Culburn, in Las Vegas

[Giuseppe]

.

[William Hung]

You may have found your true calling as an erotica novelist. Your alias should be Pedobear.

[Koolaid_Man]

Cully my man...not that I would know but you're:


aIrCFrFpHvw

[DMC]

Did she really say "swell"?

[midnightpulp]

Culburn going to the Chuckbox:

There you were, on top of the world, cruising down the highway with a trunk full of rope, duct tape, and cases of chloroform. You felt your heart pound in your chest as you got closer, excited, but also somewhat disillusioned by the fact that the extra blood pumping through your veins wouldn't help you achieve an erection any easier. Then you remembered the butt end of the pool cue you had lying on the back seat, which would do the job you couldn't, and you felt your fear of inadequacy disappear.

Big smile on your face now as the parking lot came into view. You were moments away from a good burger, some stimulating basketball conversation, maybe a few laughs. It was going to be a great lunch, which you planned would conclude with the limp body of a college student being carried over your shoulder and dumped into your trunk. You saw yourself driving home, carefully, not wanting to alert any cops, thrilled knowing that another victim was going to experience your dungeon of fun, which you have soundproofed so Katie-Girl can't hear the screams.

So you entered. Strutted in with the kind of confidence that only a 16 time champion-cum-serial rapist possesses. You swiveled your head side-to-side, excited to catch a glimpse of the face that would, in a few hours, be twisted in pain as you applied your time honored methods.

But there wasn't any young man to be seen. Just a few diners, all middle-aged, pot-bellied, and saggy, characteristics you find appalling. At that moment, you had an idea to put each and every one of these sad excuses out of their misery. But as quick as the idea flashed into your head, it left. You were here for him, and besides, you left the pick-axe in the garage, which is your preferred instrument to use in a mass murdering situation. Plus, Katie-girl was all out of Tide Stain Release, and you didn't feel like ruining your freshly ironed Herringbone dress shirt with the blood and brain matter of insignificant people. Today, only one person had any sort of significance to you.

Where is he?

You walked up and down the restaurant, the sizzling meat aroma reminding you of that boy you picked up in Flagstaff a year-and-a-half ago, except he was much larger than a burger and didn't fit on the grill so easily. You looked into each booth, looked over each table. Nothing. He wasn't there.

You got home. Katie-Girl noticed your down-turned mouth, your clenched jaw, your narrow eyes, the look of a beaten man. What happened? She asked.

"He's out, and he's staying out."

http://www.travelmamas.com/media/phoenix_chuckbox.jpg

[Dr House]

Culburn going to the Chuckbox:

There you were, on top of the world, cruising down the highway with a trunk full of rope, duct tape, and cases of chloroform. You felt your heart pound in your chest as you got closer, excited, but also somewhat disillusioned by the fact that the extra blood pumping through your veins wouldn't help you achieve an erection any easier. Then you remembered the butt end of the pool cue you had lying on the back seat, which would do the job you couldn't, and you felt your fear of inadequacy disappear.

Big smile on your face now as the parking lot came into view. You were moments away from a good burger, some stimulating basketball conversation, maybe a few laughs. It was going to be a great lunch, which you planned would conclude with the limp body of a college student being carried over your shoulder and dumped into your trunk. You saw yourself driving home, carefully, not wanting to alert any cops, thrilled knowing that another victim was going to experience your dungeon of fun, which you have soundproofed so Katie-Girl can't hear the screams.

So you entered. Strutted in with the kind of confidence that only a 16 time champion-cum-serial rapist possesses. You swiveled your head side-to-side, excited to catch a glimpse of the face that would, in a few hours, be twisted in pain as you applied your time honored methods.

But there wasn't any young man to be seen. Just a few diners, all middle-aged, pot-bellied, and saggy, characteristics you find appalling. At the moment, you had an idea to put each and every one of these sad excuses out of their misery. But as quick as the idea flashed into your head, it left. You were here for him, and besides, you left the pick-axe in the garage, which is your preferred instrument to use in mass murdering situation. Plus, Katie-girl was all out of Tide Stain Release, and you didn't feel like ruining your freshly ironed Herringbone dress shirt with the blood and brain matter of insignificant people. Today, only one person had any sort of significance to you.

