Class Reunion
Class Reunion
When the invitation for my 5 year class reunion came in the mail, I almost had a nervous breakdown. You see, Woofburger was not always an alpha male pimp with 18 inch pythons. In fact, high school was hell for me; I graduated at 105 lbs and was constantly tortured by my classmates.
After graduation, I spent three years in my basement with my cat, lifting weights and eating cans of tuna like they were junior mints. The only time I came out was to go to night classes at a local college. Since that time, I have built my body into a rock hard temple and am also a self-made millionaire. I couldn't wait to show all the fuckers from high school what I had become.
The invitation said "Suit and tie", but if you know me, I'm just not a suit and tie kind of guy. I walked in dressed in my usual fur coat, aviators and beater, with a shovel. I also was carrying my homemade protein shake: 1 jar of Natty PB, 2 scoops of cottage cheese, one can of tuna, and a cup of oatmeal, all blended with skim milk. Delicious.
I walked in, lats flared and my adrenaline pumping. I was walking around like I owned the place. Two former classmates approached me.
Classmate #1: Hey I remember you! Hey Sully, remember this kid?
Classmate #2: Oh yeah, that's the one we used to strip naked, wrapped in ceran wrap and tie to the flagpole. You got a lot bigger man. How ya been?
I felt the rage burn up inside of me. I grabbed each of them by the throat and dragged them into a back room, where I beat both of them unconscious with my shovel.
"How does it feel...? How does it FUCKIN' feel?!" I screamed at their motionless bodies.
Next stop I headed to the bathroom, where I stripped down to my Speedo and oiled up my body. "You've been waiting 5 years for this." I told myself, psyching myself up. I felt like Eminem before the rap battle in 8 mile.
I headed to the stage, pointed to the DJ, indicating for him to start playing my song.
"Welcome to the jungle" blared throughout the room, as I began my pose down. Side Chest, Back double, Most Muscular, I showed off every pose in the book. I watched the stunned reaction of male classmates, while women flocked with dollar bills.
"Take it off, Woof!" When I hit the crowd with my signature lat flare, the screams were deafening. One girl even fainted.
I put my fur coat back on and started to walk out. Someone grabbed me by the arm. Tiffany Brown. Nicknamed "Pass Around Brown" for her reputation of having the offensive line run a train on her under the bleachers. She still looked the same. Hot face, nice body, huge tits.
"What the fuck do you want?" I screamed at her.
Tiffany: Well, I thought that was really amazing. My husband's body is- well, not that great. I mean, he's rich and all, but it’s just so hard to find that total package of wealthy and jacked.
Me: <Waving my BMW key in her face> Yeah, I guess so.
Tiffany: Oh god, a BMW. Will you take me for a ride?
Me: <Keeping it Alpha> I want gas money and a blow job out of it.
Tiffany: <Handing me a $20> You drive a hard bargain, but I accept!
I took her for a 2 minute ride into one of the busiest sections of Blair and told her to slob my knob.
Tiffany: Here? In the middle of the city? This is so dangerous!
Me: Tinted windows, cupcake. Now suck.
She knew what she was doing. An absolute Hoover Vacuum.
Me: Hey Tiff, remember the time you asked me to the prom, but then when I showed up at your house you had the football team drive by and throw eggs at me, and then your real boyfriend took you to the prom?
Tiffany: <Mouthful of dong> Mmmm… Mmmm.
Me: Well, I never got to tell you how I felt about that.
I pulled my dick out of her mouth and jerked off in her eyes. Two shots of baby batter in each pupil.
Tiffany: Oh god, what the fuck! I can't fuckin’ see!
I opened her door and pushed her into the street, in only her underwear and shoes. Keep in mind this is one of the busiest intersections in Blair.
I pull my beamer about 50 feet from her, take her clothes and pour some gasoline on them, and light a match. Meanwhile, Tiff was stumbling around like Stevie Wonder on crack.
Tiffany: <Screaming> YOU FUCKIN’ PRICK! GET BACK HERE!
The glare of the pile of clothes on fire reflected in my aviators.
Me: Revenge is a bitch, Tiff, isn’t it? REVENGE IS A BITCH!
I pulled into my beamer and sped away, laughing like a madman and beeping my horn. I looked in my rearview and saw Tiff standing there, clueless.
A small smile crossed my face. "Revenge is a beautiful thing," I thought to myself, lighting up a cigar and speeding home.
After graduation, I spent three years in my basement with my cat, lifting weights and eating cans of tuna like they were junior mints. The only time I came out was to go to night classes at a local college. Since that time, I have built my body into a rock hard temple and am also a self-made millionaire. I couldn't wait to show all the fuckers from high school what I had become.
The invitation said "Suit and tie", but if you know me, I'm just not a suit and tie kind of guy. I walked in dressed in my usual fur coat, aviators and beater, with a shovel. I also was carrying my homemade protein shake: 1 jar of Natty PB, 2 scoops of cottage cheese, one can of tuna, and a cup of oatmeal, all blended with skim milk. Delicious.
I walked in, lats flared and my adrenaline pumping. I was walking around like I owned the place. Two former classmates approached me.
Classmate #1: Hey I remember you! Hey Sully, remember this kid?
