The Frenchie Factor

Frenchie and Fam part 1

nuclearwarfare — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 00:11:40 +0000

Frenchie woke up to the sound of cute little birds chirping outside of his window. “It’s going to be a beautiful day,” Frenchie said with a big open mouthed smile. “Life is good,” he said. “I’ve got people in my life that love me, God up above me shining his grace down upon me, amazing friends, and a kick-ass job. I’m truly blessed!” Frenchie, skipping into the bathroom, began to brush his teeth. “The dentist says that if I have no cavities on my next check up, he’ll give me a bag of Skittles!”

Frenchie, as people viewed him, embodied innocence. He still had the same childish hair cut that he had in the fourth grade. It was a beautiful helmet of brown hair that rested neatly on the tops of his ears. His boyish dimples were pure and wholesome. There was simply nothing about him that Jeffrey Dahmer wouldn’t have found irresistible as 100% prime fuck bait.

Frenchie continued to talk to himself in the mirror, like an innocent young boy.

“I sure hope the Skittles cover up that awful post-check up taste I always have in my mouth…” Just then, Frenchie heard his mother yelling from the kitchen.

“We just can’t do it, Wayne! We can’t!” said Frenchie’s mom.

“Look, honey, I don’t like it anymore than you do, but all I’m asking is that we turn down the thermostat to save a little on our energy costs!”

Frenchie tip-toed out of the bathroom and peered into the kitchen, trying hard to not be noticed.

“I don’t know what else to do, Terry!” Wayne said. “If we don’t cut back on a few things, we’re going to have to sell the house!”

“NO!” Frenchie shouted. “I don’t wanna move! I don’t wanna go to a new school! I DON’T WANNA MAKE NEW FRIENDS!” Frenchie ran into his bedroom and slammed the door.

“See what you did?” Frenchie’s mother said to Wayne. “We both know how fragile he is and you go and spew your venom.”

Wayne sat down at the kitchen table and put his hands over his face.

“You better fix this, Wayne,” Terry said. “And I ain’t lowering the thermostat, motherfucker.”

Hours and hours passed. There wasn’t a single word said in the Williamson household, aside from the screaming sobs coming from Frenchie’s bedroom. It was now 10:00 at night. Frenchie hadn’t come out of his bedroom all day. Wayne, concerned for the well-being of his little man, knocked on Frenchie’s door.

“Hey, Frenchie, it’s your Pops. Can I come in?”

No answer.

“Hey, come on, son. I know you’re upset,” he said. “How about you let your ol’ dad in and we wrestle around like old times, huh? Would you like that?”

No answer.

“Frenchie, you open this goddamn door before I kick it in, you hear me!?”

No answer.

“PUSSY!”

Wayne stormed off, leaving out the front door. He needed to be alone. He needed to feel the cool, warm summer air. How was it possible for the air to feel cool and warm at the same time, Wayne wondered.

Frenchie was, in fact, awake. He was busy playing ARMA 2 online. He was a moderator, teaching other Frenchie-like guys how to play the game. Frenchie was soothing his wounds the best way he knew how.

“Ok, go around the corner and wait for my single. There’s enemy turrets up ahead and…uhh..just…” Frenchie began to cry into his microphone.

“Uhh, Captain?” one player said online. “Is everything ok?”

“I just found out my parents have to sell my house and they’re going to make me move away from my friends.”

“Aren’t you 23 years old and a college graduate?”

“UGGGGHHHHHH” Frenchie rage-quit the game and rage shut off his computer.

He began a rampage of destruction in his bedroom. Frenchie started by tearing down the life-sized Jeff Gordon poster. And then he stopped. That was all he did.

Wayne was outside, standing in front of Frenchie’s car. He was staring up at the sky.

“God,” he said, fighting back tears. “I need a miracle.”

Wayne closed his eyes and hung his head. As he opened his eyes, he noticed his shoe was untied. “Stupid Velcro,” he said as he raised his foot up onto Frenchie’s front bumper.

