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I've been called sexy

Doctor Coom

Doctor Coom

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satanssockpuppet

satanssockpuppet

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QuattroStento said:
The only thing keeping him mobile is the alcohol and pills numbing his elderly aches and pains. He couldn't stop drinking even if he wanted to.
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My old man had a friend we called Uncle Buddy. Polack, mid 50s, fat, face was always all red, drank like a fish. An all day, every day boozer. Buddy had a heart attack and landed in the hospital for a few weeks, where he temporarily dried out for the first time. He looked like total death, like his entire personality and soul had been torn away, leaving nothing but an empty, withered shell. If he wasn't drunk, he wasn't anything at all. He started up again not long after and made it for another few years until the cancer got him.

You can see it with Nana too. Always all drunk and fake happy, hooting and guffawing like a retard, just meandering through life in a beer-drenched haze. One day he'll be forced to stop and he'll age fifteen years overnight, and be even more disturbing and ghoulish than he is now.
 
Ladynyahh

Ladynyahh

The Hasidic Homeboy
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satanssockpuppet said:
After slipping on his ladies shoes, Andy Espresso admired his reflection in the full length mirror. "I've been called thexyyyyyyy" he lisped seductively to himself, his cratered, booze-sodden face a mask of hideous lust and unbridled depravity. Andy began vamping and prancing about the room with his hands on his hips in an exaggerated, swishy manner. "You all just hate how happy I am and how much FUN I'm having!" he purred. Sashaying his way to the bed, Andy then leaned over and creakily attempted to twerk, swiveling his hips back and forth in an almost spastic manner. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. "That's right, you're a puss slayer, aren't you, big boy!" he cooed to himself.

Suddenly Andy heard a loud crack and felt a sharp pain radiate through his neck and shoulders. "Uh oh, hahahaHAholeeeeeshit! OWWWW! Your mother's cunt!" Andy groaned. His vitamin D depleted bones and withered, atrophied muscles finally gave way, and Andy was stuck, unable to move, in a nightgown and high heels, with his ass in the air. His beard would be home at any moment. How would he explain his way out of THIS one?
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You've got a real knack for creative writing @satanssockpuppet ... I can picture Nana's gyrations and flitting about in my head. Ever try writing science fiction? Reading some of Pat's garbage makes me think the bar is really fawkin low
 
Stent

Stent

jewery duty
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satanssockpuppet said:
You can see it with Nana too. Always all drunk and fake happy, hooting and guffawing like a retard, just meandering through life in a beer-drenched haze. One day he'll be forced to stop and he'll age fifteen years overnight, and be even more disturbing and ghoulish than he is now.
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He has to be rolling the dice with a stroke. If he's lucky it'll kill him outright. I hope he survives so I can see him in a wheelchair, frail with ghost white hair, being sat in the corner while the LoS make fun of him.
 
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