Thursday, April 11, 2013

Reggie Thinks I'm Gay

Reggie was limping/hobbling around rather strangely/suggestively.

"Load in your pants?"

"No, no." Reggie came closer to my desk. He lowered his voice to Barry White levels. "My ball got nicked."

I stared. Finally, I said, "What?"

"My wife... Damnit, I mean, my girlfriend was shaving the hair under my balls. The hair under there carries the most dirt, did you know that? Anyway, my girlfriend was lifting my sack like so..." Reggie cupped his air balls. "And then the bitch sneezed! I was about made a girl right then and there!"

I said nothing.

Reggie looked at me. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw your painting, the one where you marry yourself. You're gay, aren't you?"

"Yes, Reggie. I am gay. Very gay. So gay that I want to have a threeway with myself. That's how gay."

"I knew it! I've seen cruising guys up here, sitting at this desk. So tell me. Be serious. Are you a top or a bottom?"

"More of a medium."

Reggie made a face. "But doesn't it hurt?"

"Well, they call it difficult brown for a reason."

"They call what 'difficult brown'?"

"You, my friend. You."

*sad glockenspiel*

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