Without warning, the entire front end of Frenchie’s car fell off, taking Wayne down with it. Wayne fell head first onto the hood of Frenchie’s car. “Gaw Dam,” Wayne said, dazed.

As he sat up slowly, he looked at the bumper on the ground. As he stood up, he bent down to pick up the bumper when he saw it. Right before him, he knew that God had answered his prayers and had sent him down some miracle shit. Wayne was staring at Frenchie’s Hannah Montana license plate with the look of a madman.

“Of course!” Wayne shouted. It made perfect sense. Thousands of children all across the country went batshit crazy for anything Hannah Montana. Wayne, that ever scheming bastard, was going to take advantage of it. He was going to make homemade episodes of the Hannah Montana show and pass them off as “lost episodes.” And he knew who would make a damn fine Hannah Montana.

Frenchie was sitting on his bed when Wayne barged in. “Frenchie,” Wayne said, nearly out of breath. “I need you to come down to the basement.”

“Can’t you see I’m brooding, dad?” Frenchie said in his usual condescending tone.

“I don’t give a fuck what you’re doing, Frenchie,” Wayne snapped. “Get your ass down to the basement. I just found a way to save our house!”

Wayne and Frenchie made their way down to the basement. Wayne motioned for Frenchie to sit down in one of the foldable lawn chairs that were set up.

“Listen, Frenchie,” Wayne said in his serious tone. “I’m sure that you’re aware that our lifestyle has gotten out of hand. I mean, your mother runs the furnace every day of the year and simply refuses to let anyone touch the damn thing. You know how much money it costs to heat and cool our home in a year with a crazy woman like that? Anyway, we either have to make some changes or we’re going to lose everything. Now, I think I’ve found a way to make things better. Are you with me?”

“You betcha POPS!” Frenchie said, suddenly enthused.

“Good, then I’m just going to lay this on you. We’re going to make some homemade Hannah Montana videos and pass them off as “lost episodes.” We’re going to sell them to parents who will buy damn near anything with Hannah Montana on it.”

“This is an interesting idea,” Frenchie said rubbing his chin stubble. “Who do you have as the characters?”

“Well, I’ve already done some casting. You’re going to play Hannah Montana.”

“Oh that’s wonderful!” Frenchie said.

“Yeah, I knew you’d like that,” Wayne said. “So are you going to devote yourself to this 100%?”

“You better believe it!”

“Good,” Wayne said. “Your boyfriend, Ricardo, is going to be this German Shepherd I picked up at the Humane Society.”

“I don’t know, dad.” Frenchie said.

“That’s perfect! That can be your catch phrase! Say it again!”

“Dad, I’m being serious. I don’t know.”

“Fucking brilliant! WAYNE TRAIN STRIKES AGAIN!”

Another day, another dolla; Matt sucks, holla holla!

imtoosexyformybowlcut — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 23:33:37 +0000

I wrote that. I think it’s pretty clever. I might get it tattooed on one or more of my guns.

And by guns, I mean my biceps.

I’ve been waiting eagerly, but Tony hasn’t bought me any lapdances recently. Suuuucks. I’ll keep playing hard-to-get for now.

I’ve been thinking about what kind of furry I should be. I’ve been thinking about being a cute kitty with whiskers, but bunnies have cooler ears. I don’t know. I wonder what kind of furry Matt would be.

