Archive for April 25th, 2005

Little Red Riding Hood (guest-starring Kennysia)

Apr 25, 2005 in Story-teller

21SX, underaged kids have been forewarned.

You all thought The Big Bad Wolf was bad. Well, 'bad' is an understatement. He was atrociously evil with a screwed-up mind. I mean, here was an openly disgusting 'wolf-anizer' that went around fucking every single she-wolf who would stupidly fall into his hairy palms. He caused such a mess in the wolf community that he was ousted and told to go far, far away and never come back.

Now, what is a poor sex-hungry wolf to do when he's lost his main supply of succulent females? Roaming the woods and mourning his pain for the ultimate shame and loss, The Big Bad Wolf was full of remorse for all the sins that he had commited against members of his fellow species.

But criminals don't usually repent so easily. So as he plodded along amongst the forest woods, his pricky nose sensed the distinctive scent of warm, female blood. As expected, evil thoughts crowded his mind.

He saw a cottage in a clearing. He decided to explore his obvious options.

'A female must reside in this quaint little cottage, and this early in the dawn she must be fast asleep,' thought The Big Bad Wolf, gleefully rubbing his hairy palms against each other. Then he set out on all fours and trespassed the borders between Man and Wolf. He climbed in through the bedroom window, and to his disgust, he saw an old ah-mah instead of a young woman.

Now old women don't sleep that easily, and hearing the thud of four legs against the carpets of her bedroom was enough to startle this grandmother out of bed.

'Oh,' she sat up. 'A wolf.'

'I'm sorry, I must have come into the wrong place,' said the wolf, turning around to leave out of the window again.

'Please. Stay a bit, I've been lonely for a while,' said the old lady in the bed, reaching out her bony fingers (which were covered by a very thin layer of wrinkled skin).

'You're not my type,' said the wolf.

'They all say that,' started the old lady, and as she told her tale of her post-menopausal sex-less life, two humongous tear drops started to roll down her wrinkled cheeks.

Poor Big Bad Wolf was trapped. He didn't like to see old ladies cry, so he decided to stay. As a result he had to endure a very long Grandmother Story.

'…they all don't want to fuck me anymore, and all because they say that I'm no longer taunt and tight, and also because they all want to fuck my silly little 10-year-old granddaughter who trots around the woods calling herself 'Little Red Riding Hood' like some paedophile-inviting bitch,' sobbed the deprived woman, blowing her crumpled nose with a tissue. 'She's just coming today again in the afternoon with some fruit cake and wine.'

Now Big Bad Wolves don't usually take pity on people, and if it is to be assumed so, you must always associate that act of pity with a far more evil motive. Obviously, the Big Bad Wolf wanted more, and Little Red Riding Hood sounded like 'more'. So he decided to be nice to the poor old lady.

'Well, you poor old lady, is there anything I can do for you?' asked the Big Bad Wolf, sounding genuinely caring.

The old lady sniffled, 'There's really nothing, Wolfie-boy… just that, I haven't made love in a very long time, and it would be…'

Well, old or young, a female is still a female, so the wolf kindly obliged. 'It will be a pleasure, my lady.'

***

Unfortunately, when you are old, you just can't take very strenous exercise, so in the midst of all that intense love-making, the old woman had a heart attack and died. But she died in an orgasmic climax, so I must say she was extremely happy when she died.

The wolf was not so pleased though. Bad enough that he was a grandmother-fucker, he was now a dead-grandmother fucker. See, Little Red Riding Hood was just coming around the corner (he could hear her 10-year-old voice singing her arrival a far distance away), and it just wouldn't do for a little girl to find her grandmother lying naked and dead in bed.

So stuffing the wrinkled dead body into the broom closet, the wolf frantically put on the old woman's clothes, jumped into the old woman's bed, and pulled the covers up his hairy body. Then he waited.

***

The door creaked open and in walked Little Red Riding Hood, wearing, surprise, surprise, a Red Hooded Cloak.

'Oh Grandmother, I'm here again, with fruit cake and wine,' said the little girl, who was 10-years-old but looked 14, and had tiny bumps for breasts, and 'who obviously wasn't wearing a bra,' thought the wolf. He felt his manhood bulging, and made an extra effort to smoothen his voice.

'Hello, my Little Red Riding Hood,' said the wolf. 'Come a little closer my dear, so that I may see you.'

The unassuming picture of innocence moved to the bed. She sensed something wrong immediately, and said, 'Oh Grandmother, what big ears you have!'

