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Oh, Jesus.

Whispers. "Shh, shh, shh, s'ok, s'ok, shh. Iouna sugya dih. Hah ha. Yeah. Peeenis," she slurred, while foraging in the dark for my ween. Kevin’s gal. From the smell, she was blotto. Twisted. Tanked. Gone Borneo. Zooted. Plotzed. I read the rest of the synonyms written on her “Preppy Drinking Shirt” as she took my cock into her mouth. “Hi!” she spoke to it first.

I looked down my nose at her sinking like the moon behind my distended belly. I’d eaten myself into madness. At last.

No. Reality came rushing back with the wind of Kevin’s flatus. He slumbered and shifted in his bunk. Kevin was my…my college roomate. He was…in his bed. In our..dorm room? Son of a bitch. Scranton. I was still in Scranton. I was on the floor! What year was this?

I wrenched in agony. Daggers clashed deep in my bowels. The Steamy Tan leaked from my ass. Intolerable burning. My innards churned gravel and broken glass through a stew of snapped scissors and corrosive porridge. I shuddered.

“Mmhmm, you lieg thah?”

Turkey gravy. Pulp of balsa wood. Blood and mustard. Quivering. Puckering eye. Heat.

“Got a fat cocks. Hee.”

I could see liquid shit spilling from Kevin’s bed, too, rippling pudding curtains pouring in boiling folds from beneath his comforter,
raining onto his mini-fridge, his LP’s, the floor, his Fender Squire, pooling around me and his gal. My hair sopped it up like a rag.

What was happening?!

Everything, guts, belly, ass, cheeks, muscles, vocal chords, fingers, toes, diaphragm, intestines succumbed in a single, violent tremor, then, as I came into Kevin’s gal’s mouth. I watched my stomach collapse as the first fart thundered. I gambled and lost. I pissed out my ass. At first a flood of gas, chased by popgun turds and noisy perforations. The soupy diarrhea came, then, endlessly.

She held on. “HmmmM!! MMM!!!!”



Date Written: January 12, 2005
Author: Dick Vomit
Average Vote: 4.58333

01/26/2005 Stomach Foot: oo, sorry author, but the 2nd graf moon simile is a ripoff. sorry.
01/26/2005 Stomach Foot: oo, sorry author, but the 2nd graf moon simile is a ripoff. sorry.
01/26/2005 Stomach Foot: sorry
01/26/2005 anonymous: Unintended.


01/26/2005 TheBuyer: Besides this guy getting a horrible sounding blowjob, I'm confused, and possibly traumatised. Processing.
01/26/2005 The Rid: Liking this less with each installment.
01/26/2005 Mr. Pony (4): Going nuts probably sucks, but going nuts and having severe diarrhea probably sucks more. Lines like "What year was this" and "What was happening?!" made me unhappy. The style is almost too much, and I worry about the chapters to come. Three, Five.
01/26/2005 qualcomm: logorrhea
01/26/2005 TheBuyer (4): I like the capping of The Steamy Tan like a city is rolling out of his ass.
01/26/2005 anonymous: Yes, logorrhea.


01/26/2005 Jon Matza: Yes, while there's some fribble over-the-top language here for sure THIS GUY (this guy) likes some room temp prose interspersed to break it up. Think of how the greatest rock bands use dynamic shifts--Zeppelin, Pixies, Nirvana, Replacements, FYC, the Figgs, etc. In short, we've seen more compelling Brown.
02/2/2005 qualcomm (5): fu, alliance
02/2/2005 The Rid (5): QC: Ditto.
02/2/2005 port jervis (5): ALLIANCE! I pity you.
02/20/2011 Marvin_Bernstein (4.5):