On a long-overdue alcohol run to the local supermarket, I happened to spy an oddity clad in a green flower-covered sundress. Somewhat large, and in her late forties, she was accompanied by children that must have been produced fairly late in the life cycle of her womanhood. I can only imagine that my treacherous eyes singled out this particular undesirable due to her completely ridiculous hairstyle. Rather than a typical dye job of blonde atop a thin strip of black roots, she had a half & half mixture that was seemingly the product of laziness or a visually impaired hairdresser. It was like one of those half chocolate/half vanilla ice cream cones from my childhood, only far less appetizing.
Perhaps it was due to a certain analytical curiosity, or more likely, my inebriated state of mind, but I stood outside of the supermarket and pondered her completely idiotic choices in life. But I stood there, bags of liquor in hand, watching traffic go by, and felt somewhat bad about my train of thought. Perhaps this woman had chosen this hairstyle in an attempt to appear more youthful and carefree. Or another option, this may have been an attempt on her part to obfuscate her less appealing features, namely her face. I hadn’t taken a look at her ring hand, for fear of my dick never again heeding my call to action, but I could imagine her trolling the singles bars at night… hoping to attract a new temporary father figure for her potentially obnoxious (and possibly bastardized) children.
It was at this point, lost in my train of thought, that I turned my head and found myself face to face (mere inches away) with the object of my mental pause.
Unfortunately, I had turned my head to let out a viciously large and somewhat appalling belch.
HahaThat is the funniest fucking thing I’ve read in a while.
:-|Sitting next to a cradle of fresh Dion apples at the Giran dock, Pommo’s thoughts slipped back into the evening battle when Gracia troops had made landfall here long time ago. Unconsciously his right hand moved to find the pommel of his sword… and remembered that his sword and armor have since been stored away. \”Ah, days of war and chaos are long gone,\” he said to himself. Now only prosperity and peace could be found across the land. As he moved his hand back, Kragg shot him a curious look. Unlike Pommo, Kragg was still wary of everything, holding to the belief that an even larger war is coming. That was why Pommo’s usual advice to anyone was not to spook Kragg, as that stocky Dwarf should not be messed with. A moment later Kragg relaxed himself and took a bite into one of the Dion apples, and then a mouthful of beer. Dwarves don¡¯t like the idea of crossing the ocean.Out in the water, a fleet of fishing boats were returning, trailing nets behind them. The boat to Talking Island would arrive anytime now, along with the chance to show Pommo’s friend Kyleran what could possibly be the next best drink ever known to Elf kind or mankind: Fungus Juice.As a matter of fact, the discovery was purely an accident. While searching for the Spore Fungus, Pommo came across a new type of fungus near the Elven Forest. This new fungus was smaller in size, and attacked enemies by spraying poisonous spores. Commonly known fungus fluids are all poisonous. However, the extracted fluid from this fungus, when mixed with small amount of water and honey, gave anyone who drank it a special boost of energy. Pommo found it helps him focus. Best of all, it had no after taste! Not to mention that the Ents loved it as well.Standing up and taking a deep breath of the salty sea air as the passenger boat was about to dock, Pommo was eager to show his friend the plan to turn this drink into a health drink for the Elven masses. Everyone knew that Kyleran, one of the most famous spirits tasters west of Aden Castle Town, had a taste for mysterious potions. It might take years, or hundreds of years, for it to be popular. But the Elf has a longer lifespan and so time is not a factor to him. While Pommo was lost in his thoughts once again, Kragg took the opportunity to smack Pommo on the head. ¡°Hurry up you slow wit elf! Always daydreaming about that worthless mushroom juice of yours,¡± he said to Pommo with a smile. Without saying a word, Pommo patted him on the shoulder and boarded the boat. Among all his friends, Kragg and Omega were his foremost critics. According to them, beer is the only miracle drink known to all races, especially Dwarf and Orc, and surely no one will like to drink the juice of fungus!Well, even if the plan failed, at least the Ents would have a new drink to enjoy.As the boat started to set sail, Pommo turned back toward the dock and shouted, ¡°Love and Peace!¡±
HmmmCareful, she could’ve taken it as a compliment.
Could be worseWorse than a compliment. she could have taken it as a mating call.
[email protected]@badassmofo.com
[email protected]
bellota
[email protected]-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printableContent-Type: text/htmlSubject: bacon andbcc: [email protected] due to the usef10c6222b0dbaa47f10cce0bc78bebd6.