Where is he?

You walked up and down the restaurant, the sizzling meat aroma reminding you of that boy you picked up in Flagstaff a year and a half ago, except he was much larger than a burger and didn't fit on the grill so easily. You looked into each booth, looked over each table. Nothing. He wasn't there.

You got home. Katie-Girl noticed your down-turned mouth, your clenched jaw, your narrow eyes, the look of a beaten man. What happened? She asked.

"He's out, and he's staying out."

http://www.travelmamas.com/media/phoenix_chuckbox.jpg

:lmao:lmao:rollin:rollin:lmao:lmao:rollin:rollin:l mao:lmao:rollin:rollin:lmao:lmao:rollin:rollin:lma o:lmao:rollin:rollin

[Creepn]

"He's out and he's staying out."

I don't get it.

[Isitjustme?]

Culburn going to the Chuckbox:

There you were, on top of the world, cruising down the highway with a trunk full of rope, duct tape, and cases of chloroform. You felt your heart pound in your chest as you got closer, excited, but also somewhat disillusioned by the fact that the extra blood pumping through your veins wouldn't help you achieve an erection any easier. Then you remembered the butt end of the pool cue you had lying on the back seat, which would do the job you couldn't, and you felt your fear of inadequacy disappear.

Big smile on your face now as the parking lot came into view. You were moments away from a good burger, some stimulating basketball conversation, maybe a few laughs. It was going to be a great lunch, which you planned would conclude with the limp body of a college student being carried over your shoulder and dumped into your trunk. You saw yourself driving home, carefully, not wanting to alert any cops, thrilled knowing that another victim was going to experience your dungeon of fun, which you have soundproofed so Katie-Girl can't hear the screams.

So you entered. Strutted in with the kind of confidence that only a 16 time champion-cum-serial rapist possesses. You swiveled your head side-to-side, excited to catch a glimpse of the face that would, in a few hours, be twisted in pain as you applied your time honored methods.

But there wasn't any young man to be seen. Just a few diners, all middle-aged, pot-bellied, and saggy, characteristics you find appalling. At that moment, you had an idea to put each and every one of these sad excuses out of their misery. But as quick as the idea flashed into your head, it left. You were here for him, and besides, you left the pick-axe in the garage, which is your preferred instrument to use in a mass murdering situation. Plus, Katie-girl was all out of Tide Stain Release, and you didn't feel like ruining your freshly ironed Herringbone dress shirt with the blood and brain matter of insignificant people. Today, only one person had any sort of significance to you.

Where is he?

You walked up and down the restaurant, the sizzling meat aroma reminding you of that boy you picked up in Flagstaff a year-and-a-half ago, except he was much larger than a burger and didn't fit on the grill so easily. You looked into each booth, looked over each table. Nothing. He wasn't there.

You got home. Katie-Girl noticed your down-turned mouth, your clenched jaw, your narrow eyes, the look of a beaten man. What happened? She asked.

"He's out, and he's staying out."

http://www.travelmamas.com/media/phoenix_chuckbox.jpg

:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao :lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao :lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao

[Isitjustme?]

:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao :lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao :lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao

[Monostradamus]

"He's out and he's staying out."

I don't get it.

stop pretending you're black.

[Monostradamus]

Cubby,

The Mavs rang. Dirk rang. Cuban rang. Terry rang. Caron Butler rang. They all rang. That's a shit sandwich you'll have to eat the rest of your life. You can hide all you want, but we won't let you run from this. Address the shit sandwich in your mouth.

[Giuseppe]

.

[Monostradamus]

The Dallas Mavericks are NBA World Champions. Just let that linger with you.

Caron Butler is an NBA World Champion. Savor that shit sandwich as it slides past your gullet.

[Monostradamus]

http://www.hd-wallpapers.com/download/dallas-mavs-trophy_1920x1200_452-wide.jpg

[Bill_Brasky]

Katie-girl: Cully, baby, what did you think of me on our honeymoon, when we got to the hotel and I slowly, erotically slipped out of my dress?

Culburn: I'll be straight-forward and to the point, darling. I wanted to fuck your pussy raw and suck those tits dry.

Katie-girl(posing like a model): And what do you think of me now?

Cully: I'd say I did a pretty damn good job.

