Some time ago, I was involved in a great relationship, with a woman I will call TK. Or kitten I guess, thunder kitten is her name. When we first started dating we hit it off immediately. I was pretty much in awe of her. She had some idiosyncrasies, all of which I found to be cute. We were pretty much the same person really. The only difference was that she was in college, and I say fuck education. Not really, I just had to find a difference between us. Oh, I know what the difference was, we both had cars, but her license was the only one that worked. She is a very smart gal, the type of woman you hate to get in an argument with, because she always used those damned SAT words. A typical argument would be;
And of course I would be upset hearing this, not only because I didn’t know what the hell it meant, but I was sure that meant no sex that evening. Evening, was the word I definitely understood. And the evenings were great. Her sex was like sprinkles of heaven at times. However, I always had a witty comeback to getting told off in such a manner;
Damnit, I’m smart too. But they weren’t ever really bad, and even if they were I don’t remember. However, there will always be a night that lives in infamy.
Sometimes, I would stay for the weekend, or stay for a night or whatever. She is an incredibly hard sleeper. I don’t know what I was doing on this night, I was either on the computer, or watching a dvd. She was sleeping, looking like an angel, and I was trying my best to fall asleep. I don’t know why, I just had some trouble falling asleep there. I am guessing it was because of the central air or something. Or maybe I needed a drink to take the edge off. But I am pretty sure it was that I didn’t bust a nut or something. Nothing says goodnight like a date with Pamela Handerson.
But, this night was different; she was tired from school or whatever, and looked oh so pretty laying there. Snoring, flopping around the bed, like a conformist on a Sunday morning at church. Now that I think of it, I was reading a book, in the little light I had to work with, the book was called Tuff. Good book, and I was pretty much into it. All of a sudden, I hear a motor cycle, loud as fuck outside. I was pissed off, it was maybe 2 in the morning, and this was a little cull de sac in the almost suburbs.
I jumped up, and went right to the window, to look to see just who the hell would be revving up their bike like that, this time of night. The nerve of these fuckers. They were about to wake up my sweet boo. I look out the window, but by that time the motor cycle was gone. And I was a hot head, I wanted to throw a brick at the rider of the bike. Or something. Since I didn’t see them, I went and sat back down, and began to read again. This time I was closer to the window, just in case the fucker came back.
Then I hear it again, but this time I was at the window, and I didn’t see shit. So I am now like, this is fucked up that a helicopter is hovering around this area this time of night. It was so loud. I mean the sound shook the whole house it seemed like. The computer monitor moved a little to the left. The cup of pennies she had on her dresser rattled. I was concerned with this, like, what if the shit landed in the middle of the complex. That would be crazy. The sound was unbearable at that ungodly hour.
PLLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!
It sounded like a giant 30 foot Cyclops put his tongue between his lips, and started to blow, and blow hard.
PLLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!
I turn back towards the bed, to wake up my sweet boo, to let her know a helicopter was about to land in the front of the house, and she needed to wake up. It could have been the government or something. I don’t know what, but the noise was loud enough, that it required her immediate attention.
So, I turn towards the bed, and I hear the helicopter again. The strange thing is that, the helicopter was under the blanket. The helicopter was under the blanket, hovering around her asshole, and apparently stuck underneath the blanket, and was trying desperately to escape into the room.
My sweet boo was no longer sweet. She was farting that whole fucking time. The shit shook the room. It made objects move. The fish that swam in the pond close by, stopped swimming. An ostrich walked up on the grass, and stuck its head in the lawn. Her neighbor, who was a devout atheist, jumped out the window praising god and apologized for not believing. Someone from Pepperdine University called me, and asked if my name was Richter. Michael Jackson threw his KY jelly out the window and told the boys to go the fuck home, and his sister put her titty back in her shirt. Wendy Williams became attractive. Nick Cannon became un corny, and Beyonce decided to sit the hell down. Yes, it was that serious.
