- Mar 3, 2008
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So in light of Mosh's thread on the content of AT forums, I have decided to share a story from work with y'all.
Carol could NOT come in at 11:30 as scheduled on Friday due to a herpes flareup courtesy of Al, her long time stalker and personal incubus. He's been sleeping around with Brooke, a local hooker known for catching the late night stoners and their stolen $5 bills, and contracted something good. Doctors still are testing to determine whether he contracted a disease or something akin to a demonic hitman. She spent the day at the hospital in the same room as the wild boar who only tips $10 on a $150 bill.
They talked about the Good Ole' Days when they were skinny and when they would ride Harleys topless. Riding by the beach would quite often net enough cash to pay for the reconstructive boob jobs needed to maintain their Barbie-doll-like figures. Since then, the Boar put on about 150lbs from multiple partner's offspring as well as an accident involving the misuse of silicon. How sad.
While in the hospital, a surgeon came and told Carol she was talking so loud he couldn't think. Carol told him to fuck off. She promptly found herself in the thick of probably the greatest trip encountered by man, as the surgeon felt she had volunteered herself for a new type of drug with a common side effect of floppy boobs. Since she was still quite infected with teh herps, the normal destruction of boobie fat was negated by the surreal number of sores which seemed to be heading north for the summer.
Fortunately for Carol there exists a miracle drug to cure herpes. It is the "dust" out of Al's dong. All she had to do was rub it on and *poof* no herpes. YAY!!!11!
Today she stands proud among the chosen few who survived.
Additionally, Al now has more targets than just Carol, as his recent fame as the sole producer of an anti-herpes cream has him working overtime to father additional sources as well as maintain a high level of production.
Carol could NOT come in at 11:30 as scheduled on Friday due to a herpes flareup courtesy of Al, her long time stalker and personal incubus. He's been sleeping around with Brooke, a local hooker known for catching the late night stoners and their stolen $5 bills, and contracted something good. Doctors still are testing to determine whether he contracted a disease or something akin to a demonic hitman. She spent the day at the hospital in the same room as the wild boar who only tips $10 on a $150 bill.
They talked about the Good Ole' Days when they were skinny and when they would ride Harleys topless. Riding by the beach would quite often net enough cash to pay for the reconstructive boob jobs needed to maintain their Barbie-doll-like figures. Since then, the Boar put on about 150lbs from multiple partner's offspring as well as an accident involving the misuse of silicon. How sad.
While in the hospital, a surgeon came and told Carol she was talking so loud he couldn't think. Carol told him to fuck off. She promptly found herself in the thick of probably the greatest trip encountered by man, as the surgeon felt she had volunteered herself for a new type of drug with a common side effect of floppy boobs. Since she was still quite infected with teh herps, the normal destruction of boobie fat was negated by the surreal number of sores which seemed to be heading north for the summer.
Fortunately for Carol there exists a miracle drug to cure herpes. It is the "dust" out of Al's dong. All she had to do was rub it on and *poof* no herpes. YAY!!!11!
Today she stands proud among the chosen few who survived.
Additionally, Al now has more targets than just Carol, as his recent fame as the sole producer of an anti-herpes cream has him working overtime to father additional sources as well as maintain a high level of production.
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