[Creepn]

stop pretending you're black.

How I'm I pretending to be black again? I asked you this before and you never responded.

[benefactor]

Not bad.

8/10

[Monostradamus]

How I'm I pretending to be black again?

You know. Stop it.

[Fpoonsie]

Goin to Vegas on Monday, actually.

[Creepn]

You know. Stop it.

Sooo, you don't know. Stop it.

[jag]

Culburn going to the Chuckbox:

There you were, on top of the world, cruising down the highway with a trunk full of rope, duct tape, and cases of chloroform. You felt your heart pound in your chest as you got closer, excited, but also somewhat disillusioned by the fact that the extra blood pumping through your veins wouldn't help you achieve an erection any easier. Then you remembered the butt end of the pool cue you had lying on the back seat, which would do the job you couldn't, and you felt your fear of inadequacy disappear.

Big smile on your face now as the parking lot came into view. You were moments away from a good burger, some stimulating basketball conversation, maybe a few laughs. It was going to be a great lunch, which you planned would conclude with the limp body of a college student being carried over your shoulder and dumped into your trunk. You saw yourself driving home, carefully, not wanting to alert any cops, thrilled knowing that another victim was going to experience your dungeon of fun, which you have soundproofed so Katie-Girl can't hear the screams.

So you entered. Strutted in with the kind of confidence that only a 16 time champion-cum-serial rapist possesses. You swiveled your head side-to-side, excited to catch a glimpse of the face that would, in a few hours, be twisted in pain as you applied your time honored methods.

But there wasn't any young man to be seen. Just a few diners, all middle-aged, pot-bellied, and saggy, characteristics you find appalling. At that moment, you had an idea to put each and every one of these sad excuses out of their misery. But as quick as the idea flashed into your head, it left. You were here for him, and besides, you left the pick-axe in the garage, which is your preferred instrument to use in a mass murdering situation. Plus, Katie-girl was all out of Tide Stain Release, and you didn't feel like ruining your freshly ironed Herringbone dress shirt with the blood and brain matter of insignificant people. Today, only one person had any sort of significance to you.

Where is he?

You walked up and down the restaurant, the sizzling meat aroma reminding you of that boy you picked up in Flagstaff a year-and-a-half ago, except he was much larger than a burger and didn't fit on the grill so easily. You looked into each booth, looked over each table. Nothing. He wasn't there.

You got home. Katie-Girl noticed your down-turned mouth, your clenched jaw, your narrow eyes, the look of a beaten man. What happened? She asked.

"He's out, and he's staying out."

http://www.travelmamas.com/media/phoenix_chuckbox.jpg


:lmao :lmao holy shit

[DMC]

http://www.spurstalk.com/forums/showthread.php?t=164005

Short memories

[jman3000]

"I crawled beneath the blankets and gently pulled his panties off and kissed her thighs as softly as I could. She spread them in response and I went down to her knees & calves."


The fuck?

[Fabbs]

"I crawled beneath the blankets and gently pulled his panties off and kissed her thighs as softly as I could. She spread them in response and I went down to her knees & calves."


The fuck?
He's finally coming out. :lol


Giuseppe Again, I held his sphincter gently between my teeth. Again, I bit down ever so carefully. Again, ever so gently.

He was cognizant enough to grab hold of the blanket edge and put it into his mouth as his release instantly overwhelmed him.

"Let it all out, Kobe-boi. Cully is here. He'll watch over you now. I'm here, angel."

[JJ Hickson]

I came buckets

[Giuseppe]

.

[BlackSwordsMan]

no one is reading any of that sieppe

[koriwhat]

what a dumb fuckin' thread... some old dude writing way too much bs no one is going to read, masking that bs in black text so it's even harder to read, and then proceeding to type up even more bs that won't be read and that no one gives a fuck about to begin with.

[Giuseppe]

.

[Axe Murderer]

c'mon eppe

your embarrasing me. so basically you licked her clit once and she fell asleep? that's not much to be proud of. giuseppe, you betta then det!

