Old Man Flatdick bones Little Miss Bowling Ball Tits!

Old Man Flatdick caught his pud in a hamburger press when he was twenty three years old. Today he stapled his dick to a boat. He never had much luck with that crappy wang. He’s supposed to get married to Little Miss Bowling Ball Tits.

Little Miss Bowling Ball Tits walked down the steps to her ninja cave. She stripped down to a pair of stockings and a g-string. The music faded up as she began her Vitalitilazizzizlecize. Old Man Flatdick walked in. He ripped his pants off and rolled out his dick on the dining room table. He held the camera up  and shot a photo.

“What do you want to eat tonight Flattie?” said Little Miss Bowling Ball Tits.

“You,” said  Flatdick.

“I know already. I hope your appetite for sex doesn’t kill our relationship. I can’t always be fukkin every night. I’m not a nymphomaniac anymore.”

“If I marry you and we stop fukkin, I’m going to be very dissapointed.”

“We’ll still fuk. Just not like when we were first going out, boning constantly.”

“What’s wrong with constantly boning? Why would we stop boning? You love to bone.”

“My great grand daughter is pulling up. We’ll talk about this later. Put yer dik away.”

Flatdick rolled his dick into his pants. He walked out the back door and started his hovercraft. It smelled like a queef-o-gram. He sped off over the lake to his secret island cave.

His brother Harf was sleeping on the couch in a sleeping bag. Twenty choco taco wrappers were stuck to the mirror.  Harf jumped onto the cieling. He strutted to the toilet and pissed for six minutes.

Flatdick rolled his dick onto the coffee table and took a picture of it. Harf walked back to the couch and crawled in his bag.

“Who delivers burgers around here?” said Harf.

“Super Hookers has good burgers.”

“Had them for lunch.”

“What about chocolate covered ice cream tacos?” said Flatdick. “Looks like you ate all of mine.”

“I’m going to go out and get some more. What else do you want?”

“You haven’t been out of this house in three and a half months. This is probably the second time I’m seen you get out of that bag.”

“What the fuck do you care? I pay rent.”

“That piece of fuk couch is broken, my lady friend won’t come here to bone anymore. It needs to be napalmed. Then. Maybe you can bring it back in here.”

“Don’t be such a dick. I’ll powder it in Borax and the smell will be gone. What did you want at the store?”


  • By Mr. Mulligan, October 11, 2009 @ 11:19 pm

    If I catch Old Man Flatdick near my wife again, I’m gonna kick his ass with a ski boot! Stop rolling your dick out where it’s not wanted!!!

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