Iuno. Gilmore Girls is on.

xoxo

Frenchie

Never Fuck With Frenchie

imtoosexyformybowlcut — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 08:12:20 +0000

I wake up feeling cold. Really, really fucking cold. I’m more confused than anything else, but it’s not long until I’m fucking terrified. Where the fuck am I and how did I get here? Oh shit, my head hurts. What in the dogshit fuck is going on? I try to move but I can’t. Why the goddamn–oh shit, I’m tied down. Fuck, it’s bright! What the fuck is going on here?! I’m frantic by now–trying to break out of whatever is keeping my naked body tied, face-up on this table. It feels like a stainless-steel operating table or something–I don’t know. I’m just fucking cold and I have no idea where I am. I can’t hear anything but the flourescent buzz of the light right above my face. It smells sickeningly sterile in here. I don’t know what that means for me, but I do know that I didn’t know I was going to be here. I don’t want to be here. More than anything, I don’t want to be here. Oh God, am I going to die? Did I just get kidnapped?
“Haha, quit squirming. It’s not going to help you.”
My eyes are wide open now and I’m not moving a muscle. He’s right above me now, but the light is too bright for me to see him. His laughter just serves to terrify me further. I’ve been beaten, kidnapped, and tied down by a madman.
“You know, the fear you’re feeling right now–it’s funny to watch. You just can’t appreciate it because you’re the one tied down. If you could just see the look on your face. Haha, hold on. Let me get a camera. I’ll show you.”
He leaves for a moment and I am more desperate than ever to get up, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t break free. It’s not long until he’s back.
“I’m back! Did you miss me? Well, I suppose not. Haha, I’ll bet it’s just the opposite. Remember what I said about the look on your face and the fear and all that? I really want you to see your face. It’s the funniest goddamn thing I’ve seen in months. Haha, I have an idea!”
There’s a short pause, then “You better keep me laughing, because as soon as I lose interest, I’m going to cut a gash in your abdomen deep enough for you to smell your own shit.”
I make some distorted expression I’ve never made before and a flash of light blinds me for a couple seconds. When I can see again, there is a polaroid picture of my own terrified face right above me. I can’t see it very well because it’s in the way of the light above me and there is no light below me, but it gives me a second to see my murderer.
“You know, pissing yourself wasn’t very nice. It’s just more for me to clean up.” Then, he bursts out laughing. Hard. I’m the funniest thing Frenchie has ever seen.
In between bouts of giggling, “Matt, you knew this was going to happen someday. I mean, you can only push a person so far until they…well, kidnap and murder you! Haha!”
I know I’m fucked anyway, so I spit on his face. Frenchie doesn’t laugh.
I feel a pain I’m not used to. Something has gone through my hand, but I can’t even figure out how big it is. My reflexes force me to yelp and pull away, but pulling away only rips it through my hand.
Frenchie laughs his goddamn head off.
Bleeding and resigned to my fate, I finally open my mouth: ”Seth, I never meant–”
“SETH?! HAHA, It’s SETH now?! No, please. Call me Frenchie.”
“Seth, I–” Frenchie breaks my toe. I scream. “What the FUCK do you want from me, Frenchie?!”
“Haha, I want a title shot. I’ve only ever wanted a title shot. And I want it to be fair. I don’t want any goddamn guest referees. But most importantly, I want you to keep your fucking mouth shut before the match. No trash talking me and saying I get fucked my men or anything. If you say one goddamn thing, I will cut your slippery little tongue out. Hahaha!”
“Are you fucking serious!? You kidnapped me because you want a fucking title shot? You fucking piece of shit! Fine! You’ve got your shot. But on one condition.”
“Hahaha, who the fuck are you to be making conditions right now? But go ahead. I’m curious now. Be still, my fucking heart. Hahaha.”
“Fuck you. My condition is that, if I retain my title, you eat an entire ziplock bag full of my shit while I fuck your mom right in front of you.”
“Hahahaha, you know, I really didn’t think you’d pull out the ‘Frenchie’s mom’ thing in this position, but I’m proud of you. I was going to cut a hole in your throat and fuck it until I came into your lungs, but that little bit or courage went a long way. Hahaha, I’ll see you at summerslam!”
That’s the last thing I remember until I wake up in my bed. My hand is bandaged and I can feel a splint on my toe.
Before I get up to start training, I mutter to myself, “Frenchie is going to get the MATTer of Fact so hard, he’s going to sneeze testicles.”