[Leetonidas]

http://assets0.ordienetworks.com/images/GifGuide/clapping/busey_clapping.gif

[xellos88330]

Culburn going to the Chuckbox:

There you were, on top of the world, cruising down the highway with a trunk full of rope, duct tape, and cases of chloroform. You felt your heart pound in your chest as you got closer, excited, but also somewhat disillusioned by the fact that the extra blood pumping through your veins wouldn't help you achieve an erection any easier. Then you remembered the butt end of the pool cue you had lying on the back seat, which would do the job you couldn't, and you felt your fear of inadequacy disappear.

Big smile on your face now as the parking lot came into view. You were moments away from a good burger, some stimulating basketball conversation, maybe a few laughs. It was going to be a great lunch, which you planned would conclude with the limp body of a college student being carried over your shoulder and dumped into your trunk. You saw yourself driving home, carefully, not wanting to alert any cops, thrilled knowing that another victim was going to experience your dungeon of fun, which you have soundproofed so Katie-Girl can't hear the screams.

So you entered. Strutted in with the kind of confidence that only a 16 time champion-cum-serial rapist possesses. You swiveled your head side-to-side, excited to catch a glimpse of the face that would, in a few hours, be twisted in pain as you applied your time honored methods.

But there wasn't any young man to be seen. Just a few diners, all middle-aged, pot-bellied, and saggy, characteristics you find appalling. At that moment, you had an idea to put each and every one of these sad excuses out of their misery. But as quick as the idea flashed into your head, it left. You were here for him, and besides, you left the pick-axe in the garage, which is your preferred instrument to use in a mass murdering situation. Plus, Katie-girl was all out of Tide Stain Release, and you didn't feel like ruining your freshly ironed Herringbone dress shirt with the blood and brain matter of insignificant people. Today, only one person had any sort of significance to you.

Where is he?

You walked up and down the restaurant, the sizzling meat aroma reminding you of that boy you picked up in Flagstaff a year-and-a-half ago, except he was much larger than a burger and didn't fit on the grill so easily. You looked into each booth, looked over each table. Nothing. He wasn't there.

You got home. Katie-Girl noticed your down-turned mouth, your clenched jaw, your narrow eyes, the look of a beaten man. What happened? She asked.

"He's out, and he's staying out."

http://www.travelmamas.com/media/phoenix_chuckbox.jpg

Oh shit!!! :lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao:lmao

Well done. :toast

[DJ Mbenga]

"Cubby! Look!" She'd startled me upon her return. She was standing between our loungers with the drinks.

I looked down. My trunks had grotesquely twisted themselves around my burgeoning cock. I quickly threw my towel over it.

:lol

[DJ Mbenga]

c'mon eppe

your embarrasing me. so basically you licked her clit once and she fell asleep? that's not much to be proud of. giuseppe, you betta then det!

http://www.midwestsportsfans.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/guy-shuts-up-girlfriend-during-denver-oklahoma-city-game.gif

[Leetonidas]

^lol wtf?? :lmao

[Monostradamus]

c'mon eppe

your embarrasing me. so basically you licked her clit once and she fell asleep? that's not much to be proud of. giuseppe, you betta then det!

ius doesn't want to travel the the outside of the boundaries and vibrate his vocal chords in a manner which produces sound as a means of communicating with the aged oblong spheroid teacher after det one.

[Axe Murderer]

:lol

[Giuseppe]

.

[Giuseppe]

.

[Giuseppe]

.

[midnightpulp]

Katie-girl, in Las Vegas.

"Kobe five, Duncan four...Kobe five, Duncan four...Kobe five, Duncan four..."

Culburn timed his favorite phrase with each thrust, and with each thrust, the words grew louder. These words, which Culburn has been saying night and day for a year, were delivered with a breathless, high-pitched voice that tells me he is nearing his climax.

"Kobe five, Duncan four!"

"Kobe five, Duncan..."

The last of the phrase was replaced by a sustained moan that lasted about ten seconds, which quickly dropped in frequency to a rhythmic pant. I parted my legs and Culburn rolled off of me. He lied there, bathed in the neon of Vegas, catching his breath. I lied beside him, thinking about anything but him or the last two minutes, which were like every other two minutes since our honeymoon.

Culburn's stamina gives another one of his favorite phrases, "That's it and that's all," a new meaning, indeed, one that Culburn definitely would not appreciate, because in his mind, he is the lover of lovers, a regular Casanova that women the world over would kill sleep to with. Truth is, Culburn has all of the sexual sophistication of a schoolboy. And for me, a woman who has never known another man, to make such an observation without any kind of compare and contrast says a lot.

