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HOGWILD.NET semi-hilarious comedy: funny orgasm jokes and pictures The Orgasm Flower, Big floppy man hooters, and stupid jewelry. |
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HogWild in Hawaii! Part 3: Jewelry, Mooters, and the Orgasm Flower |
Hawaii’s oceans are spectacular. Crystal clear water. But for me, I always have the same problem when I first enter the water. I have to get adjusted to the coldness. I see people jump right in, splashing, and immerse themselves without so much as even a shudder. Not me. I’m a big pizzolli. I tip-toe in and squeal like a baby pig who sat on a rusty thumbtack. Then I’m like, “Okay, this isn’t so bad. Feels kinda nice on my feet. I’ll venture further." Then it gets really cold again at my knees. Then it’s another 20 minutes before I make the Final Leap. The real problem doesn’t come until the cool water reaches sack-level. Yeah nubs, you know what I mean. My grapes are very sensitive.
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I wonder what my testicles
are thinking as I slowly try to submerge them in this ice water. My
grapes must be like, “Oh my God! He’s trying to drown us!”
Either that or they think I’m freezing my spermies so they can be
genetically mutated by future generations. But it’s really a pathetic
show: me standing there on my toes trying not to let my grapes get
splashed by the waves. But I’ve got a new approach. I tea-bag ‘em
in. I bob up and down. I drop the tea bag in. Yowww! Lift the
tea-bag out. Then back in. I know I’m queer. But that’s me. And forget
about the ordeal when I get to my mipples. (That’s man-nipples for you
ignant foolz.) Which reminds me, there was this big Hawaiian dude in the
water with huge mooters! Yeah you know, Man-Hooters. I wonder if
gay guys like men with mooters. Do they act as juvenile as I do when I see
women with big ‘uns? Do they chant: “MOOTERS! MOOTERS!
MOOTERS!” I know I did.
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And to think, if
I didn’t resist my instincts to be a pizzolli and get out of the chilly
water I would have missed an awesome experience. Snorkeling. It
was incredible. I saw fish that I’ve only seen before in Aquariums. And
they swam right up to you! We actually brought popcorn to attract the
fish. They loved it! They swam up and ate the popcorn. But then they
started to bitch that it didn’t have enough butter. Damn fish. And
yes, as I was admiring these incredible creations of God, I did try to
catch one and squeeze its head off for dinner. I can’t help it!
I’m a man! I was in such awe of these beautiful tropical fish. Neon
colors. Happy pink fish. Smiling blue fish. But some hormone in my brain
keep pushing me, “KILL! KILL! KILL!”
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Isn’t
that sad? This was one of the most awesome experiences of my life and
I’m flailing around slapping at fish. But to be honest I had been
snorkeling one time previously. It was at Orchard Beach in the Bronx. All
I saw was a Jelly Fish. But it didn't bite me because it was a used
condom. I
wish I had decent pictures of what I saw in those Hawaiian waters. I got
this underwater camera but it doesn’t come close to showing the depths
of ocean floor, the intricate exquisiteness of the coral reef, or
the magnificent cleavage of this random bim I saw swimming by. Damn
it! I hate getting slapped for nothing!
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But
I could have missed out on this if I had been a big baby about it. Too
scared to try it. That’s a Life Lesson I learned. If you want to
experience new and awesome things you have to take risks. You have
to leave your comfort-zone. If you have a dream, go out and get it. Do
what it takes. Don’t be a pizzolli. Take a chance.
Strap on your
grapes and get out there. Damn,
I should be a motivational speaker. Nah, too lazy.
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My wonderful
woman, Mrs. Potato-Head, was trying to get me to buy a Hawaiian shirt for
myself. I don’t know. They’re kinda gay. It’s like they have this
big open chest thing going on. And I don’t have a chest. My chest looks
like it belongs on a disabled chicken. But she really wanted my to
get one. She was like, “Ooh get this one. It’s such a pretty
color!” But I was like, “You’re not helping woman!” Bims,
never tell your man his shirt is a pretty color. Unless of course you hate
his shirt. Because after that he’ll never wear it again.
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Everywhere
we travel there always seems to be a jewelry store. I think
they’re following me. What’s with women and jewelry? How many
different ways can you decorate your ear lobes? Do your fingers really
need to draped in diamonds? I guess I shouldn’t talk. As soon as I get
rich I’m getting my gold teeth. Not just one. I mean the entire
mouth-guard like East Coast gangsta rappers. Mine will cover all of my top
teeth and diamonds will spell out HOGWILD.NET. Gotta promote!
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Why does the
jewelry store lady always wear all her merchandise at once? It’s so
tacky! It’s all mismatch too. This jewelry lady had 2 bracelets on
each arm, 7 necklaces. What if the make-up lady did that? Wore 3
different shades of lipstick at the same time? What if the clothing store
bim did that? She’d have like 3 shirts with 5 purses slung over her
shoulders. “That’s a nice purse sweetie! I thought about getting it
for myself!”
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Mrs. P had her eyes on these gold flower earrings. Sixty units! HELL NO! I was like, “How about I buy you an ice cream cone and we call it even?” This was one battle I actually won. She didn’t get the earrings. But even when I win I lose. I had to hear about it the whole trip. “You know what would go perfectly with this dress? Those gold flower earrings!” Shut up woman! Sometimes I wish we lived in Iran so if she complains I could just slice off her earlobes. Yeah, now what?! No ear lobes, no earrings! But knowing my woman she’d be like, “I need jewelry for my bloody ear stubs!” |
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But I’m trying my bootleg psychology on her. I’ll go up to her and be like, “Damn, your ears look fat today.” Then the next day when she’s wearing a pair of earring that I bought for her, “Wow, your tiny little ears look so cute! Have you lost weight? And your eyes look even prettier than usual.” Eventually I hope this will modify her behavior.
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The
flower earrings she wanted were actually cute, just not 60 bacon bits cute.
They were Gardenias. Hawaiian Gardenias are the best-smelling
flower ever. Normally I don’t give a rat’s dirty ass how a
flower smells. But not the Gardenia. Oh it’s so good. I could have an orgasm
smelling this flower. Imagine the sexiest, prettiest bim you’ve
ever been around. She might be tall and thin. Smooth, silky skin. Long
luxurious hair. Everything about her is feminine. Distinct and delicate
facial features. Soft pouting lips. Perfectly straight white teeth.
Aching eyes calling out to you. Now imagine how she |
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The
thing is she never wears the jewelry I've already bought for her. And she
won’t let me sell it either. So she has this drawer full of jewelry that
she never wears. What the hell is that? I have a gold chain my
parents got me when I graduated from 8th grade. I still wear
it. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever taken it off. EVER. Now that’s a
good return on investment. I’ll be 112 years old and still
wearing it. It pays for itself. Then I think about the stuff I’ve bought
for my woman. It’s not a good investment when she only wears it for 6
months. Hell I should start renting jewelry. Every day I do a jewelry
check on my bim. I check her from head to toe and give her a grade. I
start at the ears, then the neck, then the wrists, then the fingers. I’m
lucky if she wears her wedding ring.
smells. Her airy scent with overtones of sweet seduction. That’s
how Gardenia smells to me. I could bathe in it. I love it so much