Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
NOTE: A Cheddar Worst is a Cheddar Wurst performed with a Puffy Cheeto.
Caleb sashayed into the third-floor West Loop loft he shared with his longtime lover, Delmonico. "Hey girl," Caleb called out in a Truman Capote sing-song, "I got fresh arugula at Whole Foods - I think it should create an interesting flavor contrast with the Pecan-encrusted mahi mahi and that gorgeous Chilean pinot you found."
When he didn't receive a response, Caleb dropped the grocery bag and wiped his smooth pink hand on his ass-hugging Rock & Republic jeans.
As Caleb trotted into the boudoir, he gasped upon seeing Delmonico spread out in a pose completely different from the stance he took when he wanted to be penetrated anally. An empty bottle of Don Julio tequila glistened in the track lightening like the diamond that Caleb someday hoped to wear at his dream wedding once the oppressive laws regulating gay marriage were repealed.
"Delmonico, you're drunk! What the fuck, princess; it's 6 p.m.!"
Delmonico groaned in the same way that he did when he shot a steaming load of fresh come all over Caleb's face, neck, and hair.
"I'm shorry," Delmonico said, his faggot lisp exaggerated by the effects of nearly half a bottle of top shelf tequila, "I pisshed my pantaloons."
Caleb looked down and saw that Delmonico had indeed urinated all over his bulge-enhancing Roberto Cavalli jeans.
"Delmonico," Caleb whispered, his large queer eyes brimming with tears, "what's happened to you?"
"I'm sho shorry," Delmonico slurred, "I just can't deal wish the stress of thesh law shkool finalsh."
Caleb ignored the erection growing in his pants caused by Delmonico's loud expulsion of gas due to the effects of alcohol on his already weakened pyloric sphincter.
"I have a Xanax prescription, silly goose!" Caleb yelled in a way that was masculine for him, "why didn't you just take one of those and get some sleep!"
"I just lost it - I'm sho stresshed out," Delmonico pouted, "I need to get it togesher."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, you naughty little rump ranger," Caleb stated with a "you go girl" affectation, "How would you like a cheddar wurst for dinner?"
Delmonico could not hide his confusion as Caleb strutted back out to the kitchen. Once there, Caleb grabbed a bag of Cheetos that his white trash sister Dakota had left behind during one of her rare visits from Rockford. The Cheetos had not spoiled due to the 47 different types of preservatives present in the delectable snack food.
Caleb open the bag and extracted a particularly long and jagged Cheeto. He then swaddled back to the bedroom with a big homo grin on his botox-smoothed face.
"Let's get you out of those wet knickers, you pole-smoking queer," Caleb sneered, "Maybe this will teach you deal with your stress in a healthy way!"
Caleb proceeded to work the larger-than-average Cheeto up Delmonico's pee-hole. As Delmonico screamed, Caleb knew that Delmonico had both sobered up and learned a valuable lesson about healthy stress-management.
"I changed my mind," Caleb said in a raspy whisper full of promise," Let's have mac and cheese tonight - the Cheeto will make your jizm as orange as the day is long and provide the perfect color to counterbalance the arugula salad."
Caleb looked more pale than usual as he hung up his micro-mini lime green Motorola cell phone.
"Ding-dong, what's wrong, bitch?" Caleb's effeminate lover Delmonico lisped, "Is Christina Agulara retiring?"
Caleb removed his perfectly moisturized hands from the knees of his 80% linen, 20% polyester Armani City slacks and stared at his cherished come-dumpster.
"It's my sister, Dakota," Caleb minced, "she's gone into labor prematurely - we, like, have to drive over to see her!"
"Oh my god, Caleb, she lives in Rockford," Delmonico pouted, his firm ass accentuated in the moonlight by a pair of acid-stressed Express bootcut jeans, "they eat fags like us for breakfast in that shithole."
Caleb gazed at his boyfriend while picking at the underside of a tooth with his fingernail;
a habit developed during the same period that a pre-pubescent Caleb ruined any hope of having straight incisors by sucking (or gumming) dick concurrent with the development of his "adult teeth".
"Delmonico, we need to support her. When I came out to the family she called me a satan-fellating shit-chomper, but at least she didn't try to beat me with my grandfather's crucifix while my mother drunkenly wept over her Yahtzee board," Caleb said as he unwrapped a watermelon flavored popsicle, "besides, once she's done breeding we can stop by that IKEA in Schaumberg and replace the bedside table that's all covered with shit and come."
"I'm sold," Delmonico yelped,"the smell of that thing messes with my head when I'm doing law school homework."
***Later, in Rockford,***
Caleb and Delmonico skipped through the doors of Rockford Memorial Hospital . “Pardon me, madam,” Delmonico said to the mulleted land-cow seated behind the reception desk. The receptionist slowly glanced up from her Tractor Pull magazine and took in Caleb's lime green fingernails and Delmonico's faux-mohawk with magenta highlighted tips.
“We're looking for Dakota De Laurent” said Caleb, “she's about to have a spawn!”
"Room 503," said the closeted bull-dyke, "elevators to the right."
"Thanks soooo much," Delmonico said, "and maybe grow your hair out a bit, you're tough even for a hick box-muncher. Bye!"
When the happy couple hit the fifth floor, they immediately noticed a conversation occurring at the Nurses Desk.
Caleb stopped suddenly as he noticed an older gentleman dressed in a polo shirt and Dockers.
"Delmonico, that's my uncle Ralph," Caleb said with his head cocked 45 degrees to the left, "I haven't seen him since I was twelve years old when I caught him jerking off while smelling my sister's panties. He ran out ashamed before I could even try to give him a sloppy blow job."
"Caleb, get over here," said Ralph, "Dakota's about to pop!"
Delmonico and Caleb ran after Ralph into room 503. "Push! Push!" yelled the doctor as Dakota screamed,
A flood of pasty yellow feces jettisoned from Dakota's anus as her newborn son's head appeared between her meaty vaginal lips. As Caleb fainted from disgust, a loud blast of vile gas escaped from his weakened sphincter.
Individuals who eat a great deal of fiber usually have remnants of this indigestible material present in their stool: lettuce, celery strands, etc. Scat floss is a new oral hygene technique wherein one individual shits in another individual's mouth. The shitee chews on the warm, viscous shit and in the process has their teeth flossed by the fibrous strands contained within the massive, oozing load.
Caleb examined his mouth in the mirror, frustration oozing from every pore. "Great veal florentine, Delmonico," Caleb lisped to his effeminate lover, "but now I have these silly portabello mushrooms stuck between my teeth!"
Delmonico did not say a word. He merely stood up, brushed off his Prada jeans, and pranced quickly to Caleb's side.
Delmonico placed a manicured hand on Caleb's girlish shoulder and pushed him into a kneeling position with the calm agression that a lioness uses to bathe her newborn cubs.
With wide, moist eyes like a majestic deer, Caleb opened his mouth wide, ready to accept Delmonico's spicy meat pole.
"Not this time, princess," said Delmonico with a Richard Simmons squeal, "it's time for you to clean out your filthy little mouth!"
Delmonico quickly pulled down his jeans and Bill Blass silk bikini underwear.
He placed his gaping, blown-out anus over Caleb's mouth and squeezed out a 9-inch long log that contained the remnants of yesterday's Nicoise salad.
As Caleb chewed and chomped with the delight of a squirell with a sunflower seed, Delmonico let Mr. Foofer, the couples' prized Shi Tzu, lick his dripping asshole clean.