He caught his breath and said, "Koolaid Man invited us to dinner tomorrow. Buffet at the Circus-Circus. We're paying of course."

"I hate that n-----."

The words just flew out, right through that part of our brains that keep our prejudices, fetishes, temptations and other inappropriate thoughts and feelings locked up where, for most people, the people we deem "socially well adjusted," they serve a life sentence as our dark side.

I just let a prisoner escape. And Culburn got out the search light, which is a metaphor for that steely eyed stare he gets when the Lakers lose, when a college student stands him up at restaurant, and in this case, when his beloved wife says n-----.

"I can't believe you just said that," Culburn said. "Koolaid Man's the goods and you just called him the n-word."

"I'm sorry, Cubby," Oh how I hate calling him Cubby. I gave an apologetic tug to his post-orgasm member, which had all the consistency of regurgitated hot-dog, or so I imagine, since I've never taken it upon myself to find a vomited up weiner and examine what it feels like.

"That's okay, baby. We don't have to oblige. We'll go catch Danny Gans instead."

"He's dead."

"I know."

A joke. Ha-ha. I gave Culburn a playful slap. "Think I'm gonna take a shower," he said. He pecked me on the cheek. "Even if you have a little racist in ya, you're still my Katie-Girl." With that, he disappeared into the bathroom. I reclined into the bed and stared up at the ceiling, which was illuminated with a kaleidoscope of neon that seemed to dance.

I thought about what Culburn just said, and you also might think I have some racist in me, but I don't. N----- didn't escape from the prejudice cell block in that part of our brains we keep our dark side prisoner, it escaped from another area, the fetish cell block, released by the inadequacy I feel as a woman.

The fetish I have for black men started when I was a young girl. I'm not sure how it began, it just kind have always existed. I grew up in an all white small town, and dad refused to buy a television, so I wasn't able to see black musicians, actors, preachers, or athletes, therefore the black man remained on the edge of my consciousness, as something mysterious, alien, and forbidden. Only in school is where I could learn about them, and one day in my 8th grade history class, as the teacher talked about slavery, I had my first and most intense fantasy.

If you would've looked at me at that instant, you would've seen my eyes widen and stare far away into something you yourself couldn't see. If you would've tried to talk to me, I wouldn't have responded, because I was in a place where I couldn't hear your words. I was deep into my thoughts, which had widened into the landscape of a daydream that I was helpless to escape from.

It was 1858 Louisiana. I was the only daughter of a wealthy plantation owner. As you might have already guessed, we had many slaves. I was 13 and on the verge of womanhood. Father rode into Baton Rouge one day for a meeting with the Governor, who was a close friend of his. Father had no qualms about leaving me alone with the slaves, which I understand isn't completely realistic, but this is a fantasy after all.

I was in my room reading a passage from the Bible, wearing a pure white lace dress. Outside, the birds were signing, a breeze fluttered the curtains, and a shaft of sunlight spanned the room. I lifted my eyes from Exodus and took a moment to enjoy the contentment that seemed ubiquitous throughout my body. Then suddenly, the cramping I experienced all week long, which I thought had finally stopped, returned with an intensity unlike before. I fell from my chair and collapsed to the floor. As the tears welled up, I felt a dampness between my legs. I looked down and noticed my white dress turning red, the color of blood. I had no choice but to scream.

Moments later, Ezekial, a slave of about 20 and father's stable boy, rushed in, frightened at the sight of a bloody 13 year old girl crumpled on the floor, clutching at her belly as if nails were being driven into it.

"Miss Katie, whassa matter?" Ezekial said.

"I-I dunno. I just started bleeding for no reason," I replied, trying my best to hold back the tears.

"Didya cut yourself or somethin'?"

I shook my head.

"Where it hurt?" Ezekial said.

I pointed at my belly. Ezekial inched closer and I inched away, wary of the slave's intentions, which I must admit was by my imagination's design, since I liked the idea of being this helpless girl somewhat afraid of Ezekial, this large, muscular, obsidian black negro whose mercy I was at.

