As I walk in through the back door, I see my neighbor sitting in the kitchen.
She looks up at me and immediately starts screaming.
“GET OUT, YOU CREEP!!”
I jump. “Jesus lady, calm the fuck down.”
“WHAT?! DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!! GO AWAY!”
I decide to ignore the crazy bitch because I really need to shit. So I walk past her and head straight for the bathroom.
“OH NO! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE! NOT AGAIN!”
“You know what, I blame the state for cutting mental health care budgets,” I say. I genuinely feel bad for her.
As I reach for the bathroom door, her 19 year old daughter walks up to me.
“Hey Vincent,” she says. “Is it happening again?”
“Yup.”
“Alright. Well, come see me after. I want you to fill my holes up.”
“Like hell I will, bitch. I'm married and loyal to my wife.”
“DON'T YOU FUCKING TALK TO MY DAUGHTER LIKE THAT!” her mom screams.
“She wants me to have sex with her, crazy woman!”
“WHAT!? IS THAT TRUE, STACY???”
“Shut up, Mom. Yes. And he's right, you're crazy.”
Well, it's a family matter now. Not my problem.
I pull down my pants and sit on the glorious toilet, just in time to unload last night's butter chicken.
God, what a relief.
Seconds later, my neighbor throws open the bathroom door.
“YOU ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING! GET OFF MY TOILET OR I'M CALLING THE POLICE, YOU FREAK!”
Sigh...
“Hold on.”
I squeeze out the last bit of diarrhea.
“Okay, you win.”
I get up and pull up my pants. Their toilet paper is like sandpaper anyway.
I try to flush, but the toilet seems clogged.
“I'm such a big boy,” I say, smiling at my neighbor.
“GET OOOOOOUUUUT!!!!!”
She's really angry now. I push past her and make my way to the front door.
“Will you please just fuck me!?” Stacy begs as I'm about to leave.
“I wouldn't cheat on my wife even if your toilet was made out of gold, Stacy.”
I walk out and head home.
My neighbors are really insane.
Fat people confuse me. I mean if you're so planetary, then maybe it's a good idea to idk eat less? How difficult can that be to understand lmfao
I’m at that age where I’m not sure whether to call females my age “women” or “girls”. The former makes them sound too old, but the latter makes it sound like I just picked them up from the playground.
There’s a knock at the door. I open it to find two men in uniform standing on my doorstep.
“Are you Vincent?” one of them asks.
“Yes?”
“We need you to come with us.”
“What for?”
“We’ll explain once you come with us.”
“Then I’m not coming.”
“You have to come with us, sir.”
I make a jerking motion. “I’ll come in your face.”
The two men exchange a look. One reaches for me, but I jump back.
“Sir, we’ve discovered some disturbing posts you made on Twitter, and we need to ask you a few questions.”
“X,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not Twitter anymore, fucktard. It’s X.”
“Either way, sir, the posts were very disturbing.”
The man pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket, covered in printouts of my posts, and starts reading aloud.
“I would rather be fisted by an elephant than pay any more taxes. So as of today, I’m not paying my taxes no more.”
I chuckle. They both look at me. He continues reading.
“I hope they never let trans women into the women’s bathroom in hopes that one day I’ll be sexually assaulted by a big titty trans baddie.”
I wink at the other man, who’s been staring at me in disgust. He shakes his head.
“So you’re gonna need to come with us,” the man with the paper says.
“I’d rather scissor with an Ebola patient than come with you.”
“There’s no call for such language!” he shouts.
“That’s not what your mom said last night. She loved the dirty talk!”
“Sir, do not insult my mother! She passed away recently, and I shall not tolerate such disrespect!”
“She passed away because I decided I didn’t wanna fuck a woman who gave birth to such a pathetic son anymore.”
The man starts weeping.
“Get it together, Wilbert,” the other says, nudging him.
“Wilbert? Oh, so you’re the guy whose name she kept screaming during sex? What a family!”
Wilbert turns pale, starts throwing up, and collapses on my doorstep.
“You’re disgusting,” the other man says as he struggles to drag his comrade back to their car.
“Not as disgusting as Wilbert!” I shout after him.
“You’ll hear from us!” he shouts back.
“No I won’t.”
I slam the door.
Problem solved.
If you want your wife to stay skinny, make sure to point out all the skinny women and call them fat so she develops body dysmorphia.
Your girlfriend can have a guy best friend as long as you fuck him up the ass like once a week. That's the only way.
“Raaawwrrr I'm Fartzilla!” I growl as I enter the bedroom, farting my ass off.
“What the fuck are you doing?” my wife screams.
“You wanted me to be more forthcoming about my kinks, right?”
“Yeah, but... Fartzilla? Like what the fuck?”
“I thought you'd like it,” I mumble as I take off the fake Godzilla tail.
“Why wou— What's even the point of this Fartzilla thing? Are you just gonna walk around the bed farting?”
“Well... and on you, I was hoping.”
“On me? You were gonna fart on me? And you thought I was gonna enjoy that?”
“I... I don't know. Ugh, I feel dumb now. And I bought this stupid tail...”
“Oh honey... come sit next to me.”
I sit down next to my wife and she puts her arm around me.
“You know what? The idea was dumb, but it's actually kinda sexy that you had the courage to go through with it,” she says as she starts rubbing her hand over my crotch.
Before I know it, I'm lying on my back while she's sucking me off. And I guess the courage went to my head, because without giving it a second thought, I rip the loudest fart of my life.
Shocked by what I've just done, I freeze and wait for her reaction. But she just moans and starts sucking harder. Harder... Harder...
I come so hard I think I'm gonna send her flying into the ceiling.
“That's my boy,” she says with a smile.
Be open about your kinks, boys!
