When I was a little boy I got a Nativity soap set as a gift for Christmas. The set included a cute little baby Jesus, a noble-looking Joseph, even a pretty good version of the Virgin Mary. Of course I threw the stupid thing into a drawer and forgot about it for a few years. I mean, who the hell appreciates a gift like that? It was not until I was beginning puberty that I decided that washing my ass with the baby Jesus would be a cool thing to do.
While in the bath tub, I thought it was kind of fun to make the Nativity cast have sex with each other. Joseph with a camel. Jesus with a donkey. Joseph with Jesus. All that thinking of sex got me pretty worked up. Pretty much anything got me worked up in those days, and jerking off was still a new adventure. I had been experimenting with different ways to make myself happy, and the Virgin Mary did have a smoking little body. I gave it to Mary good, that tight little whore, and when I was finished she was not a virgin no more.
As proof that there is a God, and that he is vengeful, I now find myself working overnights stocking the shelves at Wal-Mart. Did you know that they make you watch a video on appropriate humor at Wal-Mart? It is not just the sexual jokes they hate, (Knock knock! Who's there? Balls! Balls who? These two balls want you to suck them all night!) but political (Say "George Bush" five times fast, and you can slur just like him on a bender) and race (God, I hate chinks!) jokes as well.
Here is a good joke at Wal-Mart, told to me by a toothy redneck during my computer-based training: A cowboy walks into a smithy. The smithy has just set some horseshoes out to cool; they are fresh from the fire. The cowboy picks up the horseshoes, and immediately drops them. The smithy says, "Pretty hot, huh?" The cowboy replies, "Nah! It just don't take me long to look at horseshoes!" Wal-Mart allows you to laugh now. Thank you very much. It is into this hell that I have now fallen.
I, of course, get the plum assignment of stocking the toy department. Cleaning up after God knows how many over-privileged redneck brats may well be the low point of my working life. This is coming from a man who once chased a giant turd around the floor of his boss's private bathroom after clogging up the toilet and making it overflow. The whole thing bites ass. It is with no small amount of resentment that I put merchandise on the shelf. Often I pray that some affliction will be given to the little shithead that gets a toy. I will be putting a Matchbox car on the shelf, and pray that little Timmy Dicklicker gets cancer, or has his balls torn off by a rabid monkey. Just little things like that to make me happy and keep a grin on my face. If anyone ever asks me why I am so amused, I will tell them the cowboy joke.
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The Water Worm
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After a few days of working with the toys, I began to notice something about the toys that kids have these days. They all have some sort of sexual undertone, unlike the very vestal Mary that I forcibly loved so long and hard. These toys want it, and they want it bad. Take for instance the Water Worm. Just the word worm should tip you off that there is something freaky going on. I have a worm. It shoots water. And just like my worm, you have to yank down on the Water Worm (shaped just like an uncircumcised penis) to get it to spurt a stream of water. If I had one I would fill it with milk and shoot it at girls that have their goddamned pants so low that I have to pretend not to see their thong or the top edge of their pussy. Water worm = Jerking off. It is disgusting. I pointed out the penile resemblance to a coworker, she replied, "God, I wish."
Another toy that bugs me is Hug Me Pooh. Not only is the name a sort of scatological pun, but the box has a little girl hugging the vibrating Pooh Bear to her crotch. There is a hole in the box with a big arrow pointing to it. "Try me," the arrow says. You put your finger in the box at just the right spot to touch Pooh's 'tween. Sometimes I wonder if I could fit my penis in the hole. It is pretty easy to get lonely working overnights. And Pooh does have a certain come-hither stare.
A toy that amuses me, but is not really sexy (unless you are one of those Japs that really like the dookie) is the MASSIVE DUMP by Tonka. It is nothing more than a large yellow metal dump truck. The box says you can take your MASSIVE DUMP anywhere. Impress people with your MASSIVE DUMP. If only they could have seen the size of the turd I had to chase around that office. Then they would have understood the term MASSIVE DUMP.
Then there is the jelly filled rubber tube. You squeeze, it slips through your hands. Squeeze it harder, it slips faster. Fill it with Vaseline and stick your cock in it, well, it slips even faster. I really like this toy. All the fun of butt sex without all the nasty butts, or my wife yelling "Get your cock out of my ass, Get it OWWWT, wah, wah, wah!"
The worst toys of all are the Bratz line of dolls. These are a line of dolls that are designed with one idea in mind, teaching little girls to dress and wear their make up like complete whores. I have no problem with WOMEN being whores. As I noted earlier, butt sex is fun, but most women I have had butt sex with -- my wife, the Virgin Mary -- are pretty sexually moderate. Only a really well-used whore, or a Catholic girl, really enjoys having something jammed in their poop chute. What I do have a problem with are LITTLE GIRLS being taught that slutty is cool at such a young age. I am honest enough to admit I am not really concerned for the sake of the future sluts’ morality, so much as I am jealous of little Timmy Dicklicker. He is going to get all the fine poon through nothing more than conditioned response at age sixteen. I had to turn twenty and fork over tickets to Milli Vanilli and well over a case of Milwaukee's Best beer. It just ain’t fair.
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A whore doll.
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Speaking of drinking (on a side note, I just fed my dog a scab I picked off while trying to figure out how to transition to this paragraph, he enjoyed it.) the Bratz have a summer Tikki Bar. I am horrified by this because I once had a run in with a Tikki that really left me hating them, and because no child should be playing "let’s go to the bar." Sluts are fine, drunk sluts are even finer, but underage drunk sluts can land a fellow in prison. Always remember: just because the girl is drunk does not make her the legal age to fuck. It does not stand up in court. Trust me on this one. The bar looks really fun. Sand, a well-stocked bar, sexy girls everywhere. Again, it ain't fair. Every Tikki bar I have been to has had a few dudes that looked like someone had dipped the Skipper in shit and then turned Gilligan into a very unsavory Negro fellow. I want in on the sexy girl action. Please.
There are special edition Bratz "Sun Kissed Summer" dolls that come equipped for summer fun at the Tikki bar. They are all in ass high skirts, platform sandals, and tiny bikinis. They come with a trading card that changes its image when you tilt it in the light. One way, the cartoonish eyes defy you while the skirt rides up a curvy ass. The other way and those eyes are looking over the poor creatures shoulder as she is down on all fours (like she is ready to wrestle) showing off her very tight bikini. I stood playing with that goddamned card for the better part of twenty minutes. Sexy, tilt, sexier. I showed Jelly-Filled Tube who was boss later that night.
I tried to keep my children away for these toys. I may have no problem with someone else having a slut for a daughter, but it ain't gonna happen in my house... Unless some smart-ass kid decides to give one of those slutty toys to my nine-year-old daughter for her birthday. Sure enough, some future slut did just that. Of course I confiscated the doll. My daughter did not really care, she only cried a little. It was while I was inspecting the doll later that night that I discovered the feet come completely off! I have a sex thing about feet, they disgust me. I also have a sex thing about amputees, they make me horny. No feet and a smokin' body? There is a God. And I have a new doll.
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