Ezekial sensed my fear and halted. Smiling he said, "Don't worry, Miss Katie. I a good Christian man and would never in one million years think'a doing harm to you. I jus' wanna make sure you alright and don't need the hand of a docta to fix you up."

I nodded and allowed Ezekial closer. He smelled of hay and horse sweat, which stirred me, awakened in my a desire I never knew I had. His first gesture was not to check my body for injury but to wipe a freshly shed tear from my face. His finger was calloused and rough against my cheek, and at that moment, I loved him.

He said, "Now, now. Les' have a look."

He placed his hand on my belly and gently pressed. My breathing grew rapid at his touch.

"This hurt, Miss Katie?"

I shook my head.

Ezekial took his hand away, and I immediately felt a void, like some unknown part of my body was just amputated. I knew then I needed his touch like I needed my arms and legs.

He looked me over with brow furrowed and studied. His eyes traveled down to the source of my bleeding. He stroked his chin for a moment and then his face lit up with a smile.

He said, in a cheerful and singsong voice, "Aw shucks, Miss Katie. You alright. Today's the day God decided you become a woman."

I replied, "I can have babies now?"

"Yessam."

The room fell silent. And outside, the birds stopped singing, the wind stopped blowing, and the shaft of sunlight diffused into nothingness. Next, the walls of my room fell away, the blue sky turned to night, and we were surrounded by nothing except stars.

"Come here, Ezekial," I said.

The negro needed no further provocation. Incited by the scent of my blossoming womanhood and emergent sexuality, he took me in his arms, laid me down, and made love to me, under a canopy of stars.

I was a woman.

Now here in Vegas, I was a woman, but a woman very different from the one I imagined I be.

The bathroom door opened. Culburn stepped out wearing a towel around his waist. He smiled.

"Boiled down, it's still Kobe five, Duncan four."

I placated him with a smile of my own, as is custom when he utters any of his asinine sayings.

"Whatta ya say, Katie-girl? Round two with the ol' Cubster?"

I nodded. What else could I do?

And all I could think about during the uneventful two minutes was Ezekial and how I could make him a reality.

Tomorrow, I would figure out a way to fuck a black man.

[Giuseppe]

.

[DJ Mbenga]

http://images.hitfix.com/photos/770411/Mircea-Monroe-of-Extras_gallery_primary.jpg

[Nick Manning]

http://images.hitfix.com/photos/770411/Mircea-Monroe-of-Extras_gallery_primary.jpg

Nice.

Does she have different color eyes?:lol

[Giuseppe]

.

[Giuseppe]

.

[BlackSwordsMan]

do you think anyone is reading this copy and pasted drivel?

[cheguevara]

In the tree of woe,

Hey, Che,

It's Cubby. I need a clarification. In our ELE Thread: You said [until after the ASB.] I then accepted the bet as [until the ASB.]

Can I come back now, or, not until Tuesday?

All my love,

- Cubby


che 1 cully 0

:lmao

[dirk4mvp]

cully, did something bad happen that you wanna tell us?

[Giuseppe]

.

[Leetonidas]

^ :lmao

[Giuseppe]

.

[Giuseppe]

.

[Giuseppe]

.

[Giuseppe]

.

[Giuseppe]

.

[Koolaid_Man]

putting my bizness in the streets...but continue on I guess I deserve it....

[Giuseppe]

.

[Giuseppe]

.

[Koolaid_Man]

gotdamit man...I thought we agreed to keep silent about the fucking shit...better not tell Katie or else she wont come near me again...

[DPG21920]

Tyson = Kool = Obvious.

[Giuseppe]

.

[DUNCANownsKOBE]

I'm not being facetious, Kool. I'm stoic in this prediction. As a religion I don't do predictions, but, I feel strongly about this one. I know whence I speak and the Suns during this off-season have conjured the precise mixture of leavings & gettings. Pushing Amare out was genius. Quietly bringing Childress back across was genius. Somehow/someway getting the Knicks to give up that gigantic trade exception to enable Hedo was the crowning touch. He'll transcend Nash. Sky's the limit for this Suns team.