Frenchie-Charmed Life

imtoosexyformybowlcut — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 02:29:05 +0000

Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo…
“Im hard and Im ready. Im horny.”
My urine is golden and he lives for pee
Says he lives for
“Menstruation–the best motivation”
He comes round and he goes down on me.
And I make a turd
Like a baby would do
Do ever what you want to do
Cum like cumming’s new.
Keep on munching on my poo
One dump is all that I provide you
And I speak to you like your sex is the worst.
Fucked a little boy, then you put him in a hearse.
Came like in a porno, jerkin’ with rage.
Dead little boy could not yell rape
I want something else
To get me through this
Frenchie-charmed kind of life baby baby
“I want something else”
Im not listening when you say
“Let’s try…”
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo…
The piss was gold, it stung my nose
He was taking sips of it but said it was too cold
And he wished he could get back there
Some place back there
Fondling little boys that he would rape
Doing crystal meth,

Hoping the viagra would take.
“It wont stop, It wont go down, my little cock!
With a big cock rhythm and a smile for the cops
And then he fucked up
He took the hit that he was given
It was viagra again
It was viagra again he said
“Ow I sprained back there, dude.
I got too hard and fell asleep inside dudes.
How do I get myself back to
The boys in my bed?”
I want something else
To get me through this
Frenchie-charmed kind of life baby baby
“I want something else”
Im not listening when you say
“Let’s try…”

“I believe in the cum beneath my nose
The bitch gives a feeling a sexy feeling
I believe in the dick that grows
And a ten inch dick can make me cry
When Im with you I feel like creampie.
Would that be alright? Alright!”

When the sprain came on,
He said he was flashing
His velvety nips in the city, then slipped
On the urge to feel a guy but now he’s “struggling to survive”
“Those days you were wearing that velvet dress–
You’re the priestess. I must confess
Those little red panties they passed the test
But it would be cooler
If you were a priest for this fuckfest.”

“Son, could you hold me? And we’ll start fuckin’
C’mon, it’s all that I want to do. Just a little, now!
Feel myself–as hard as your shit’s brown.
Be scared ’cause I am cumming in mounds
And you better run for your life
Cause I’m going to be cumming for a while
Because your butt is so tight, all right?”

I want something else
To get me through this life baby
“I want something else”
Not listening when you say
“Let’s try…”
“Let’s try…”
“Let’s try…”
“…more guys!”
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo…
The piss was gold, it stung my nose
He was taking sips of it but said it was too cold
And he wished he could get back there
Some place back there in the place he would fuck guys.
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo…
“I want something else”

Frenchiebird

nuclearwarfare — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 03:47:07 +0000

If I leave here tomorrow,
Could I take your son with me?
For I must be travelling on now,
I know he’s young, but there’s parts of him I wanna see.
You’re just jealous I’m in love, girl.
Me and him are meant to be.
Cause I’m as free as a bird now.
And this Frenchie you can’t change, Ohhhhhhh.
And this Frenchie you can’t change.
And this Frenchie you can’t change.
Lord knows, I can’t change.

My, my, you have a sweet ass, boi.
I want to dick slap your butt.
You best not call the cops, Bradley,
Cause God will bring you shame.
But if you touched my hard penis,
You butt would fee good, like fame.
Cause I’m as free as a bird now.
And this Frenchie you can’t change, Ohhhhh.
And this Frenchie you can’t change.
And this Frenchie you can’t change.
Lord knows, I can’t change.
Lord, help me. I can’t change.
Lord, I can’t change.

Won’t you fly, Frenchiebird? Yeah!

*40 minute guitar solo*

That Time Frenchie Sued Us All

imtoosexyformybowlcut — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 04:49:54 +0000

I remember a time a few years back when Frenchie actually got so pissed about us writing about him that he actually took legal action against us. He claimed that we were ruining his reputation and good name within the gay community by writing so many loving things about him. His main complaint was that he didn’t like being romantically associated, even in fiction, with such “low quality man meat.” He’d use any excuse to cover for just not being a hot gay man.