'All the better to hear you with, my dear.'

The little girl squinted, 'Oh Grandmother, what a big nose you have.'

'All the better to smell you with, my dear.'
'Oh Grandmother, what big and hairy hands you have!'
'All the better to stroke you with, my dear.'
'Oh Grandmother, what a big mouth you have!'
'All the better to kiss you with, my dear!'
'Oh Grandmother, what…'

'Oh shut the fuck up you little bitch,' cried the wolf, unable to restrain any longer, he leaped out of bed and the little girl was in shock to see a wolf instead of her grandmother.

'You're going to eat me?!' she shrieked as he ripped the clothes off her.

'If you like, my dear,' said the wolf. 'And I will lick you, and suck you, and do everything that I wanted to do…'

And she screamed and screamed then in the shock of all things fell unconscious, leaving her bare body open to the assault of The Big Bad Wolf.

***

Just as the wolf was about to penetrate the little damsel in distress, a voice said, 'Do I find you here, you old sinner. I have long sought you.'

It was the famed Kennysia, and he was here to save the day.

The wolf looked up from his aroused slowness, and starred at this unwanted intrusion. 'Who are…'

'I am your friendly neighbourhood blogger, with balls the size of coconuts, and they say you are The Big Bad Wolf,' said Kennysia.

'Pity, I have never seen balls the size of coconuts before,' mumbled The Big Bad Wolf and moved away from the knocked-out girl, to examine this loud-mouthed intruder. 'Now get the fuck out and leave me to my business.'

'You're not big at all,' said Kennysia. 'In fact, you are just tiny. Your namesake is a hoax.'

Now if you be a woman, you'd know that any man, would be insulted to be told that he was tiny. So The Big Bad Wolf got really pissed.

'Oh. Like you're so big lah,' said the wolf.
'Yes I am. I have a Big Bird,' Kennysia said.
'And your balls?'
'They're the size of coconuts.'
'Sure boh?'
'Come we compare and see,' dared the wolf.
'OK. And if I win?'
'I will leave the girl alone, and confess to all my sins in the world, including the fucked dead grandmother in the broom closet.'
'Deal.'

And Kenny dropped his pants.

The wolf stared. He had never seen such a yellow and feathered Big Bird in his entire life. Compared to his one hairy tiny bird, this was surely the biggest he had ever encountered. And the balls, GAWD, they were just spillingly huge, like coconuts.

'See? I told you I would win,' said Kenny. 'Now begone, and never come back. Otherwise you will suffer a very painful death.'

And that, my friends, was how the famed Kennysia got rid of The Big Bad Wolf, and saved poor Little Red Riding Hood.

PS: The Grandmother didn't die, by the way. She was old, so when people are old, when they breathe, its very slow, and by the time the wolf was gone, the dust in the broom closet had gagged the old lady so much, she came out coughing and sneezing. So at the end of the day, Little Red Riding Hood was reunited with her grandmother, and the old lady was happy because she was fucked, even at the age of 85.

I fucking hate goddamn stupid shitty fucked up idiots

Apr 25, 2005 in General

God I fucking hate goddamn stupid shitty fucked up idiots who set their default IE font size to small, and then come to my site, uninvited, can't read a thing (because of their completely myopic vision) and call me an overrated blogger.

I've come to realize that there are many kinds of bloggers, and lately there's this idioticly sad and desperate bunch who sit in front of their computers thinking about ways to increase traffic. That one, I don't mind, I can understand, but to whore for traffic by blogging a fuck-ass post where he badmouths every other big-ass name he can think of and LINKING them up at the same time is just pushing the 'traffic-whoring' game too far an inch. By the way, the best part about this whole business is, I'm not even an overrated blogger. Everyone knows that I'm still the same ole' me and I hardly have visitors.

Remember that simple rule of being polite, you don't like someone, pretend to smile and then get the fuck out. Simple, and easy. Why go and fuck your mind off like that? Oh yeah, what did they say again? 'There are no rules to blogging, and I can say whatever I like in my blog.' So because of the free release that everyone pushes for, I have the COMPLETE right to say the following:

Go to hell and stop building up your own popularity out of 'overrated' blogs like yours truly's. If you're happy and you know it clap your hands, if you're unhappy and unfucked, go get a whore, and STOP imagining that saying the word 'fuck' over and over again will change your depressing state.

On a lighter note, is Kenny winning the role of the bad-ass blogger? Reaffirmations will seal his fate.

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