K7SGJ
03-08-2014, 02:53 PM
I really feel bad for my cute little contract postal delivery chick.
I heard all this commotion the other day, and jumped on my horse to get out to the street to see what was going on. I hit the ground with a terrible thud, and that's when I realized, I don't have horses. So, since the chickens are still too small to ride, I walked out there instead. Sitting on the rear deck of her SUV, was the cutie that delivers our mail. She was shaking violently and mumbling something incoherently. I sat down next to her, put my arm around her, and let her cry on my shoulder. This, of course was arousing in and of itself.
After she had calmed down a little, I asked her what was wrong. She grabbed a package and gingerly shook it. It started talking. She looked at me and said "that asshole friend of yours in Alabama mailed you a live redneck midget". As I gently stroked her cheek and gently brushed my lips across hers, I whispered, "not even that bastid is that crazy". It was then she begged me to rip it open, and get some fresh air to the little person inside.
Fearing she might be right, I carefully broke the seal on the package, and opened the flaps on the box. There, inside, was a humanoid shape, wrapped up in mini bubble wrap. All kind of things ran through my mind. Was this a neighbor kid that pissed him off, the paperboy that pitched the Sunday rag through his front window, an unwanted child? Holy hell. Oh the humanity.
By now, the cute little mail chick had passed out in my lap, which was nice, too, but I digress. (and dream) I carefully unwrapped the mini bubble wrap, and there, there was something I'd always wanted, but never managed to have. Yes, my very own, battery operated, moving-talking
RED NECK DRINKING BUDDY
WOOT!
11862
All I have to do is push the button, and one of several witty phrases spoken in a southern drawl comes out of his moving mouth. Like most Alabamans, it's really hard to understand what the hell he is saying.
The cute little mail chick had come to by now, and was fascinated, not. And, as she drove off I could hear her screaming "I'm going to quite this damn route". I ran after her exclaiming "but, but, but can you take a package for me? It's going to Alabama. I'm not sure what she said as her SUV disappeared in a cloud of dust, but it sounded like Fuck Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.
I love it when she talks dirty to me.
I heard all this commotion the other day, and jumped on my horse to get out to the street to see what was going on. I hit the ground with a terrible thud, and that's when I realized, I don't have horses. So, since the chickens are still too small to ride, I walked out there instead. Sitting on the rear deck of her SUV, was the cutie that delivers our mail. She was shaking violently and mumbling something incoherently. I sat down next to her, put my arm around her, and let her cry on my shoulder. This, of course was arousing in and of itself.
After she had calmed down a little, I asked her what was wrong. She grabbed a package and gingerly shook it. It started talking. She looked at me and said "that asshole friend of yours in Alabama mailed you a live redneck midget". As I gently stroked her cheek and gently brushed my lips across hers, I whispered, "not even that bastid is that crazy". It was then she begged me to rip it open, and get some fresh air to the little person inside.
Fearing she might be right, I carefully broke the seal on the package, and opened the flaps on the box. There, inside, was a humanoid shape, wrapped up in mini bubble wrap. All kind of things ran through my mind. Was this a neighbor kid that pissed him off, the paperboy that pitched the Sunday rag through his front window, an unwanted child? Holy hell. Oh the humanity.
By now, the cute little mail chick had passed out in my lap, which was nice, too, but I digress. (and dream) I carefully unwrapped the mini bubble wrap, and there, there was something I'd always wanted, but never managed to have. Yes, my very own, battery operated, moving-talking
RED NECK DRINKING BUDDY
WOOT!
11862
All I have to do is push the button, and one of several witty phrases spoken in a southern drawl comes out of his moving mouth. Like most Alabamans, it's really hard to understand what the hell he is saying.
The cute little mail chick had come to by now, and was fascinated, not. And, as she drove off I could hear her screaming "I'm going to quite this damn route". I ran after her exclaiming "but, but, but can you take a package for me? It's going to Alabama. I'm not sure what she said as her SUV disappeared in a cloud of dust, but it sounded like Fuck Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.
I love it when she talks dirty to me.