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GRABME STORY– BY WOMEN!

9/20/2005

GRABME STORY– BY WOMEN!
<br>
or
<br>
GRABME STORY-- FORCIABLY AND ORALY COPULATED BY
A BAND OF NAZI WOMEN
<br>
or
<br>
GRABME GETS A HUMMER IN THE DESERT AND DISCOVERS A LONG LOST
NAZI CADRE
<br>
<br>
Writer’s note–I hope this one has enough sex to satisfy
you satyrs, I kind’a think it will. We got….well read on
a bit you shouldn’t have trouble to wet your whistle or your
noodle on this one and please do not dip your pecker in Crisco
cause as you know that is shortening
( Gaw’d we don’t want none of that).
<br>
[ New readers can find an assortment of GrabMe stories of
the “New South” on the internet or at this site listed under
the handle Grabmetwice, get to that damn long list under
articles, just pass the jokes and poetry and get to the stories,
chances are that if you like this one, you’ll like them apples
as well. GrabMe is talking about taking a long vacation
so you might want to read ‘em while they are still available]
<br>
<br>
Tonight we find GrabMe and the boys down at the “High and
Dry” getting their evening beers. They are in a good mood.
GrabMe decides to treat the guys to the story of his trip
to California, some three years ago. See’in as he never
has said a word about it till tonight, they are anxious to
hear from him.
<br>
GrabMe’s friends: Pedro, who has a gardening center on
the outskirts of town, Wally works in his brothers hardware
store, Fats who is partner with his brother-in-law in the
Country Gasoline Depot, Wally who is a retired newspaper
man, GrabMe’s steady girl friend Renee, who tonight has
on a new miniskirt and very tight leopard top that the boys
think is the cats pj’s as they still say out there in the cunt-tree.
<br>
“Hey Wally.”
<br>
“Evening Pedro.”
<br>
“Hey Renee, could you bring some fresh beers all around,
take one for yourself as well. Wow, sure like your outfit
tonight! I got’ta get me a permit for hunt’en leo-pards
cause that is one pussy that I really am attracted to.”
<br>
Renee blushes, “Now stop that GrabMe.”
<br>
“Evening Fats, take off your jacket and sit a while. We just
ordered.”
<br>
“Thanks hon. Here Fatty, take my beer.”
<br>
“Hon could you bring me another. Thanks Sweetie. Sure you
can have a ride home, we’re going to be here till your shift
ends, aren’t we boys.”
<br>
Fat’s says, “You still hunt’en after that gal GrabMe?”
<br>
“OK Fats, don’t start tease’n me. You know I am sweet on her
and that boy of hers. Fact is I’ve been work’en on that kid’s
broken bicycle half the day. The wheel was a little bent
but hard to straighten, then the Brake Pad was worn so I replaced
that but bring now it doesn’t fit unless you alter all the
tension and travel distance. If I can’t get this damn thing
in a-1 condition I’m just go’in to buy him a new one. But you
know Fats, it’s not like when we were kids. Now days, there
is so much fuck’en traffic that I’m a little afraid to set
that little kid out on the road.”
<br>
“So Pedro, you were say’en that once the brake begins to
get some wear it will begin to seat right.”
<br>
“Yeah” says Pedro, Once it’s gets worn down.”
<br>
“ OK, I’ll give that a try.”
<br>
“Yeah, that’s right Papa, I used to bike ride.”
<br>
“No, Papa Wong, not when I was a kid, we all did that. Some
years back when that fancy by-cyle shop opened up and I just
had’a get me a fancy race’n bike. Yeah, now it is out hang’en
in the gee-rage, ten speeds and all. But I stopped use’n
it when all the fellows I’d bike with started have’n prostrate
problems and some doctor tied it to the bicycle seat jab’en
them in the back near the nut sack. As soon as I hear that I
stopped bike’n. There is one speed I need, ten I can live
without.”
<br>
“Pedro you were say’en you boy lives out in Califor-ni-a.
Where does he live? Oh yeah, I passed by there several years
back Yeah, we didn’t get that far north this trip, see’in
