Vibrating Honey Pot
2004-05-23 | 12:41 a.m.

The other day as I was getting ready to leave Ryan's apartment, his boyfriend Jon came over to me and in mock disdain informed me about how horrible of me it was to leave without making the lot of them some ass-kickin' enchiladas, which I am sometimes known to make. After gathering the three of them together and asking some questions I found out that, in his extreme joy that I was coming over, Ryan falsely promised Jon and the Jew that I would be making enchiladas. With all this coming to light we all looked at Ryan as the liar that he is, and he was sent to bed with a spanked bottom and no dessert. Just remember Ryan, Satan is the father of lies. You'd be good to remember that.

But while Satan is the father of lies, is he the father of doing things in spite of people just to piss them off? No, probably not. That role no doubt falls onto the shoulders of a lesser demon with big pointy teeth and fluffy bunny ears named "Roland" because really, who else but a hell bound demon would be named Roland?

So last night I paid homage to the dark lord Roland and thought it might be fun to make enchiladas for myself, Pete and Justin. Of course, my wicked plan went a few steps further and included me handing my cell phone over to Justin and having him call Ryan, chew into the phone loudly, utter a sigh of pure enchilada-induced pleasure, and then quickly hang up.

Of course this never happened because I was only just starting to fill the tortillas with Latin-meaty goodness when I heard my phone start ringing in the other room. And what name was it that popped up? Why, it was none other an "Disco The Kid". A shiver of excitement tumbled up and down my spine. I put the phone to my ear and breathed "Hello?" into my phone.

A voice positively dripping with sexual angst and groin-grinding rock & roll slithered into my ear. "Come to Brooklyn right now" I bit my lower lip in sheer delight. "Why?" I asked.

"Because," the ruggedly sultry voice went on "I'm in the backyard...with meat...and fire. And I've been drinking." Oh that did it for me. I cupped my hand over the part of my phone that you talk into and whispered to Justin, "Wanna go to Disco's?" he nodded and clapped his hands together like a small child and squealed in glee. Justin sure do love him some Disco. So after making ourselves prepared to dwell in the presence of greatness Justin, Pete and I made our way into Brooklyn to Doug's house.

I called when we were a block or so away. "I'll be the penis in the cowboy hat" he said lustily into the phone. I informed the boys to look out on the sidewalk for a tall, sexy, phallus of a man wearing a cowboy hat. When we spotted him, the temperature in the car rose suddenly as he lifted his t-shirt and exposed a rosy circle of areola love while we were parallel parking. We gasped at the brazen display of rakish charm but, one needs to be prepared to be titillated when Mr.TheKid is around.

We were whisked through his house, out through a back window into small patio with walls high enough to contain the undiluted sexual prowess of Disco, Mrs.TheKid, and Madame BoboFett. Oh what a night we had. Oh the conversations, oh the drinking!!! Actually we ran out of liquor because in my haste to get to Brooklyn I was gouache enough to fail to stop at a local liquor selling establishment and obtain vodka to donate to the orgy of secret drunken pleasures that were happening behind Disco's home. But before we could be lost in a heap of lips and limps, more friends showed doubt also drawn in by Disco's lusty siren call.

The evening came to a crescendo when we were joined, via the window, by none other than the Empress of Metal herself, EveRoboto and her ever charming consort, The Masked Mofo. Could the evening been any better? COULD IT?!?!?!?! Of course it could...Eve brought a cake.


And for anyone out there who was wondering, Ms.Fett informed me that I had a "sexy man smell" that she greatly appreciated. Ooooh Yeah.

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