By J.R. Smith
One morning I woke up when the cock crowed. I fed my pussy and went to purchase a faggot of wood. I was feeling a little queer so I smoked a fag, hoping it would ease the pain in my joints. Soon, I was my gay old self.
As I passed a dyke, I ate some fruit and noticed I was being watched from behind a tree by a private dick. I ignored him and went on my way. After I bought my wood, I realized I had been screwed. “That was a niggardly thing for you to do!” I yelled.
I am sick and tired of people usurping my words and turning their meanings into what they are not. Hooray for Mr. Boaz.
J.R. Smith
Kelseyville
Originally Published:
