Wallop

In an attempt to defeat the passive writer’s block that
seems to have gripped me, and everyone else who contributes to GS, I’ve decided
to put together a selection of meaningless rants that will cheapen the front
page.  I mean, cheapen it more than it
already is.  I don’t know…was it ever not
cheap?

This technique has been decided on as a healthier and more
productive alternative to picking up 14 year old crack whores who let you wallop
them up the ass for $15 a shot.  Though
the crack whore method is a proven step towards curing writer’s block, and
headaches, it is a bit more costly than just writing about anal sex with crack
whores on my retarded webpage, which is free, innocent and fun.

Not that $15 is costly to me these days, mind you, but let’s
just say that I have lots of wallop.  Or,
perhaps, that I enjoy walloping.

Besides, it’s not just the money.  There’s wear and tear on my car and, unlike
in Albuquerque, picking up crack whores in DC is tough business as they’re all
armed with MAC-10’s and are feverishly republican.

Or are those my co-workers?
Crack whores, co-workers, the difference really is fifteen extra
dollars.

Incidentally, I find it amusing that there’s a huge hooker
element at Catholic University of America.
Girls traveling in pairs, driving around, pulling up next to johns at
traffic lights and asking them if they want to party.  While CUA girls are considerably more
expensive than crack whores, they are operating freelance.  It shows both verve and ingenuity.  Mom and dad are paying for the education; the
girls are just making some extra on the side.
And they’re Catholic, which means they’ve been shoving chair legs up
their asses and fucking football teams since they were nine years old.

I like Catholic girls.

Anyway, turning to quick-rants as a release, because then I
won’t have to worry about social diseases or finding my car keys or wondering
if I really should check the engine whenever the check engine light comes on.  This way, I can sit here and write however
many words while waiting for the next delivery from Netflix which, arguably, is
the cause for my writer’s block.  That
and obsessing about whatever’s growing on my toe.

And masturbation.  I
should add that chronic masturbation has really cut into my writing time.  This could probably be branched into the sex discussion…  You know, I should just get it over with and
pay one of my co-workers the $15 for a solid deep dicking.  Or fisting.
Or walloping, which encompasses the whole spectrum from cock to chair
leg.