Cue Eminem. Seriously. Cue that shit up, right now!
Guess who's back. Back again.
It's 'ah me. It's 'ah Luigi.
Ok,
I am not Luigi (no shit- you think a fictitous character would be writing the Whore of the Week? Share some of your weed with Doggy
if you thought so), but if I were to choose a Mario Brother to be it
would
be him. Mario gets all the attention. Fuck that attention whore.
Speaking of whores. Ooh, quite the segue right there. It is that time.
What time is that? Time to bust a funky rhyme? Time to suck a lime? No,
bitches, it's Whore of the Week time.
Hi,
my name is Gerald. You might have forgotten who I am. You see, I went
on a hiatus. That's right, I pretended I was a shitty show on NBC that
maybe a particular genre likes, but doesn't generate the numbers from
the 45-69 year old female crowd. So they take a break and revamp it a
little to make it more appealing to the menopausal crowd.
Ok, it's nothing like that at all. I was just typing what was on my
mind. That is until I realized that what was on my mind was this:
Not many people know this, but... DYKES!
Doesn't Estelle Getty look so
adorable? You know that she was a freak back in the day. I bet, that in
1874, she told
George Burns that he could stick his shriveled-up, rotten banana on the
top shelf of her produce section. Of course, they would
have been in their 50's even back then and it would still be
disgustingly disgusting, but you
get the point (especially since I said, "Disgustingly disgusting." Who
freakin' does that? I does. I also say, "does" instead of "do"
sometimes. Life is more funner that way. It makes things much more
gooder)... Bottom line, they had a pact with Satan.
George put his cigar where?
Speaking
of Satan. Another awesome segue on my part. Thank you, thank you. Save
the blowjobs for later. This week's whore might be Satan himself. She
sure looks like him.
From the armpits of hell; I present to you...
DamnCrackers.com's Whore of the Week for the week of July 23rd: Mistress Deja.
Normally I would put a caption here. Not this time. I haven't
written a DCWOTW in so long that I forgot the rules. That,
or I am just making up some new ones. Read the next paragraph
to see what I would have put under here. I did it because it would
have been too much to use as a caption, but look at what I am
doing right now. It's pretty fucked up because it's defeating the
purpose of why I started writing this. I am too far along to
delete this. Well, not too far along, just too lazy. The sad thing
is that this caption will probably be longer than what I would
have originally put. That and the fact that I already forgot
what I was going to put under this pic. Fuck!
There
is this porn series that is called "Trailer Trash Nurses." This skunky skank
is so skanky that the other skanks that were surely skanking it up on that
skanktastic set shrewdly scoffed at her skankitude.
I
was right, but hahaha, I knew what I was doing. It was just a clever
way to possibly elicit a cheap laugh out of you, the reader. Also,
alliteration allures our advocates of ass.
No more cheap ploys on my behalf. Let's get a'whorin'.
This hideous harlot makes me want to gouge my eyes out. I mean, look.
My cock is this big.
The
sad thing about me gouging my eyes out would be that she would probably
orgasm from it. You see, Satan is into S&M. By the way, you know
how we always nickname our tarts? Well, I dub thee, Satan. I forgot to
tell you all that earlier. That's why I just told you.
Apparently,
Satan wants slaves to apply to her. Equal Opportunity has really
dwindled in the past 400 years. Slaves used to just be given the job.
There was no application process.
Ed.
Note (I don't know why I am providing my own editor's note. Just be
thankful that it is not a note from some homeless bum named Ed.
Although a note from a bum named Ed could turn out to be funnier than
this): Black people, please don't hate me. It was just a joke. I know
that slavery is something that shouldn't be joked about. I also know
that eating something directly out of the oven is going be hot, but I
am really hungry sometimes.
What's the worst pain?
Getting whipped by Satan or
walking in on her pissing standing up
...
after you had sex with her?
Satan says, "I have had one of the roughest childhoods." Andrea Yates' 5 kids say, "Hellooo."
I really have no comment for this one. Nice shoes?
Ok, I thought we crossed Billy Corgan of the invite list.
This
freak said a lot of other garbage in her profile. To tell you the
truth, I got bored reading it. Bored isn't the right word. Not
interested in the first place is probably more apropos. I guess I
judged the book by the cover. I am sure that, deep down, Satan is a
nice girl. I bet she teaches Sunday School and takes care of the
elderly. Of course, she spanks their naughty little hineys when they
misbehave.
I
was going to end this here, but I something came up. No, not Satan's
cock. I was having a friend of mine proofread this for me and, as it
turns out, she once encountered this whore at a Strip Club in Tulsa.
Rumor has it that our little Satan has AIDS. It might just be a rumor
so I will let you all be the judge. Here is my friend's account of
their meeting:
Here is my true account of
my first, and intentionally last, encounter with Mistress Deja, or as I like to
call her Fuck you tranny, Im not paying you a dollar to make me bleed with my
own belt.
I first set eyes on this oh so alluring man er, woman at a strip
club on my first date with a guy (I know, I know what constitutes such a high
class first date you say? He was my manager at a restaurant and we had to keep
our romance secret and this is the most covert place he could conjure. Smooth,
yet tragically ineffective). For the clubs reputation and anonymity well call
it, ummm, Day Journeys?
So anyway, after enjoying a few sub-par lap
dances from women who were moderately attractive only in context (like I'll be
fooled by a little neon green nipple glitter?...no maam, I am still very
conscious that you have a horse face), they stop all of the music and announce
that this Mistress Deja will be on stage next and everyone, seriously,
everyone runs to perv row to obtain the closest seat possible to the stage. This
gets my middle aged date quite excited and he shoves me, not so nonchalantly,
towards the front of the stage.
Then comes some god awful metal music
that no ones ever heard of and I automatically realize that I havent ingested
nearly as many hard drugs in my life as I need to in order to belong here. But
did that stop me? Yeah right. I was enjoying myself at first, despite her
obvious pre-op appearance, because she was beating the shit out of people. Other
people. She came with her own whip, kind of like Sadist Barbie if you will, but
it soon became obvious that she preferred to use the props that you unknowingly
brought with you, i.e. belts, hats, beer mugs yeah. I was enjoying the hell out
of this until I realize that shes about two people away from me and my asshole
middle-aged boyfriend is holding ten bucks over my head. Not the typical dollar,
but ten dollars. No thanks, I'd like to keep all of my appendages.
It
wasnt easy, but I got out if only by the grace of the musical gods. In the
middle of her biting the shit out of the guys next to me until he bled (he loved
it mind you), the music faded and her set was over. She apparently does no
overtime b/c even for the ten dollars that was being so vehemently shoved in her
face by my future ex-boyfriend, she walked off the stage and left my body and
self-respect in tact.
All I wanted to do is go home and call everyone I
knew and tell them about my life changing experience, but alas, I withheld. I
found it to be much more beneficial for me to keep quiet. From that day on, I
sent many of my unknowing friends to Night Tripser Day Journeys to experience the
wrath of Mistress Deja, telling them of course that she was the best stripper Id
ever seen.
Im still being paid back to this day for it, but it was well
worth it to know I was not alone.
