Twitter Fiction Reader

DadBoner - Tue Jan 22 2013

12:24 PM #
Just wanted to wish the bold bad boy, Guy Fieri, a happy b-day. My main man must be up to his neck in chest beefers right now, you guys.

12:32 PM #
Wonder what kinda gifts Guy Fieri got? Maybes a Camaro Helicopter with a smokin' babe's caboose and flames on the side? Man. So money.

12:42 PM #
Bet Barry O. blew in a personal smooth soul bro phone call to Guy. Probably rapped about life, love, and our proud nation, USA style.

12:52 PM #
Kinda bummed I'm not rockin' the party with the heat of a thousand suns, con my main amigo, Guy Fieri. I tried to reach out so mucho.

12:55 PM #
Feel like I could drink a thousand beers for Guy. Hope he's feelin' my vibes for the celebraish, you guys.

05:59 PM #
Crazy Cooter came by for Guy Fieri's b-day celebraish. Said, "I ain't care who your load pal is, let's get sh*f*cked." Nice gesture?

06:01 PM #
Crazy Cooter brought over 2 fifths of Beam. Said, "I got one for the slizz AND the dampness!" Then drank one himself. Kinda concerning.

06:04 PM #
Dave said, "Yeah, let's get the slizz flooded!" Not chilll. Was just me, him, and Cooter. Always needs to show off.

06:08 PM #
Dave bragged to Coot bought how he learned to "shake his meat so the whizz dribblins would fly off" and that "they should cruise for cooze."

06:12 PM #
Dave doesn't say "cooze." It's a XXX mag term that says you're trash stink unless you got some sophisticaish like a ladies' gent.

06:14 PM #
Coot said, "If you don't got no slampigs comin' by, then I'm just gonna rock it." Went in the john with a Cherry from his waistband.

06:19 PM #
Dave said, "Yeah let's go rock it." Tried to go in the john with Cooter. Cooter smacked his guy zone and said, "I ain't need no stroke pal!"

06:20 PM #
Guess, "rock it" is the new term on the streets for solo carnal passions. Wasn't aware. Gonna make a note. Can't have a guy on guy mistake.

06:23 PM #
Cooter's been in the john for a bit now. Door's locked. Mighta "rocked" his peener to thoroughly?

06:25 PM #
Gonna make a tall Beam & ice for the sack. Smooth sippin' with Jim + a soft pillow = dreams of majesty. Do the math, your highness.