Juicin’ For The Future
You know something, boys and girls. Doc is sad. No. Doc is angry. No. Doc is sad and angry. Why? Because Doc don’t make nobody wet.
See. I’ve been all over these Internets (And who would have thunk there really were more than one Internets. Bush, you are a fuckin’ genius.) and Doc has seen some really strange shit. Everywhere I turn, beyotches are proclaiming their wetness in weblog, comment, and forum posts. And I’ve read that there’s this dude that gives beyotches orgasm through the fuckin’ telephone wires. I’ve also read how beyotches find that they have to rub themselves raw while reading other dude’s blog posts. And I’m wondering, how come Doc don’t make beyotches’ cootchies wet?
I’m a peaceful, smart brother with a good head on his shoulders. I speak honestly and forthright. I love the beyotches, and their cootchies. Why don’t I give chicks orgasms through these Internet wires? How come these freaky chicks don’t read my shit and get moist between the legs? Is it because I’m a misogynist pig, who has seemingly shown nothing but utter contempt for the female sex on his site? Is it because I use beyotch all the time? Is it because I come off like some hermit-like asshole who hates everything good and honest in the world.
By the way I heard that Rick Scheoder said that country music exemplifies everything good in American. I wonder why real white music exemplifies everything good about America, and really black music exemplifies everything filthy and dirty about our great nation? Why is that?
Anyway. I forgot where I was. Oh yeah. Beyotches wet pussy. I ask every woman who will ever come across this weblog to forgive me. Although I doubt many women will. I get a lot of hits for naked women, like Playboy models, and Patricia Heaton. I did find one weird link in my site stats. It was a google search for Scott Petersen naked. I literally did a spit take when I saw that shit. Esther Baxter, Amy Sue Cooper, even Patricia Heaton (By the way, she has a nice pair on her old ass. I’d do her.), but fuckin’ Scott Petersen. That search must have been made by one of those crazy groupie prison beyotches. You know, the ones they say be sending lettters to dudes behind bars, which is the same exact kind of admiration I’m looking forward.
But I can’t get that shit because I’m not clean and successful like a good Christian man should be. And I’m not dirty enough like a filthy ass gangbangin’ thug should be. See, beyotches, I’m normal. I’m an in-between man, meaning I’m always trying to get in between them thighs. Ha-Ha. Just kidding, beyotches.
Let me explain it further. I wish I was a better human being, but I’m not. I wish I was successful, but I’m not. What I am is a man who has never cheated on a woman, even though I thought about it. And I’ve never smacked a woman, though I’ve been close on occasion. Hell, in real life, I very seldom curse. I just do it under my breath a lot. And I very seldom ever call women, beyotches. Although I do use chick a lot.
In fact, I call my male friends beyotches more than I call women that shit. I literally walk in the room and say, What up, beyotches. And I normally get a What up, beyotch back, or I get a lazy fuck you. And we go about our shit. I wish I had a cleaner vocabulary, but my word count only reaches about 10,000 words, which is why I say fuck and shit a lot. It covers up for not knowing crap. Also, add crap to that list.
But that ignorance isn’t my fault. In true victimization mode, I’d rather blame the shitty school system. Fuck you, shitty school system. If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be banging a big bootied model chick right now. And I’d also like to blame, uh, rap music. Yeah, rap music. That shit’s been sullying my mind since I was a pre-teen. And I bet from listening to all that Too Short and Schooly D and Ice T and NWA, I’ve learned to use beyotch like it was the or but. Shit. If it wasn’t for rap music I’d probably be an upstanding, female loving Baptist. But because of it and rock music, I’m just straight up fucked.
And that’s why I need all you beyotches, I mean, women to show a brother some love. Because without it, I’d probably stay this way forever. And that’s a bad thing. And to do that, I need all the women’s cootchies to collectively get wet for me. I need to feed off that universal wetness, to suck up all that cootchieness deep within my heart.
Now, you might say that you could just send me a card, or a nice email, or leave a sweet comment on my blog. But see, that shit won’t work on a brother like me because I’m fucked up. A fucked up man can only understand fucked up things. I’ve been conditioned to see women’s love and worth through their cootchie, titties and ass.
It’s what every young man learns everyday when they watch Rap City or check out MTV Jams or watch BET Uncut. A woman don’t love a nigga unless she’s pushing that ass and titty in his face. And that’s how I’ve been conditioned. You don’t love me unless you’re willing to get naked for me. I know that shit ain’t right. And I wish there was a better way. But goddammit, there ain’t. And girls, I just don’t have that much time. Before long, like I stated before, I’ll be stuck this way.
And that’s why I need you all to get naked, preferably right now, and think long and hard about a brother, preferably me, and get yourselves juicin’ really good, preferably in the crotch area, like cry me a river type juicin’, a fuckin’ river runs through it type juicin’. Because, in the end, you’ll be doing it for America, for the entire human race, and possibly, for all life within the universe.
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