as we were on a special mission, related to the 49ers who
struck it rich. No, not the football team, I’m talk’en about
them prospectors from the 1850’s and on.
<br>
“Yeah Pedro, guess you are right about them strike’n gold
in Silicon Valley with them com-pu-ters.”
<br>
“This last trip I went out to visit my Uncle Earl’s son George.
Yes Fats, of course that makes him my cousin.”
<br>
“No Fatty, none of your jokes, we ain’t no kiss’en cousins.
Good thing George didn’t hear that. He’d cut you up into
little pieces with his whit-l’in knife, him be’in a little
homophonetic.”
<br>
“Homophonetic? That’s when you have trouble pronouncing
the word homosexual.”
<br>
“Well, I’m not too crazy about them airplanes. I just drove
out. Gassed up the Hummer, it was practically new, never
put much mileage on it. I figured it was designed for swamp
or desert; we got enough swamp here, so I wanted to see how
it did in the desert.”
<br>
“Well gas wasn’t even a consideration a short while back,
and you know if you can afford one of them machines, an extra
ten to fill it up ain’t no never mind. Yeah, that’s all it
was. But now, man, if it’s push’en empty. it takes a hundred
dollar bill to run the gas right up to the cap, ‘bout 33 gallons
I think. Well it’s got them pressurized caps that keeps
the whole fuel system real tight, you can’t even change
that cap with one of them fancy aluminum caps cause if the
pressure leaks, Man, you got 8500 pounds of problem. Now
I’m going to let you in on a secret, that car is more comfortable
than a Caddy-lac Escalante. It got all the time four wheel
drive and mine has got the air suspension with a compressor
mounted right up in the back of the cab. It’s as comfortable
as a feather bed on a cold winter night, grey leather upholstery
and all.”
<br>
“Yeah, I had the winch put on the front bumper. Well it does
look good, but you can use it to pull yourself out if you get
stuck off trail, provided you got somethin to tie it to.
Otherwise it don’t do shit. To be honest, I never had the
need. The weight of that ve-hicle is so great that the weight
alone on top of them big knobby tires is all you really need.”
<br>
“Where’d we go? Well Wally, best you gather in a little cause
if you want me to tell you ‘bout that trip, it’s best no one
else include’en Renee hears ‘bout that trip. Why? Well,
cause there was some female stuff that took place. I will
get to it shortly Fatty, just hold your beer and keep your
powder dry.”
<br>
“Well, we left here real early, I didn’t want to get stuck
in that traffic jam round Emerald City. Well Bernie McGee
went with me, took all his camp’en shit and them highly sensitive
underground detectors he’s got.”
<br>
“How’s it work? Well, it’s like radar ‘sept it works underground,
like a mind sweeper, yes Fatty, it sweeps the mind. You know
what they say, a clean broom sweeps mean.”
<br>
“I don’t know exactly, it must uses them electromagnetic
waves and such to tell if you is over metal and what kind a
metal by the density.”
<br>
“With them fancy units you don’t spend hours dig’en up bottle
caps and tin cans. The unit will give you a read out as to whether
it is worth put’in the shovel to the metal or not.”
<br>
“Well to get out there we figured we’d pass New Orleans and
spend the night there. Sure right in the Hummer, cause that’s
one place them Frenchies will steal your bridgework if
it ain’t tight fit in your mouth. Anyway, we get to the outskirts
of New Orleans, ”
<br>
WRITER’S NOTE–
<br>
Well McGee and me had us a nice dinner of fish and chips at
one of those drive ins off the highway, and we are sit’en
at the back of the parking lot use’n them tooth picks to clean
our teeth, when this real sweet gal comes over to us and start
talk’en to McGee and admir’in the Hummer. And McGee, who
is horney as hell cause of his high blood pressure is getten
redder and redder as their conversation is going on and
on and finally the gal looks at McGee’s red face and says,

