This page copyright 1998 The Shrubbery
Shut Me Up!
What be up, mateys? This is Ryan rappin' at ya again and I got some real big news in my life. I know what you are thinking. What does Ryan have to say now?
April, the month of fools, Aries, and that gorgeous stud Todd McCafferty's birthday. Forget all that though because I have some important news for you. I, Ryan Glowchewskyie, have got my first non-auto-hand-job. What does that mean? Yes, a girl put her hand around my penis, pumped up and down repeatedly, and brought me to a climax that included spurting semen out of my penis and onto her hand and a little on my shirt. And I am not talking about the kind of hand-job you get form your mom, or your sister, or old ladies that sleep behind the abandoned warehouse on 53rd Street.
It started with a beg. I think it is a communication thing. I pleaded with the girl. "Please, please give me a hand-job!" My mouth asked for permission and in return she granted it by not resisting enough to the brutal slap I gave her across the face and taking my threats of mutilation to her and her family as serious.
I mean…I am new at all this so I was kind of driving without a license if you know what I mean. I wasn't sure if everything was jibing, but once I looked into her puffy, red, tear streaked face I knew that my radar was functioning at top notch.
So she reluctantly begins "pumping my hose that is attached to the gas thing at the gas station."
There are some things they just don't teach you at school:
1. The fact that wrists bruised from excessive jostling tire easily.
3. What in God's name do you do with the knife held at her throat afterwards?
So after a couple of seconds it is all over and I am shaking very badly, being depleted of manhood and all. And in the third most embarrassing moment of my life I explain that I have never done this before, and, ahem, sorry for any ineptitude on my part.
She just sat there balled up in the corner rocking and muttering something to herself.
"Is that what I was supposed to do?" I ask, attempting to quell my feelings of inadequacy. Again, she just stared blankly into the opposite corner of the wall.
Later I guess she curled up fetal position in her shower with all her clothes on and the water running, crying.
Since then I have learned a lot of things, like it is best to just slit the girl's throat when it is all over with, how to get rid of my weapon, and what to use to remove my fingerprints from the girl's apartment. And about Roofies.
I just caught my 132nd Pokemon and I am seriously stoked.
What is it about those little creatures that excite the hell out of me?
I was just the other day skipping class and playing my little video games.
Face it, little fad type things are great.