6 February 2007

Threesome With the Old Bastard

Just as the two strippers had laid Jimi on the middle of Legs' basement floor during halftime of the SuperBowl and were preparing to simulate a threesome with the old bastard I realized I could breathe for the first time in about a fortnight.

I had tried every remedy under the sun except for the most obvious one to get myself better until Saturday night. I drank a bucket of scotch. I got myself good and stinko. And the next day I felt pretty damn good in the morning and like a million bucks by the time Prince and the two strippers hit the stage. Beer has magical curing powers but only scotch can perform miracles.

The strippers must have figured Legs and his buddies were some strange motherfuckers when the scouting team hired the pair for half time before Christmas because while their (very large) minder waited outside the bedroom they were getting dressed to perform in they were getting dressed as Prince. Little moustaches, pastel suits and all.

The whole bunch of us never laughed so hard as we did when the big tits blonde Princes took turns waving their fresh bathed Canadian beavers and apricot assholes over Jimi's face on Leg's new carpet.

On the floor Jimi howled, "Who's the Princess now motherfuckers?"

My SuperBowl Sunday beats yours every time.

2 comments:

Ed said...

Yep, beats the hell out of mine.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

editor's note: Ed's idea of threesome is being in the garage with two Volvos at the same time.