<br>
“Scuse me sir, but I do believe you need yourself a good blow
job before you up and explode.”
<br>
And McGee who in the confusion of leave’n early had forgot
to take his blood pressure pill realized how right she was.
<br>
“You is a doctor or somethin?” says McGee.
<br>
“Sweet boy, ” says the gal, “I am a Proctologist for you
if you need one.”
<br>
“Proctologist is an ass doctor Pedro. You know for the prostrate
and all that stuff that’s stuck up your ass, I said prostrate
not prostitute.”
<br>
Next thing you know that red head is climb’en into that back
door, we having pulled out the rear seats to stow all our
gear, and she and McGee get started. First think McGee says,
<br>
“How much is this going to cost Mam?”
<br>
“You just give me whatever you think it is worth Honey, ”
and next thing you know McGee’s five quarts is stand’en
upright and headed right between her rosy lips.
<br>
That gal is move’n her head back and fro like a sword swallower
and McGee, who has one of them enormous Irish cocks, in fact
it is so wide that he had a green shamrock tattooed on it when
he was drunk in the service.
<br>
“Yeah, that was a ballsy thing to do, must have hurt like
hell but he said he was so drunk he couldn’t feel a thing.
Said they used a small needle or somethin.”
<br>
Anyway, she keeps a suck’en and he’s a moan’en and then that
gal starts hum’ men the Star Spangle Banner and McGee when
he hears the stains of that tune he automa-tic-ally starts
to jump up to salute, and the gal she just grabs him by the
legs to calms him down and says, ”\
<br>
“Your already up honey, ” as she reaches out and sticks
her finger right up his ass and just keeps hum’ men and suck’en
till she gets to that part about “the rockets red glare”
and McGee lets loose with enough cum that she nearly chokes,
but she manages to swallow it down, which is a good thing
as I didn’t want that stuff stink’en up the Hummer.
<br>
Just about then some guy with a red hat starts tap’en on my
window next to the driver’s seat. I turn the key a notch and
push the button and the window drops about six inches, and
that son of a bitch sticks his arm and hand hold’en a .22 revolver
through the open window and shouts, “Ah Cherie, you can
stop that now.”
<br>
And Cherie looks up and sees her pal as I reverse the electric
window and it cranks up in a flash and catches his arm as I
grab the revolver and snap it backward. He’s scream’en
like a French Nun, I guess I broke one of his fingers. I reached
into my pocket and pulled out my .44 magnum with the short
nose. Still bending back his fingers with my left hand,
I tap the window button with the nose of the revolver and
the window starts roll’en down and I say, just matter of
fact, sort a like that Crockophile Doomsday,
<br>
“You know Wally, the one who was always put’en the fish on
the barby, ”
<br>
“I sez, You think that is a pistol Mister?”
<br>
“No this is a pistol, ” and I pull the trigger and that .44
cal. cartridge explodes the noise is so deafening the sun
of a bitch faints, but the bullet went right thru his red
hat and set his hair on fire. So he’s lay’en there, stretched
out on the black top with his hair a smolder’en and I calmly
step out of the Hummer, off that big metal step, unzip my
fly and start pee’n on his head until I put the fire out. I
sort’a felt like old Paul Bunyan.”
<br>
McGee look out the window, see what’s happened and says
to Cherie, “Babe I think it is time for you to leave.”
<br>
“Does that mean you are not going to give me any money, ”
says Cherie
<br>
“You got that right, ” says McGee who gives her a kick in
the ass as she is climb’en out that sends her sprawling across
the park’en lot.
<br>
About this time the lot is beginning to get filled with persons
attracted to the commotion. I look up at McGee and say,
“I think it is time to get back on the road, ” and within the
next five minutes we back in the traffic the interstate
headed to California.
<br>
McGee is feel’en good see’en that his load is lightened
and I’m feel’en good cause kick’en ass always makes me feel
good, but I can feel my face is turn’en red.
<br>
Hey McGee, give me one of them blood pressure pills buddy,
I think I could use one myself about now
<br>
And McGee is looken a little quizzical, so I ask him if he
is alright.
<br>
“GrabMe, says he, I think that gal left her finger up my ass.”
<br>
So I pull over at the next exit and McGee gets out and goes
over to the bushes where he drops his pants and reaches back.
A minute or so later he’s dressed and in the cab and we are
back on the road and he’s hold’en one of the miniature pocket
rockets with a string on it and it’s still a buzzing, till
he puts down his window and flings it out into the starry
night that has engulfed us.
<br>
“A pocket rocket? Fats, that’s one of those mini-vibrators
that the ladies carry around with them these days. No Pedro
I do not intend to buy one for Renee, at least not a miniature
one.”
<br>
Thought you would like that Fats.”
<br>
<br>
Anyway we kept on driven west from Louisiana, a damn long
drive through southwest Texas, past the short leg of New