It was actually pretty scary for us. I remember Tony even trying to blame it all on Zach just to get out of trouble. They hate each other to this day. A few years ago, Tony had his first child and he made this whole big thing out of Zach eating his baby Katietedrick Lockard, but to be fair, Tony really was being kind of a dick when he blamed all the writing on Zach.

It all worked out in the end, though. The judge in the case determined that we couldn’t actually ruin the repuatation of someone without a good one to begin with. Judge Judy went on to tell him that he looked like a “complete faggot” and her baliff nodded with a very ethnic grunt.

Now, we just write intentionally dematory things about Frenchie because of double-jeapordy laws.

P.S. Frenchie is a big ol’ poop butt.

To Catch A Frenchie

nuclearwarfare — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 01:07:17 +0000

Frenchie VIII has entered the chat.

Frenchie VIII: Are you in here, Zach?

OhHellYesxoxo: helo there

Frenchie VIII: Hey.

OhHellYesxoxo: wuts your name?????????

Frenchie VIII: My name is Frenchie.

OhHellYesxoxo: mmm frenchie that’s a nice name. wut brings you to dis chat

Frenchie VIII: I’m looking for my friend Zach. By the way, what’s your name?

OhHellYesxoxo: my name is Franklin. do u have a pic?

Frenchie VIII: Yes. It’s not a very good picture.

OhHellYesxoxo: can I c?

Frenchie VIII: Well, you seem like a nice guy. Ok. Here it is…

Frenchie VIII wants to direct connect with you.

Frenchie VIII is now directly connected with you.

OhHellYesxoxo: mmmmmyeah that looks real nice you hottiey

Frenchie VIII: Oh gosh…you’re…you’re making me blush…

OhHellYesxoxo: oh gadd that pic is so hottt im so hard now

OhHellYesxoxo: u lik video gamez?

Frenchie VIII: I love video games. I play them all the time.

Frenchie VIII: In fact, I’d rather play video games than hang out with my friends.

OhHellYesxoxo: aww why that?

Frenchie VIII: Well, my friends don’t really seem to understand me.

OhHellYesxoxo: sound like your frienz are real asholes

Frenchie VIII: Tell me about it.

OhHellYesxoxo: wel I think your so sexy. I want to get you naked LOL

OhHellYesxoxo: j/k jk j/k/ jk/ j/k/ jk/ j/k/ j/k/ j/k/ j//k/ /

Frenchie VIII: Hahahaha.

Frenchie VIII: You are so funny, Franklin.

Frenchie VIII: So what video games do you like to play? RPGs, sports, mystery, action?

OhHellYesxoxo: want to come over and play 36o wit me?

Frenchie VIII: I don’t know if I should. I’m really supposed to be meeting my friend Zach.

OhHellYesxoxo: forgit bout zak. He left you all alone I would never do that to you

Frenchie VIII: Really?

OhHellYesxoxo: really!!!!1!!1!!!

Frenchie VIII: You’re so sweet, Franklin.

OhHellYesxoxo: so you wana cum ovar? I have halo

Frenchie VIII: Well…

Frenchie VIII: Alright. Where do you live?

OhHellYesxoxo: wel im traveling thro town I am staying at the holiday in

Frenchie VIII: Ok.

OhHellYesxoxo: u know were tht is?????????/?

Frenchie VIII: Yeah.

OhHellYesxoxo: kool meet u soon?

Frenchie VIII: Yeah, I’ll be right over.

Frenchie is away at 8:53:12 PM.

OhHellYesxoxo: see you in a few!11

Auto-response from Frenchie VIII: I THINK I HAVE A REAL FRIEND!

Frenchie VIII returned at 9:10:25 PM.

Frenchie VIII: Why is your hotel room so dark?

