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- From: tomf@gte.com (Tom Fawcett)
- Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
- Subject: Imitation RICHH
- Message-ID: <TOMF.92Nov23092314@ai.gte.com>
- Date: 23 Nov 92 14:23:14 GMT
- Sender: news@ceylon.gte.com
- Reply-To: tomf@gte.com
- Organization: GTE Laboratories, Inc.
- Lines: 51
-
-
- You know how this works. <Bracketed comments are mine>
-
-
-
- <Dear Forum:
-
- I never thought the stories in alt.non.sequitur were true until last weekend
- when> A strong hand raised me from the pavement; it was attached to a
- beautiful blonde Amazon <with gigantic hooters> from the Amazon, six foot two
- of hard muscle <topped by huge heaving passion pillows> sheathed in soft
- woman-skin <hugging her delicious curves>. Her wistful gray eyes
- <telegraphed staccato clicks of desire> had the maternal tenderness of a good
- steak, and I <knew that bosky frolic was about to commence> melted into a
- blob of disgusting <KY> jelly, which she carefully wrapped <around my
- ever-attentive nookie nozzle> in a used garbage-can and ocean liner and
- sailed into the Atlantic <on a midnight cruise to my atoll of ecstacy>.
-
- The spirit of carnauba wax filled her <brassiere> veins, and she precipitated
- out of solution and <turned off the blacklight over my frazetta poster>
- formed the scum of the earth in the secret places <the underside of her knee,
- the tip of her tongue, the spot under my bed with all the dust bunnies> of the
- stares of the incredulous crowd <at my growing love missile>. Sigmoid Frund,
- the great-uncle of <perineum exploration> modern cycle-analysis and S-shape,
- brought his colonoscopy instruments and played a sonata on <our private
- passion peninsula> them, enchanting her into <my groovy lair of love> the form
- of a slug made of <the thick spreading> motor-oil meringue <of her stimulated
- genitalia>. With <the sensitivity of a weasel in heat> spoons chipped by
- robotic beavers from human skulls, I attacked <her blood-engorged feminine
- nether regions> and ate her. I levitated above <my twin bed with its
- "101 Dalmations" sheets> this sorry scene, taking notes for posterity and a
- newspaper article I was writing <SchlongMaster Chronicle> about Grenoble,
- wondering <what she had meant by "YOU'RE IN ME YOU'RE IN ME OH GOD YOU'RE A
- CAVEMAN"> about Canberra and eels.
-
- When the bustle had died down and <Mr.Happy was back in his closet> women no
- longer <laughed at my tendency to wheeze chords when excited> enhanced their
- backsides so arsiduously <oh, a play on words. good one!>, I plummeted gently
- to the <sheets of satisfaction> rubber paving-bricks of the circular square.
-
- <I took a deep breath and emitted a long, satisfying growl. I was the
- dachshund of love, and she was my bitch.>
-
- -Name withheld upon request
-
- ==============================
-
-
- Damn, that's easier than it looks.
-
- -Tom
-