Mexico, across Arizona and into California. We picked
up my cousin George just past the Nevada border line, and
headed out into the Mohave.
<br>
Now, we get to the crux of the story; it seems Georgie had
got him some old map out of some box of old letters he’d bought
at a swap meet. Since these here letters were in German,
the seller had no idea of what they was about. My cousin is
a stamp collector and he knew from the post marks that they
were a packet of letters from 1935 to 1948. When he found
a map in one of the envelopes his interest was piqued.
<br>
“That means intensified, Wilber. No, it don’t mean the
tip of a mountain, but you might have somethin there.”
<br>
“My cousin’s wife knew a bit of German, her family being
Dutch and with a dictionary…..”
<br>
“No, Fatty I did not say a Dictaphone. Why are you joking
about that? Oh I see, you remember that story. OK.”
<br>
Move’n right along. So between the dictionary and one of
the translating programs on the computer, which by the
way most ain’t worth a shit, they was able to figure out that
this was a correspondence some old gal had with her teenage
son who was staying in some sort of Bundesbundt Camp out
in the desert.
<br>
“Yeah Pedro, that is some sort of Naz-zi youth camp. Well
you’d be surprised how many of them Naz-zis was hid out here,
all over the damn place. They had camps and sabotagers inside
and outside of every big city. In fact they discovered a
Naz-zi submarine just recently that sunk off the coast
of California, was sent here to shoot up San Francisco or
was it Los Angeles?”
<br>
Well anyway, the last letter was returned undelivered,
so it was George’s guess that the group was disbanded after
the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor or there about.
<br>
“Yeah, Fatty I know old Hashimoto’s dad was plucked out’a
town and sent out to a concentration camp out in the Mohave.
Good point.”
<br>
Yeah, that was a real disgust’ in thing to do to a good American,
don’t make not matter that he was Japanese, that family
was the first in line at the polling booth comes every election.
That there Hashimoto family has been here in America since
the 1870’s when the great grandfathers came over to work
on the transcontinental railroad. I discussed that a lot
with the old timers when I was a kid, but that is a story for
some other time.
<br>
They is some of the finest people I ever knowed. I only wish
they had had a few more girl’s in that family ‘cause anyone
who married into that family is blessed. Real fine family
folks, and their son is the finest doctors I ever seen. but
we’ll talk about them another time cause I got this story
I’m tell’en you now all the way up to the Mohave and you guys
is slow’en me down to a snail’s pace maker.
<br>
Now the map in the envelope was pretty well drawn and showed
the Bundesbundt camp and what the map labeled as a “goldverkomen”
that’s German for gold mine. Now George was able to go up
to Sacrament and according to the land office claims division,
that area did have an active mine back in the 1880’s but there
was no information as to whether it was fully mined out or
just forgotten.
<br>
George said, “There is little chance that it was forgotten,
but it would be interesting to see an abandoned mine as it
was worked before the century. In addition, George’s translation
of the kid’s letters to his mom indicated that each kid had
to spend one day a week with a pickaxe, puling nuggets out
of the mine walls, So it was possible that there was some
gold left after all.
<br>
When we got up around Baker, California, which is famous
for the Butt Boy, I mean Bun Boy restaurant, we got us a sandwich
and a bag of chips. They also have the world’ biggest thermometer
there which if any of you have someone you don’t have a hanker’en
for, you just tell them to go out to Baker and stick it up their
ass. That mother is about ten feet long, I got me a photo of
it if you don’t believe me.
<br>
I should mention that that was a year of heavy rainfall,
I mean real heavy, and the desert was a’ bloom with yellow
flowers all along the highway, and these yellow flower
were being suckled by yellow butterflies, so not only was
the desert yellow with flowers but it was a fluttering with
butterflies. They say that the plants can hibernate for
years in the sandy soil and then come alive in a few days if
there is rain fall.
<br>
The Hummer being yellow must have looked like a giant flower
and sad to say hundreds of butterflies collided with us
as we made our way thru the desert, stopping constantly
to clean the windshield. And you can’t just water that stuff
off cause there is pollen and guts and well I don’t think
anyone is interested in those details.
<br>
Once we got off the freeway we took small roads out of Baker,
past rock piles and into the sandy desert. There is a vision
there that I ain’t ever seen nowhere else, small surrealistic
mountains and what looks like lakes from a distance but
is really one of them mirages they are always talk’en about
in the comic books. You keep driven and you think you are
