01-17-2013, 01:42 PM
Join Date: Jan 2001
Location: St. Louis
Originally Posted by Cracka Ass Crackuh
I took a girl out once. I showed up at her house about 15 minutes late. I knew she wouldn't be ready so I figured I had some extra time to rub one out in the Kroger parking lot before heading to her house.
Well she was right on time and had been waiting outside for 20 minutes in the rain. Not really my problem. I mean, she DOES have windows in her house.
I pulled up and beeped the horn. She came running out. Perhaps me parking in the front of the house where there was no sidewalk but yet a yard of mud was suggestionally a bad idea rather than pulling into the driveway but I digress, the car was already in gear so why put it in reverse?
It might have helped that I would have unlocked the door before hand..... might have also helped if she didn't pull on the f**king handle when I tried to unlock it. Might have also helped if I would have laid down plastic before she sat her wet ass all over my damn seat.
But when she got in, I was a gentleman. I turned down the P. Diddy song to half way and turned on the air for her. It was on the heater setting but I don't have heat so here she comes with the bitching. Listen wench, its raining. Bring a f**king jacket. I did.
So we got to the restaurant. I was highly dissatisfied the Olive Garden didn't have valet parking. I left a note in the comment box but hey, I let her drive the car that night. I feel bad I made her park it in the back where it wouldn't get door dinged. I also felt bad that I could see a gap between the tires and the curb and made her walk back to fix it. Honey, maybe wearing white wasn't a good idea when its f**king raining! Cute lacy undies though.
At this point though, I'm pissed. Because of her parking mishap, we are now stuck behind a party of black folk that were there for a family reunion. Oh great, now I have to wait at least 3 f**king hours to sit down. At least now we are in some warmth so she can thaw out. The sound of her teeth chattering was serioulsy ruining my concentration. How the f**k am I supposed to hit all three pigs with the motherf**king methamphetamine drummer boy sitting next to me.... And damn it, why the phuck are you trying to hold my hand?!?! You damn well know I need both thumbs. Plus, bitch got my t-shirt wet.
So we finally sit down. I felt bad she had to sit in the aisle but maybe people wouldn't hit the back of your chair on the way to the restroom if your ass wasn't so big. There was a girl two tables down that kept telling her friend Becky to look our way. Its called Weight Watchers, not 'lets see how many of these breadsticks I can fit in my bread basket'.
So the waitress comes around, I ordered my drink and requested a salad while numb nuts was still trying to dry off her shirt with a napkin. A NAPKIN! Bitch, this aint Burger King. I swear, no phucking table manners. She orders a salad. I secretly told the waitress to go easy on the salad dressing since fat ass is starting to get her own gravitational pull.
Well anyways, after a night of very little bit of conversation, my date had to go to the restroom. Thank goodness, I was getting sick and tired of her complaining about me updating my Facebook status with a countdown to when my date was going to have a heart attack. I made a note to fart in her pasta before she came back. Open ass, spray fart. Tired of your sh*t, here's mine.
As we ended dinner, the waitress brought the check. She handed it to me. All the food was on one ticket. Sh*t ho, this aint 1960, you bitches are liberated. Separate that sh*t. At this point I couldn't believe it. The skeeze across the table from me didn't even offer to put up a tip.... AND she ate one of the mints! Damn fat ass, don't you think you've consumed enough calories? I'm going to have to call a flat bed to roll your ass up on to and have you hauled to the house. I bet you are going to make me pay for that sh*t too, huh.
The night was almost over. Finally I can go home and play some COD.... but can you believe it, this skank wants me to drive her home. Bitch, this aint Cowboy Taxi and you aint Kim K. *sigh*. I walked out and got the car and picked her up at the front. Wouldn't you believe it, dumb bitch starts yanking on the handle AGAIN.
She didn't say much on the way home so I called a couple of my home bitches to see if they were down to lay pipe in the oil field since I was about to be free for the night.
I got my date home. I dropped her off at her house. She said it wasn't her house but I'm pretty sure it was in the same neighborhood. She got two legs she can walk. Lord knows her ass needs it.
Anyways, we're getting married next week. You guys are all invited.
Dam Cracka! I measured an yours is longeran mine. Looks as realistic too.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Oh Bob, It's So Big And Long!" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
\'96 BBB: SSRI, Herter Tune, Tri-Y II, SLP SS, 3000 Edge, F/HO bars, METCO extendeds, Bilsteins, currently Vredestein Ultrac Sessanta (315/35 rear)
\'95 FTSS: total mono gray, SSRI, Anthony tune, Aero catback/H/resonators, SS bars and coils, Hotchkis LCAs, Bilsteins/Airlift 1000, NL rear discs