Brebelles's Own Private Oreo (Prof Chall)
Between being the #1 mark at the Irty Ex Viewing Mecca and my usual half a bottle of whisky down at Stinky Stovo’s Pub, I was a little bubbled. Luckily the phone range with a juice gig that paid a hefty vig.
Seems some John was sure that his wife had him on the hamstring and he needed her pinched in the sack with this wordsmith Romeo before they could break into divorce court.
Normally these kinda eps don’t shine my shoes but this shill sung the magic song. After all cabbage is king.
I stopped by Stinky’s after gettin my advance to get a little motivation, in the form of 6 boilermakers and a diet 7-up; Have to watch my figure. By the time i reached this Craig’s List lover-boy’s crummy crib, I was so tanked I didn’t need to hide I could just collapse outside the door.
I saw from my drunken pose, legs that would make the Pope deny 3 times.
That is when the lanky gigolo cracked the door and said,“Bre, you better have some cash if you wanna ride the Orange Oreo, cause tang is only worth sometin’ to astronauts.”