going to get to the shore of a blue foggy sea and when you get
there it is all sand.
<br>
We followed the compass headings and soon we was on gravel
roads which the Hummer took with ease, a few hours later
the roads turned to wind worn ruts and assorted garbage
dumplings, I mean dumpings, and we were using compass headings
alone to try to find our way over dust and dirt roads that
seemingly were untraversed in many many years. Fortunately
the Hummer took it all in stride, though we had to make a slow
go of it, you cannot drive over 15 miles per hour on this sort
of medium. I had to hit that button on the dash board that
raise the cab two inches higher and lock in the traney to
get over some big trees that had uprooted and abandoned
out there for God knows what reason.
<br>
“No Waldo, I am not talk’en about no traney-transsexual
, I’m talk’en about that special transmission on the Hummer
that lets you dig in and go over things that are a little taller
than the wheel height, which reminds me of that story one
of the shop keepers told me, ‘bout two crooks who robbed
a 21-11 store and the owner took off after them in his Hummer
and ran right over their car, the poo-leece had to cut them
crooks out of their car with those jaws of life.”
<br>
Anyway, there wasn’t no trees around them parts ‘sept some
scrub pines and mesquite but them stuff is not tall timbers
by a long shot.
I didn’t think much about it at the time, driven over them
big toppled trees, but someone was send’en us a message
to keep out.
<br>
Just before night fall we arrive at the parameters that
the map coordinates called for and then we drove over a rise
where to our astonishment, there in the middle of nowhere,
we could see several long Quonset huts spread out in the
moonlight, just like in the map drawing and looked as if
they were long abandoned.
<br>
We stopped, and got out to stretch our legs and broke camp
on the out skirts of the clear’en. We set up a tent for all
our supplies, figuring we would do the exploration in the
morning. We had a good charcoal grilled steak dinner, taters
on the side and a case of beer.
<br>
“I know we missed a part of the food py-ra-mide, Wally; but
I ain’t crazy ‘bout vegetables, especially on a camp’en
trip.”
<br>
Fortunately we had bought plenty supplies before we left
civilization, include’en a bottle of Jack to sweeten the
taste. It was one of those nights when the stars is a twinkl’en
and the moon is just about indivisible.
<br>
“That’s a mathematical term Fats.”
<br>
Now we knew the desert could be dangerous, with all the drug
dealers and the “Coyotes” who shepard undocumented workers
across the desert at night. So we each took turns guarding
the camp with the AK-47, I always carried in the Hummer.
McGee took the late night shift, from 2AM to 6AM but that
son of a bitch must’a fallen back to sleep. I could feel him
kind’s elbowing me around 4AM, but when I awoke it wasn’t
McGee’s elbow.
<br>
As I opened my eyes I saw the world through a grey mesh, someone
had covered us with a micromesh that the trappers use to
catch game alive. We couldn’t move more that a half inch
or so, and that was a strain. We came to, all at once ‘cause
where there had been darkness before, now we were lit by
one of them big old fashioned aircraft search lights that
looked like something from the 1930’s. Although the light
was so bright that we were nearly blinded, as our eyes adjusted
we realized that our captors were all woman and they were
dressed in some sort on Naz-zi outfits.
<br>
Among them selves they spoke only German, a high pitched
guttural shouting that scared the shit out of us. McGee
was crying like a baby.
<br>
I felt for my front pocket where my .44 revolver should have
been, but my pocket was empty. Then, what must have been
their leader, literally walked across the net and stood
on top of us.
<br>
“Vell my fine gentleman Vat bringens you to meine kampfe(our
camp). You thought you vas going to find da lust gold mind
(lost gold mine), maybe?” and then she began to laugh, “
Haaaaaaaaahahahahahaaahahhhahaaha.(German accented
laugh)”
<br>
Scared the shit out of us, all over again. We were too surprised
to even answer.
<br>
“Vell meine herren (Well my good men), for you vee have a
suss-prize (surprise).You are not going to take nothing
from us. Vee are going to take something da from you.”
<br>
“Vee have been her vaiting (waiting) for der Fuehrer to
take us beck to Chermnany. But meine Herren, di years auf
been long and menchen ist tot. (the years have been long
and the men are all dead) From you vee need to take da seed
for to keep our selbses(selves) alive.”
<br>
“You vil not talk, not eine verd (not a word). If zu spreck,
(you
speak) you vil die.”
<br>
What happened during the next ten hours embarrasses me
to even think about and is upsetting to repeat to you. Women
dressed in SS uniforms surrounded us, they first cut the
mesh over our privates parts and used razors to slit off
our pants and with harsh gloved hands roughly exposed our
sexual organs. I was sure they were going to castrate us.
<br>
