DuckSucker
State Buttchugging Champion 2017, 2018 and 2019
I posted this in the other thread but moved it here because it's basically fanfiction, it's not quite poetry but I figure it doesnt go anywhere else but I was giggling as I made it.
"Fatly" is my new favorite adverb. Check it out:
"BEEEECKKKYYYYYY You got me BAKED cheetos! GO THE FUCK BACK TO THE STORE and get me the regular ones!" Amber wailed, fatly, from pillow mountain. The excess adipose in her jowls wobbled, fatly reverberating from the force of her shrill harping for more tendies from atop her throne of fat, demanding Big Becky also stop at Burger King and Mcdonalds for a double whopper with a paper crown from the Burger King Kids Club and a double big mac respectively for her new 'foodie' series where she compares fast food burgers. Downtrodden and browbeaten, Big Becky grunts acknowledgement of the task, fatly, stumbling out the door with a beer in one hand and car keys in the other. She solemnly starts up the car and the engine heaves, struggling to carry the 400 lbs of excess on her journey away from Fag Island and Amber smiles, fatly, to her self, patting her four stomachs and thinks "Dont worry boys--tonight we feast."
I dont know why this is making me giggle as much as it is. I feel like Im a 6 year old boy again, laughing at farts for the first time. I cant stop, Im retarded.
"Fatly" is my new favorite adverb. Check it out:
"BEEEECKKKYYYYYY You got me BAKED cheetos! GO THE FUCK BACK TO THE STORE and get me the regular ones!" Amber wailed, fatly, from pillow mountain. The excess adipose in her jowls wobbled, fatly reverberating from the force of her shrill harping for more tendies from atop her throne of fat, demanding Big Becky also stop at Burger King and Mcdonalds for a double whopper with a paper crown from the Burger King Kids Club and a double big mac respectively for her new 'foodie' series where she compares fast food burgers. Downtrodden and browbeaten, Big Becky grunts acknowledgement of the task, fatly, stumbling out the door with a beer in one hand and car keys in the other. She solemnly starts up the car and the engine heaves, struggling to carry the 400 lbs of excess on her journey away from Fag Island and Amber smiles, fatly, to her self, patting her four stomachs and thinks "Dont worry boys--tonight we feast."
I dont know why this is making me giggle as much as it is. I feel like Im a 6 year old boy again, laughing at farts for the first time. I cant stop, Im retarded.