It Lives!

Hey there buddies.  You all still there?  All like, three of you?  I’d forgive you if you’re off getting drunk at some other sexy blog stud’s place, after all I’ve been a slacker lately of epic proportions and I can only apologize for neglecting you.

Know what else has epic proportions?  My cock!  Drumcrash.

No really ladies.  My cock is colossal.

Talking of… sorry to the lady who sent me the rather vocal email about my last post regarding my cock and some lady’s ass-crack.  Seems that was a little blue below the belt.  The Bible Belt that is.  Oh fuck it, no I’m not sorry.   Even Jesus laughed at that line.

I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to shit lately.  The past month or so has been crazy town around these parts.  I’ve played more shows in the past three weeks than I have in the past six months.  Some of those shows were in Memphis, Louisville, Little Rock and Corpus Christie.  Corpus was a badass town.  Pretty to look at, ocean right there and lots of sexy senoritas pouting all over the place.  You can’t get better than that.  Except maybe a blowjob from Adriana Lima.  Maybe.

Pedro accompanied me on all dates, that’s the musical sort not the romantic sort, I’m not a sick fucker or anything.  Although I’m sure he’d enjoy watching.  That voyeuristic little Mexican fuck.  Me, I haven’t even spent time with many ladies the past few weeks I’ve been working so hard.  The Captain’s cried real tears of sorrow over this.  Okay, he’s cried real tears of sperm.  I mean the Nivea pot’s almost empty.   Fuck me, I need to get laid by a real pussy soon.

And by “real pussy” I’m not talking about that dude with the fake face that used to be in Poison.

One lady I did dally with was in Louisville.  Her name was Stella and she was a waitress at a burger joint.  Maybe 35, plump in all the right places, ass like a hippopotamus.  Tony likes asses like hippos.  More cushion for the pushin’ and all that cliched shit.  Stella was a good ole country gal with rosy cheeks, on both ends after I’d done with her.  She enjoyed a bit of the old paddling.  I’m not much one for bondage but hell, if a lady wants her ass scorched I can oblige, know what I’m saying?  If it’s ass related it’s for me.

I also had an “incident” in Memphis with a tourist lady who’d come to town to see Graceland.  She kept yelling out “Do Elvis! Do Elvis!” prompting a colorful remark from me about necrophilia.  Hell, I thought it was hilarious.  Her, not so much.  She launched a highball glass at me like she was pitching a fuckin’ fastball.  I had to get stitches and everything. Elvis has some ferocious fans.  You can probably slander their mothers but don’t talk about fucking Elvis’s cold, dead body unless you want a trip to the ER.

Anyway, this is getting lengthy (that’s what HE said) so I’ll leave it there.  Hope y’all are doing well.  I’m gonna start doing more commenting, I’m a lame fucking blog friend for sure.

Peace out guys.

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3 Responses to It Lives!

  1. Man, you’d think Elvis’s fans would have a sense of humour, given that their hero died on the toilet wearing a big nappy.

  2. Tony Spunk says:

    Ya know you’re entirely correct Imaginary. Those fucks got no right to be complaining at all. Next time I’ll be sure to mention the toilet thing. What the hay’s a nappy? Google is telling me it’s a diaper. Yowza!

  3. Cynnie says:

    guy at work told me yesterday..

    yanno i could split you in half with my giant cock ..

    really ?
    sweet talker ..
    ugh

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