Classmate #2: Oh yeah, that's the one we used to strip naked, wrapped in ceran wrap and tie to the flagpole. You got a lot bigger man. How ya been?
I felt the rage burn up inside of me. I grabbed each of them by the throat and dragged them into a back room, where I beat both of them unconscious with my shovel.
"How does it feel...? How does it FUCKIN' feel?!" I screamed at their motionless bodies.
Next stop I headed to the bathroom, where I stripped down to my Speedo and oiled up my body. "You've been waiting 5 years for this." I told myself, psyching myself up. I felt like Eminem before the rap battle in 8 mile.
I headed to the stage, pointed to the DJ, indicating for him to start playing my song.
"Welcome to the jungle" blared throughout the room, as I began my pose down. Side Chest, Back double, Most Muscular, I showed off every pose in the book. I watched the stunned reaction of male classmates, while women flocked with dollar bills.
"Take it off, Woof!" When I hit the crowd with my signature lat flare, the screams were deafening. One girl even fainted.
I put my fur coat back on and started to walk out. Someone grabbed me by the arm. Tiffany Brown. Nicknamed "Pass Around Brown" for her reputation of having the offensive line run a train on her under the bleachers. She still looked the same. Hot face, nice body, huge tits.
"What the fuck do you want?" I screamed at her.
Tiffany: Well, I thought that was really amazing. My husband's body is- well, not that great. I mean, he's rich and all, but it’s just so hard to find that total package of wealthy and jacked.
Me: <Waving my BMW key in her face> Yeah, I guess so.
Tiffany: Oh god, a BMW. Will you take me for a ride?
Me: <Keeping it Alpha> I want gas money and a blow job out of it.
Tiffany: <Handing me a $20> You drive a hard bargain, but I accept!
I took her for a 2 minute ride into one of the busiest sections of Blair and told her to slob my knob.
Tiffany: Here? In the middle of the city? This is so dangerous!
Me: Tinted windows, cupcake. Now suck.
She knew what she was doing. An absolute Hoover Vacuum.
Me: Hey Tiff, remember the time you asked me to the prom, but then when I showed up at your house you had the football team drive by and throw eggs at me, and then your real boyfriend took you to the prom?
Tiffany: <Mouthful of dong> Mmmm… Mmmm.
Me: Well, I never got to tell you how I felt about that.
I pulled my dick out of her mouth and jerked off in her eyes. Two shots of baby batter in each pupil.
Tiffany: Oh god, what the fuck! I can't fuckin’ see!
I opened her door and pushed her into the street, in only her underwear and shoes. Keep in mind this is one of the busiest intersections in Blair.
I pull my beamer about 50 feet from her, take her clothes and pour some gasoline on them, and light a match. Meanwhile, Tiff was stumbling around like Stevie Wonder on crack.
Tiffany: <Screaming> YOU FUCKIN’ PRICK! GET BACK HERE!
The glare of the pile of clothes on fire reflected in my aviators.
Me: Revenge is a bitch, Tiff, isn’t it? REVENGE IS A BITCH!
I pulled into my beamer and sped away, laughing like a madman and beeping my horn. I looked in my rearview and saw Tiff standing there, clueless.
A small smile crossed my face. "Revenge is a beautiful thing," I thought to myself, lighting up a cigar and speeding home.
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- Diamond Member
- Posts: 6990
- Joined: Thursday Oct 28, 2004
- Location: Not here ..
Not that I was a fan of yours to begin with, but you're stuff is getting really lame. I think it's time to hang it up.
Jae Smith
Root and The Fifths
www.rootandthefifths.com
www.facebook.com/rootandthefifths
www.twitter.com/rootfifths
www.pabands.com
Root and The Fifths
www.rootandthefifths.com
www.facebook.com/rootandthefifths
www.twitter.com/rootfifths
www.pabands.com
- Craven Sound
- Platinum Member
- Posts: 695
- Joined: Wednesday Aug 06, 2003
- Location: Cambria County, PA
I want that 778th post...so, I don't think I will.
Jae Smith
Root and The Fifths
www.rootandthefifths.com
www.facebook.com/rootandthefifths
www.twitter.com/rootfifths
www.pabands.com
Root and The Fifths
www.rootandthefifths.com
www.facebook.com/rootandthefifths
www.twitter.com/rootfifths
www.pabands.com
Yeah, if you don't have close to a thousand, how can we even begin to think that you are commited to this site!!esa wrote:I agree... You know, what kind of losers have more than 700 posts to their names anyways... ::rolls eyes:: You disgust me. ::shakes head::
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p.s. Woofy - ah forget it!!
A liberal is someone who feels a great debt to his fellow man; a debt he proposes to pay off with your money. -G Gordon Liddy
I felt the rage burn up inside of me. I grabbed each of them by the throat and dragged them into a back room, where I beat both of them unconscious with my shovel.
"How does it feel...? How does it FUCKIN' feel?!" I screamed at their motionless bodies.
Next stop I headed to the bathroom, where I stripped down to my Speedo and oiled up my body. "You've been waiting 5 years for this." I told myself, psyching myself up. I felt like Eminem before the rap battle in 8 mile.
Fu#king garbage!!! This is a music web site not jerk-off loser .com
- Punkinhead
- Diamond Member
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- Joined: Thursday Jun 19, 2003
- Location: The ninth circle of Hell