June 23, 2010

A Story About J Like The Letter for His Birthday

Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there lived a prince named Jay. A huge gala was planned to celebrate the day, but he wasn't really looking forward to the event. You might even say he was a bit skeptical of the success of the evening...See, he didn't have a date. He hadn't even asked anyone to go with him because all the eligible dames in the kingdom were boorish, half retarded likely from incest in the bloodlines or smelly.

For fuck's sake, he thought, if any tradition needs to be broken , it's the once weekly baths. Can't these broads smell themselves? Ridiculously nasty. I wish i'd meet a beautiful, witty, heavenly-smelling lass who'd rub my feet and give me bj's for my birthday.....

He sighed out loud as he finished the wish then choked back a girlish scream when he saw a rat scurry across the floor of his room. He promptly swatted it with a broom from a nearby corner knocking it out cold...

Oh shit...that might have been too coincidental. Could this greasy, nasty little rodent be my dream girl? he wondered. He'd heard about that frog prince incident in the neighboring kingdom not too long ago. Fuck. fuck. Could this really be my one shot at real conversation with less body odor and retardedness? Man...if I don't do something I might end up regretting this my entire life.

He didn't have a clue what to do so he opened the bathroom door and asked his fairy godmother, El Hefe from NoFx, if he thought the rat could be the girl of his dreams. El Hefe just looked at it for a moment then said, "I dunno, dude. I'm in the bathroom. What'd I tell you about minding my privacy?" The sad little prince looked like he might burst into tears at any moment, so El Hefe looked at the rat again and said, "It looks like any other rat to me, dude," then slammed the bathroom door.

Jay still thought this might be his only chance at real happiness so he decided to at least try and revive the rat. He pushed it with the broom handle. Nothing. He tried dripping water on its face. Nothing. The only thing left was to give it mouth to mouth resuscitation. So, he gave in and gave it a shot.

It squealed after the second breath, bit the shit out of him, and ran off leaving him bleeding and feeling like a dumbass. Am I really so desperate for attention that I gave a RAT rescue breathing? oh man this is saaaaaad....

He moped around the rest of the day thinking he was doomed to spend the rest of his life jerking off in boredom. In fact, he was so depressed that by the time the gala began, he completely forgot it was suposed to be a masquerade. For the second time that day, his birthday, he felt like a complete idiot. He'd made out with a fucking rat and now he was the only one at his own birthday party not in costume. 
everyone else at the masquerade

jay on his way to the masquerade

The snide remarks were endless.

"Of all the people who should be able to afford a costume for this overdone monstrosity, it should be the king's son."

"Forget to buy a costume for your own party, royal retard?"

"If he's not wearing a costume to his own shit....we shouldn't be forced to sweat to death in these godawful things. It's not like we had a choice to come here. The boy doesn't even hunt, for god's sake."




He took it all in stride, never breaking a sweat. He'd reply that he spent all his royal allowance on wenches and ale or that he'd come dressed as himself because no one would've expected it. No one really believed any of it but at least he wasn't running off crying to his daddy and getting people beheaded like when he was younger. It took years for people to stop calling him the Little Royal Bitch.

He looked around at the costumes. These people really overflatter themselves. Dressing up like David Bowie in the Labyrinth and shit. Uh no. These people had it all wrong. Most of them should have been dressed as witches, fat homely cows, or jackasses. And that was really still more on the flattering side.

It was then, though, that he spotted the most unique costume of the night. She had cute little mouse ears on top of her head, a little whiskered mouse nose over her own and she'd had her gown altered with a cloth "tail". He moved through the crowd closer to her and caught a whiff of her scent as she twirled by...fuck, she smells so good. Like fruit or some shit. I wanna eat her. 

Suddenly his eyebrows raised as things seemed to click. The rat from earlier and now a costumed mouse.... coincidence? He thought not. No wonder he didn't recognize her. His fingers drifted across the small cuts on his lips from the rat's teeth. And she's a biter.....hell yes.

He moved even closer to her and as her dance ended, he leaned into her ear and asked, "Was that you in my room earlier this evening?"


"I could swear that perhaps you were in my room earlier today."

"Have you had too many women in there today to keep track of them all, sir?"

hmmm....a little heat in that sir. I like 'em feisty, he thought... "You mean you weren't there?"

"Shouldn't you know if I was or wasn't yourself? I mean, after all, sir... it is your room."

"Oh, come on...don't beat me up over it. I mean, I'm sure there was a rat in my room today."

"PIG!" she scoffed and stormed off.

Shit! he thought and ran after her. "Wait!" he called....I didn't meant it. I mean, I was just joking about your costume. How am I supposed to know who you are? You're in a mouse nose."

She whirled around and threw the costume nose onto the ground.

oh fuck. It was one of the servants' daughters. He'd given the shit for years back when they were both kids about being poor and all kind of other bullshit. But, she'd really turned out to be quite the looker with her long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes...eyes which were boring into his soul with quite a bit of rage at the moment. If looks could kill, as the saying goes...

He got down on one knee and pleaded for forgiveness but she was stubborn. So, he took a more dramatic flair and sung her a little song. That embarrassed her enough that she agreed to actually dance with him just so he'd shut up.

He twirled her around the dance floor song after song. The two talked and laughed. She was pretty funny for a girl. He pulled her close and told her she was a better birthday present than he could have hoped for to which she quickly answered:

"That's nice but I'm not giving you a blow job."

Jay wasn't worried, though....because just then he heard the band start up his favorite song. And he looked up  to find El Hefe giving him a grin. Head would be his even if his fairy godmother had to use a little magic powder in her drink to do it.

                                 The End. Happy Birthday!

about me. not really.

dear you,

i don't talk about my child or being a mom. i don't talk about my garden. i won't mention my craftiness (often) or how much i save each week with coupons. if you're looking for that sort of thing, you're in the wrong place.

instead, let's abandon the tethers of domestication for a moment and remember what it's like to laugh at vulgarity and the world at large.



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