OhHellYesxoxo: oh the lite bulb blew out lol

OhHellYesxoxo: *****light

Frenchie VIII: Oh, I see. Lol.

Frenchie VIII: So where is the 360?

OhHellYesxoxo: the 360 is muh DICK

Frenchie VIII: Arrrghhhhh! Noooo!

OhHellYesxoxo: come on come on come on DON’T SCREM! DON’T SCREEM OR I WILL FUKIN KILL YOU!

Frenchie VIII: akfldjakfdjafkdlfjaMMMMMMMMMM

OhHellYesxoxo: do not you bit down on my dixk DON’T!

Frenchie VIII: WHHHHYYYYYYY

OhHellYesxoxo: admit that im yours! Admit that you love me

Frenchie VIII: No, I don’t love you!

OhHellYesxoxo: ADMIT IT!

Frenchie VIII: Why is it so biiiiiiiig?

OhHellYesxoxo: Arrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggg

Frenchie VIII: *gurgles* Ohhhhh, it’s all over my face!

OhHellYesxoxo: Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggg

Frenchie VIII: Please stop!

OhHellYesxoxo: Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggg

Frenchie VIII: This is not Halo!

OhHellYesxoxo: LOLOLOLOL

OhHellYesxoxo has signed off at 9:15:04

Frenchie VIII: It tastes so baaadddd!

Frenchie VIII: Shit! He left! Urrghhh!

Frenchie VIII has signed off at 9:16:00

My Memories of Frenchie: A Matt Mills Memoir Part 2

nuclearwarfare — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 06:34:54 +0000

I like to tell people that I’ve known Frenchie since the day we were born. Of course that isn’t true seeing as how I am nearly seven months older than him. But we have such a powerful and rewarding connection as best friends that it seems like we were born from the same womb. And just imagine all of the jokes he’d hear if he and I did come from the same womb.

“Hey, Frenchie! I was in your mom’s vagina once!”

We wouldn’t be brothers, of course. I’m talking about a strong spiritual connection. I would have been inside his mom’s vagina in a spiritual way.

With that said, I have actually known Frenchie since we were in the second grade. I met a bowl cut wearing, sweat pants rocking, girl impregnator named Frenchie. The first time I saw him I said, “Wow, I want to be just like him!” Then I saw him get kicked three times straight in the nuts by one of our female classmates because he asked if she wanted an invitation to his Power Ranger themed birthday party in his pants. Then I said to myself, “You know, I’m good not being Frenchie.”

Later that day at recess, he walked up to me and said, “So you’re Matt Mills. I’ve heard about you. You think ya better than me?” Then he pulled back like he was going to throw a punch at me. “I run this playground, pretty boy,” he said next. “If I told you to shit your pants, you would without question. Got it? If I told you—”

He didn’t even finish. Someone across the playground had kicked a football and it smashed against Frenchie’s head. He dropped like a bag of computer monitors. He didn’t move. He was knocked completely unconscious. So I just walked away.

Frenchie wouldn’t admit it back then and he wouldn’t admit it now, but back in the fifth grade, someone started a rumor around our school that Frenchie was gay. And, of course, Frenchie was always more than eager to prove any rumor about him either true (if he felt that it would make him look cool or a badass) or false (if he felt that it was a threat to him looking cool or like a badass).

Someone started a rumor that Frenchie had rigged a toilet in the boys bathroom with a camera. There was about a 10 second delay on the camera so that by the time the camera took its picture, the victim would already be unzipped and exposed. When the camera was discovered, there was a piece of white tape stuck to the side of the camera that said “This camera is the property of Frenc Matt Mills.”

It was the first 5th grade sex scandal in U.S. history. Frenchie could tell you that. He’s a history major.

So I confronted him. I said, “Why did you try to blame me for that camera? I thought we were friends. That’s not what you do to your friends! That’s against the rules of friendship.”

