Thursday, February 10, 2011

A Bad Orgasm

Sometimes in life, life throws you a bad orgasm. This is a story of that.

1982. Barcelona, Kansas. The bar stinks like a cheap skunk, but the patrons are plentiful. I am sipping an opaque martini. It is the town drink. It is called 'Darkness'. It tastes how it sounds.

Suddenly an urge comes over me. The urge is to purge. I make my way to the bathroom like a fireman down a pole and piss thick yellow all over the wall of the urinal. The fiery splashback stings my mitts. The steam rises off the waterfall like souls passing to heaven. I am instantly hard.

I begin stroking my meat sword. After a few pumps, the spermatozoa are ready. But I am still streaming saintly saffron from my urethra. What would happen if I orgasmed during?

I declare 'fuck it' and let myself cum. Bad idea. The sea men mix with the lemonade, causing them to fuse together. I now have a hard icicle connecting me to the urinal. I rip at the icicle to break it, but cannot. I bite at it. No avail. I am stuck. Stuck forever.

I am now a staple at the bar. Just like that godforsaken drink. Come see me. I sign autographs. My name is Urinal Penis Man, but you probably already know that.