One by one, naked woman came out of the darkness. As the Herr
Doktor, I figured she was a doctor or something, inspected
our penises and evidently found them acceptable. She cleaned
them with the rankest alcohol and used a large brush to paint
some iodine tincture over the hair around our cocks and
balls, as if to disinfect us. Then a parade of naked women
approached us. They came and knelt over us, and forced us
to copulate with them.
<br>
First came the young ones, some little more that teenager.
Then the older ones, perhaps in their twenties and thirties,
smacking us and prodding us into having erections, “ficken
ficken, bumsen, durchficken, poppen, rammeln” (all German
words for fuck) they shouted. For the first two hours they
ravished themselves upon us. Kneeling over us and inserting
out sweet breads into their ovens. When they finally left
us alone for a few minutes, we were exhausted from the terrible
experience.
<br>
Assuming our ordeal was over, we fell asleep only to be prodded
by kicks when they returned. They forced our mouths open
and put crude gourd like funnels into them. Then they poured
unpleasant tasting blue colored medicines down our throats.
We lay there embarrassingly flaccid, we couldn’t keep
erect, and lo and behold a half hour later out dicks rose
up like a field of crosses and more women arrived who quickly
impaled themselves upon us. McGee and George matched me
fuck for fuck and when we shouted they slapped us into silence.
<br>
Only McGee, that worthless baby still had to shout out,
“If this erection lasts more that four hours please call
me a doctor.”
<br>
Many were virgins and as you might expect, their blood ran
down our thighs and covered us. Gnats and mosquitoes, attracted
by the blood began to feast on it and bite us as well. For several
more hours, at least four or maybe a little longer we endured
what no man should ever endure, and I must say with great
shame and embarrassment, that after this most horrible
experience, that after this demeaning sexist exploitation,
after what I feared would alter and diminish my sex life
for ever after, after these terrible Herculean exertions
that we only performed under fear of imminent death, that
without doubt or hesitation, when I think back on the pain,
the agony, the total humiliation I can assert with out any
fear of contradiction, that those terrible moments in
the Mohave desert comprised what for me was the greatest
night of my entire life.
<br>
The next day, they permitted us to leave, but first they
destroyed our maps so it would be impossible to ever return
to their desert sanctuary. I grabbed a few stones and some
sand hoping that a geologist might be able to pinpoint the
area in the future, but even that memento was taken from
me before they freed us. One of the uniformed Naz-zi girls
drove the Hummer out of the hidden valley and only a hour
later did they take off our blindfolds and they kept our
compasses. They pointed the way back to the highway before
disappearing into the dark and windy desert night.
<br>
Just before freeing us, the beautiful blond who had commandeered
the Hummer, I still remember the halter she wore that hardly
covered her freckled breast and beautiful nipple that
popping out as she shifter her weight from boot to boot.
She told us that they were leaving for Brazil within the
next two years and that if we told anyone about our adventure
they would hunt us down where ever we were in the world and
kill us in the most painful way imaginable.
<br>
They departed with a snappy salute. “Heil Himler” and before
I could correct them, they were gone. We could here them
sing’n that Fig Newton song, “Ralph Weider’s Dame as they
drove off. Yeah, that same one Wayne used to sing when he
was a kid on the Ed Solomon Show Sunday nights.
<br>
Well, that was the end of our trip ‘sept for a few days at George’s
place where we gathered strength to return to our homes.
We took an oath to keep the story of our misadventure silent
for three years, and three years has passed. So don’t ask
me no questions cause I ain’t getting into any more detail.
But there is one thing I can tell you, these Naz-zi woman
had a man slave, and for some reason, I guess close bloodlines,
they refused to copulate with him, and that poor bastard
stood to the side with chains on his shoulders and arms watching
as we were forcibly and orally copulated to keep us
on the ready. Just before we were blindfold for the journey
out, one of the girls whispers in my ear, “for heem vee haf
eine zwergziege” which when I looked up the word in my old
college German dictionary means “dwarf goat.”
<br>
I must confess that when I passed the travel agency on Front
Street the other day, I did go in and ask for a copy of a travel
brochure for Brazil, like the one they had in the outside
window. You know they have a Carnival in Rio that must really
be somethin else, now that New Orleans is off the map for
a while, I’m think’en of heading down there for a vacation
one of these days, might even make a cruise of it so’s I could
take the Hummer with me.
<br>
What do you say boys? Any takers?