Frenchie looked me straight in the eyes and said, “FUCK THE RULES!” Then he lit up a cigarette in the middle of math class. Our teacher looked at him and said, “Frenchie, are you smoking a cigarette?”

Frenchie looked at her and said, “No, I’m smoking a flaming dick!”

After he was wrestled out of the classroom by our teacher, our principal literally made him smoke a flaming dick…with his ass.

God, I hate women. Women and Matt.

imtoosexyformybowlcut — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 07:41:53 +0000

Okay, so it’s me again bois. Let me just start out by saying I really hate Matt Mills. Like, I know we’ve been over this again and again, but that motherfucker is really REALLY pissing me off. Do you know what he did today? He made a fake myspace bulletin from a fake Frenchie myspace. What the fuck Matt? Do you think you’re clever because you write about me being gay and cuddling with Zach in college? It’s not like it even happened that often. Jesus! And I only slipped my finger in his butt when he was SLEEPING so he wouldn’t notice. No harm, no foul.

Anyway, the main reason I’m writing this is that I want to officially state my hatred for women. I’m not saying I’m gay now or anything. I’m just really tired of my mom sleeping around with my “friends” and always bossing me around like I’m a little kid. I’LL PUT AWAY MY DINOSAURS WHEN I’M GOOD AND READY, YOU TWAT! UGH!

Wall-E was good. I went and saw it with my dad. I did the whole penis-in-the-popcorn thing, but he wasn’t hungry and all I got for my trouble was a buttery weiner and bad-tasting popcorn. I’ll trick you into touching me again someday, dad. Just you wait. Maybe I’ll be like “April Fool’s! My dick is in your mouth!” when you wake up next April. Hmm. That’s not very subtle though.

Anyway, I heard Matt Mills is single now, which means Arielle is single now, which means I can hurt Matt. All I have to do is woo Arielle with my machismo. I’ve been doing crunches like woah for the past two days and I just bought the newest Richard Simmons “Sweatin’ to the Oldies” video. A couple more days of this and I think I’ve got a shot. Well, not really, but whatever. I’m still going to try.

Anyway, I’ve got to find a way to get in touch with Arielle, so I’m going to do some internet “research.” Bye cuties.

-S”F”W

Frenchie Went Down To Georgia

nuclearwarfare — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 04:32:57 +0000

Frenchie went down to Georgia, he was raped while lookin for grapes to peel

He was mad cause he’d been had and his butt just wouldn’t heal.

When he came across this young man choking his chicken and lookin hot.

And Frenchie jumped up on a hickory stump and said “boy, let me tell ya what:

“You may not know it, but I’m good with my hands too.

And if you care, I’ll strip down bare and do some things to you.”

The boy said: “My name’s Johnny and it might be sin,

I’m nine years old, I’m sure you’ve been told, but I don’t know where your dick has been.”

Johnny you better zip up quick and run real fast and hard.

Cause Frenchie’s loose in Georgia and his dick is pretty hard.

If you win you never have to withstand his rigid pole.

But if you lose, then Frenchie gets your hole.

Then Frenchie opened up his pants and he said “I’ll start this show.”

And oil flew from his fingertips which let Johnny know.

And he pulled his penis across a guitar and he made a silly hiss.

Then he started shooting semen and it sounded something like this.

When Frenchie had finished, Johnny said: “My dad will come for his son

And if you don’t let me go, you ho, you’re gonna be the one on the run.”

Homo on the mountain, run boi, run!

Frenchie’s in your house, where your dad’s gun?

Checkin behind all doors, please, God no.

Terri is your vag dry, no, child no.

Frenchie bowed his head because he knew that he’d been beat.

He zipped up his pants really slow and stared down at his feet.

Johnny said, “Frenchie, just come on back if you ever wanna try again.

I told you once, you son of a gun, I don’t know where your dick has been.

Homo on the mountain, run boi, run!

Frenchie’s in your house, where your dad’s gun?

Checkin behind all doors, please, God no.

Terri is your vag dry, no, child no.