The long journey: A Three Part Story
Welcome back America. Here's what you've been missing. The Donkey has had a substantial amount of great times, which he hasn't blogged about. He's also had plenty of messed up shiznit happen, which has also not been blogged about. Until now.
Flashback, 1.5 years ago. A random phone call from my mother, Mrs. Burro. Normally, I would never pick up this phone call, because I have reservations about speaking with my mother, but for some reason I was compelled that day. Call it the will of our lord and savior, Jesus, if you will. Or don't. I wouldn't. Anyway, the phone was answered by me, Spooky D., on that fateful day. I was told I was going to be an uncle again. "Impossible!" I said. "My bro got his tubes tied years ago. Stop lying to me, mother!" She went on to tell me that it wasn't the usual culprit, but this time was my retarded half brother, born out of wedlock by an unholy union between my mother and the milk man. Okay, that's just not true. I really don't know whose baby he was. Anyway, he was due to be a father. I thought to myself (just before my mother said the exact same words aloud), "Wow, I didn't think he knew how to do that!!"
There was much rejoicing as the story unfolded. It seems that the harlot that forced my Down's Syndrome brother into sexual slavery was the mother of two other children, by two other fathers. Now I know you'll tell me, "Spooky D., that's not the end of the world, and it doesn't make that girl a whore." But you're wrong. She's a whore. And she's 23 as of this writing, which made her about 21 or a young 22 at the time of copulation with my bro.
Anyway, my brother, whom I'll call Jon, in order to hide his identity from you prying bastards, apparently didn't really hit it off with this girl on the one night that he met, and fornicated with her. He tells the (delusional) story with an interesting twist, but the gist of it goes as follows: Boy meets girl. Boy has horrible date with girl. Girl forces rubber onto boy's flaccid penis. Boy ejaculates as fast as possible (okay, this is my own embellishment, to be honest) into said rubber, and goes on his way. Four months later, girl shows up at boy's door to let him know of his new fatherly responsibilities. Boy excitedly yells, "Let's get married, you stinking pus bag!"
Now, at some point, The Donkey tells Jon that he should make sure that baby is his, since it would be really funny if the lovely couple got married, and out popped a baby that looked like Sammy Davis, Jr. It wouldn't be funny because the baby is Black, you racist pigs! It would be funny because it would be someone else's baby! God, get a clue. Anyway, he initially says no to DNA testing. He later folds under family pressure (this is the first time The Donkey and his family have agreed on anything since that time we all agreed that Britney Spears was the reincarnation of the 14th Dalai Lama, even before the current one was dead. She is, by the way.
Anyhoo, it turns out that my sainted brother is indeed not the father of this love child between him and his blushing bride-to-be. But does the fact that he's been lied to about something as important as this sway him? Not for an instant! For he is the Quisatz Haderach, and he is the ultimate Catholic, in my humble opinion. Not even the Pope would have as much patience as that! Imagine, going from zero to three kids in the blink of an eye! You can't, can you!! Anyway, more to follow soon. This is just the back story for events that culminated in the most anticlimactic "wedding" ever! Stay tuned...
Flashback, 1.5 years ago. A random phone call from my mother, Mrs. Burro. Normally, I would never pick up this phone call, because I have reservations about speaking with my mother, but for some reason I was compelled that day. Call it the will of our lord and savior, Jesus, if you will. Or don't. I wouldn't. Anyway, the phone was answered by me, Spooky D., on that fateful day. I was told I was going to be an uncle again. "Impossible!" I said. "My bro got his tubes tied years ago. Stop lying to me, mother!" She went on to tell me that it wasn't the usual culprit, but this time was my retarded half brother, born out of wedlock by an unholy union between my mother and the milk man. Okay, that's just not true. I really don't know whose baby he was. Anyway, he was due to be a father. I thought to myself (just before my mother said the exact same words aloud), "Wow, I didn't think he knew how to do that!!"
There was much rejoicing as the story unfolded. It seems that the harlot that forced my Down's Syndrome brother into sexual slavery was the mother of two other children, by two other fathers. Now I know you'll tell me, "Spooky D., that's not the end of the world, and it doesn't make that girl a whore." But you're wrong. She's a whore. And she's 23 as of this writing, which made her about 21 or a young 22 at the time of copulation with my bro.
Anyway, my brother, whom I'll call Jon, in order to hide his identity from you prying bastards, apparently didn't really hit it off with this girl on the one night that he met, and fornicated with her. He tells the (delusional) story with an interesting twist, but the gist of it goes as follows: Boy meets girl. Boy has horrible date with girl. Girl forces rubber onto boy's flaccid penis. Boy ejaculates as fast as possible (okay, this is my own embellishment, to be honest) into said rubber, and goes on his way. Four months later, girl shows up at boy's door to let him know of his new fatherly responsibilities. Boy excitedly yells, "Let's get married, you stinking pus bag!"
Now, at some point, The Donkey tells Jon that he should make sure that baby is his, since it would be really funny if the lovely couple got married, and out popped a baby that looked like Sammy Davis, Jr. It wouldn't be funny because the baby is Black, you racist pigs! It would be funny because it would be someone else's baby! God, get a clue. Anyway, he initially says no to DNA testing. He later folds under family pressure (this is the first time The Donkey and his family have agreed on anything since that time we all agreed that Britney Spears was the reincarnation of the 14th Dalai Lama, even before the current one was dead. She is, by the way.
Anyhoo, it turns out that my sainted brother is indeed not the father of this love child between him and his blushing bride-to-be. But does the fact that he's been lied to about something as important as this sway him? Not for an instant! For he is the Quisatz Haderach, and he is the ultimate Catholic, in my humble opinion. Not even the Pope would have as much patience as that! Imagine, going from zero to three kids in the blink of an eye! You can't, can you!! Anyway, more to follow soon. This is just the back story for events that culminated in the most anticlimactic "wedding" ever! Stay tuned...
posted by spookydonkey at 3:10 AM
0 comments
