash and got a bottle of lube. I could just image her reactions when she shit marbles the next morning. I lubed them up one at a time and slowly pushed each one in. About twenty in all. I got so excited I jerked off then giggled my self to sleep.

 

The next morning I woke up so excited I couldn't stand it. I made alot of noise getting dressed so she would wake up. She did and not 3 minutes later she said " oh my stomach. not again" and ran to the bathroom. I was in thee brushing my teeth. Usually she would tell me to leave but the urge was to intense. She sat down and let it rip.

 

She dam near had a heart attack from the noise. The marbles hitting the porcelin sounded like a machine gun going off in the bathroon. She turned white as a sheet and stood up. Still shitting all over the place. Marbles rolling all over the floor as they bounced around. It took her a couple of minutes to put it all together. She said " What the FUCK" I just laughed and laughed as she packed her shit and left.

 

I really do kind of miss her though.

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Mopar Newbie

Mopar

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Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop

 

 

 

that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....

 

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.

I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.

Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I'd get the blue arc of electricity dart ing back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

 

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul), while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat.

 

But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.

 

 

Am I wrong?

 

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds

would be wasting the batteries.

 

 

All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really, and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries thinking to myself, "no possible way!'

 

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit'. My reasoning was that a one second burst from such a tiny little o le thing couldn't hurt all that bad.

 

 

I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it.

 

 

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . . HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . .WHAT THE HELL!!!

 

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again.

 

 

I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs.

 

 

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

 

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a taser, one note of caution:

there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative.

 

SON-OF-A-B, THAT HURT LIKE HELL!!!

 

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was.

 

 

My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling.

 

 

Apparently I shit myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm

offering a significant reward for their safe return!!

 

P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

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