[DUNCANownsKOBE]

The players the Suns got, and the player they got rid of made them much stronger. I'm telling you right now:::Hedo & Childress are made for this team and for this town. I'm confident of those two and their impact. Warrick is either going to be something else again, or, a stumbler/bumbler. I think Nash will instill in him some quality court time where his impact will be decidedly positive. They feel they can mold Warrick from the ground up. Amare was staganant/static.

It's just my mere hunch on the Lakers. I sense calamity, upheaval there, strongly so. Its wide open in the West if we're compromised. The Suns are swell at stepping into a breach.

[DUNCANownsKOBE]

:lmao:lmao:lmao Warrick > Amare

[DUNCANownsKOBE]

Nash & Hedo will be the goods, fortifying each other from the opening bell. Childress will blossom under the tutelage of Nash, as will Warrick. JRich is in his contract year.

The subtraction of Amare can't be minimized. He was terrible here, on both ends. Had no clue how to play NBA ball. He'll be fine in NYC where symbolism over substance is honored.

Also, and just a hunch, but, I feel "disaster" about to befall the Lakers. We're overdue for it.

[Koolaid_Man]

Tyson = Kool = Obvious.

naw naw...Tyson don't know nothing bout the grown ass shit me Cully be gettin into....:lol

[Giuseppe]

.

[DUNCANownsKOBE]

Chapter 6 (continued)

"Well, what did he say?" She whispered. Those GD eyes. All lit up---4 o'clock in the morning.

"He said (Whatever she wants.)." I announced loudly & laughed.

"You're so mean, Culburn." Katie smacked me on the side of my head lightly. She made a small production out of climbing over the bed to get to Kool. He held the blankets for her and she scrambled in.

& so it started a final time.

Chapter 7.

I told Cully you two could sack out there on that bed, girl." It was now past 5.

"Uh, uh. I got to drive my boy downtown and buy him his Twinkie yet this morn, Kevin." She smiled over at me & winked. She kissed him then, lightly on the lips & donned his shirt.

"In fact, I'm going to change up and then we'll go, Cubby. You ready, baby?"

"I'm ready. I have to use it too before we go."

Katie excused herself & went into the bathroom.

"What a night, Cully." He dressed.

"It was all that. I'll never forget it. Neither with the girl. Trust me. I'll hear about this to the grave."

We then fell into & got lost in conversation about our imminent hunt for the three-peat.

"You two aren't taling about the Lakers again are you?" She'd come out, still in his shirt.

"You don't mind if I keep your shirt, Kevin, do you?" Katie had changed out. Her jeans were on below the knees. She'd reapplied her make-up & brushed her hair yet again.

"Whatever you want, baby." Kool had stood up next to the bed. I saw him there. Christ, the man was tall.

I'm going to use it, then we'll go, girl." I headed for the bathroom. I'd give them a few minutes.
Was this when Turkoglu was transcending Nash?

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[Koolaid_Man]

yeah you're right, i wouldn't know anything about cuckolding dirty old men by fucking their 50 something year old wives.

Cully got that pussy nice and moist for me over the years....:lol

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[silverblk mystix]

Hey Culb....


the lake show still got swept...


and there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it!

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1Al7AyUYImA

Katie-girl - "Black Velvet"

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[DeadlyDynasty]

Don't jump, Cub

[Fpoonsie]

:lmao

Jesus, Cully. You're so delightfully off-fucking-kilter.

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Sup, Alan

tee, hee.

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[Stringer_Bell]

Katie-girl looked good on prom night. Singing voice, not so much.

What exactly is this thread supposed to be about, btw?

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Alan I can take you

Pack a lunch, motherf'er. A big one. We're gonna stack some bricks.

Let us proceed...

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[Koolaid_Man]

I'm being cucked by Katie & her boss Kevin Proctor. Not Kool Aid Man.

We spent July 4th weekend in Northern Arizona at Proctor's cabin.


Just save some of that sweet stuff for Kool...you know I been good to Katie over the past 6 months...and I love a nothing better than a mature / milf...I like eating baked oatmeal raisin cookies after I give a hot-beef injection...so have Katie prepare me some for next time. :toast she can pack them in a zip lock

[Koolaid_Man]

I got one comin' you'll like. It's me and DoK over at ASU gettin' our gay on.


I can't wait to hear about it...Dok is the "catcher in the eye" (no pun) no doubt...:lol

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