[QUOTE=KagomJack]On my way to the strip club with all the dirty hoes of the world, my husband came running after me with a baseball bat because he is one jealous mother fucker. I began throwing all of my dollar bills at the strippers while they beat the shit out of a midget with glass pincers for hands. A mutated midget then saw my husband as he frantically milked a monkey for everything it had. The monkey kicked my husband in the family jewels. I thought I saw a spider so I screamed in a frightened manner. I reached at a jar full of dollar bills and began stuffing myself with a huge dildo. When I realized that I was actually stuffing myself with a rotten pickle. At this point I felt embarrassed beyond belief so I just took the pickle and ate it all. And that's why I'm here in the doctor's office puking and my genital area is bleeding and spewing pickle juice. And to top it all off my husband got killed, I DIDN'T GET LAID, and I'm pretty sure I have AIDS. So basically I think I'm going to kill myself.
Doctor Darth Vader came in and told me that he was going to use the Force to gank my mother with a tuba and a screwdriver. So I asked him, "Why are you so fucking ugly under your helmet?" and he started up the Force Lightning but instead said "Because I have so many different patients, I have to wear condoms before using the force." He then put a condom onto every single one of the stethoscopes in the office before placing the stethoscopes on firm, luscious boobies. He didn't want the milk to leak so he taped the nipples up. I sat there in shock before shoving a titanicly huge dagger into his frontal lobe. But then I remembered something...I'm dreaming! I'm actually in the quaint Silent Hill.
I decided that I'm going to head off to the strip club and get some pussy in a can. First I have to go see Kagom and the Village People. I really like how Kagom wasn't there. Meant more furry sex and love for myself, King_Amazon! Now I needed to run away as fast as I could with a penis pump hanging off my nipple. It didn't hurt then, but when it tugged on . . .
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