Lighten up folks--sex in the after life?
is that what our wives r wait'n for!

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Hey Grabme, say it isn't so. You are leaving the website?
I will miss your stories. You have written the best stuff
I have read on this website. Of course my favorite is about
Mr. Hardon and the goat. lol
<br>

Come back soon.

9/20/2005

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Every “artiste” deserves a critic, and you dear sir has
certainly exceeded my quota. Non-the-less your articulate
dissection is appreciated.
<br>
In relation to the fictional “Mr. Hardon, ” in response
to your questions, he is based on a high school teacher whose
real name was Harden, who besides being extremely intelligent
was arrested recently on charges of bestiality. Those
interested in contributing to his defense fund may send
their opinions (no money please, the sob is quite well offed)
to The Honorable Johnny Cockroach Esq. , Travermore Cemetery,
Montigua, Ivanhoe 981729.
<br>
Now surprisingly I must direct your attention to two other
references of the “goat marauder;” one in the final lines
of GrabMe Fucks a Mermaid and another in the sexual fantasy
of Grabmetwice’s profile. Knowing your thoroughness,
it is quite possible I am guilty of redundancy if not truancy.
<br>
Thanks again for you perceptive incisiveness and laudatory
explications. I will try to limit such references where
humanely possible. Please continue to leave your comments
when you believe we your humble servants merit your attentions.
<br>
By the way, GrabMe sends his best as does his sister, sexual
freak that she is, please pay no attention to her preferences.
<br>
In the immoral words of Chief Squatting Bull, after the
incident at Little Big Horney, as addressed to General
Custard, “Pie Face, Now is time for piece of pipe!”
<br>
Dear Mr. header
<br>
Every “artiste” deserves a critic, and you dear sir have
certainly exceeded my quota. Non-the-less your articulate
dissection is appreciated.
<br>
In relation to the fictional “Mr. Hardon, ” in response
to your questions, he is based on a high school teacher whose
real name was Harden, who besides being extremely intelligent
was arrested recently on charges of bestiality. Those
interested in contributing to his defense fund may send
their opinions (no money please, the sob is quite well offed)
to The Honorable Johnny Cockroach Esq. , Travermore Cemetery,
Montigua, Ivanhoe 981729.
<br>
Now surprisingly I must direct your attention to two other
references of the “goat marauder;” one in the final lines
of "GrabMe Fucks a Mermaid" and another in the
sexual fantasy of Grabmetwice’s profile. Knowing your
thoroughness, it is quite possible I am guilty of redundancy
if not truancy.
<br>
Thanks again for you perceptive incisiveness and laudatory
explications. I will try to limit such references where
humanely possible. Please continue to leave your comments
when you believe we your humble servants merit your attentions.
<br>
By the way, GrabMe sends his best as does his sister, sexual
freak that she is, please pay no attention to her preferences.
<br>
In the immoral words of Chief Squatting Bull, after the
incident at Little Big Horney, as addressed to General
Custard, “Pie Face, Now is time for piece of pipe!”



Lighten up folks--sex in the after life?
is that what our wives r wait'n for!

9/21/2005

Members can vote on this response!

Guess it is time for double or nothing? There must be a God
in heaven, he doubled by verbosity!



Lighten up folks--sex in the after life?
is that what our wives r wait'n for!

9/21/2005

Members can vote on this response!

Thank you, Grabmetwice.
<br>
I consider myself more of a fan than a critic. I save everything
you write. Give my regards to your sister. Keep on truckin',
dude.

9/21/2005

Members can vote on this response!

LMAO.... I will definitely GrabMe a piece of the pie on this
one ~wink~

9/22/2005

Members can vote on this response!

Dear Grabme, It is a shame that only in this late hour do I
discover you. The archives will be your legacy. I bid you
fair hunting, Viking

9/22/2005