I went downstairs to laugh my ass off for about 30 minutes. Of all the times I needed a video camera, this would have been it. I don’t think I looked he in the eye for the next week. Because all I kept thinking was that my sweet boo, had them damn Helicopter Farts.
Fin.
Me: “Why would you do some shit like that?
TK: “Why would I substantiate the obviousness of your obloquy about something
that is so much bullshit that I cannot fathom to even bring myself to exculpate
you this evening.”
And of course I would be upset hearing this, not only because I didn’t know what the hell it meant, but I was sure that meant no sex that evening. Evening, was the word I definitely understood. And the evenings were great. Her sex was like sprinkles of heaven at times. However, I always had a witty comeback to getting told off in such a manner;
Me: “Ya momma!”
Damnit, I’m smart too. But they weren’t ever really bad, and even if they were I don’t remember. However, there will always be a night that lives in infamy.
Sometimes, I would stay for the weekend, or stay for a night or whatever. She is an incredibly hard sleeper. I don’t know what I was doing on this night, I was either on the computer, or watching a dvd. She was sleeping, looking like an angel, and I was trying my best to fall asleep. I don’t know why, I just had some trouble falling asleep there. I am guessing it was because of the central air or something. Or maybe I needed a drink to take the edge off. But I am pretty sure it was that I didn’t bust a nut or something. Nothing says goodnight like a date with Pamela Handerson.
But, this night was different; she was tired from school or whatever, and looked oh so pretty laying there. Snoring, flopping around the bed, like a conformist on a Sunday morning at church. Now that I think of it, I was reading a book, in the little light I had to work with, the book was called Tuff. Good book, and I was pretty much into it. All of a sudden, I hear a motor cycle, loud as fuck outside. I was pissed off, it was maybe 2 in the morning, and this was a little cull de sac in the almost suburbs.
I jumped up, and went right to the window, to look to see just who the hell would be revving up their bike like that, this time of night. The nerve of these fuckers. They were about to wake up my sweet boo. I look out the window, but by that time the motor cycle was gone. And I was a hot head, I wanted to throw a brick at the rider of the bike. Or something. Since I didn’t see them, I went and sat back down, and began to read again. This time I was closer to the window, just in case the fucker came back.
Then I hear it again, but this time I was at the window, and I didn’t see shit. So I am now like, this is fucked up that a helicopter is hovering around this area this time of night. It was so loud. I mean the sound shook the whole house it seemed like. The computer monitor moved a little to the left. The cup of pennies she had on her dresser rattled. I was concerned with this, like, what if the shit landed in the middle of the complex. That would be crazy. The sound was unbearable at that ungodly hour.
PLLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!
It sounded like a giant 30 foot Cyclops put his tongue between his lips, and started to blow, and blow hard.
PLLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!
I turn back towards the bed, to wake up my sweet boo, to let her know a helicopter was about to land in the front of the house, and she needed to wake up. It could have been the government or something. I don’t know what, but the noise was loud enough, that it required her immediate attention.
So, I turn towards the bed, and I hear the helicopter again. The strange thing is that, the helicopter was under the blanket. The helicopter was under the blanket, hovering around her asshole, and apparently stuck underneath the blanket, and was trying desperately to escape into the room.
My sweet boo was no longer sweet. She was farting that whole fucking time. The shit shook the room. It made objects move. The fish that swam in the pond close by, stopped swimming. An ostrich walked up on the grass, and stuck its head in the lawn. Her neighbor, who was a devout atheist, jumped out the window praising god and apologized for not believing. Someone from Pepperdine University called me, and asked if my name was Richter. Michael Jackson threw his KY jelly out the window and told the boys to go the fuck home, and his sister put her titty back in her shirt. Wendy Williams became attractive. Nick Cannon became un corny, and Beyonce decided to sit the hell down. Yes, it was that serious.
I went downstairs to laugh my ass off for about 30 minutes. Of all the times I needed a video camera, this would have been it. I don’t think I looked he in the eye for the next week. Because all I kept thinking was that my sweet boo, had them damn Helicopter Farts.
Fin.
LOL you have a wild immagination. That was funny.
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