The Tempest Online™

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Because It’s Become A Holiday Tradition

Posted by Daniel on December 23, 2009

WARNING: The following tale is not suitable for people under the age of 18. It is highly recommended that if you are easily offended by gay imagery or stereotyped wordage, you click away from this story immediately. We don’t want to offend ANYONE, but don’t want to be told off for using our artistic license.


She’s A Mean One!!!

Every gay up in Fresno liked Christmas a lot, but the Bitch,

who seldom stepped foot in the area, most certainly did not.

The Bitch hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season!

Now, please don’t ask why…no one quite knows the reason.

It could be her wig wasn’t pinned on just right.

Or, perhaps it was that her cheap Payless pumps were too tight.

But I think that the most likely reason of all

May have been that her pee-pee was 2 inches too small.

But whatever the reason, she stood there they said

Hating each faggot and every last lez.

Staring down from the stage, glitter dusted and gorgeous,

Her face looking flawless, her tits quite enormous.

For she knew every Fresno gay, so tanned and so buff

Was now primping and tweezing and bleaching and stuff.

“And they’re waxing their back hair!” she snarled with a sneer.

“Tomorrow is Christmas! It’s practically here!”

Then she hissed, and just stood there looking quite stunning,

“I must find some way to stop Christmas from coming!”

For tomorrow the sodomites and carpet munchers

Will roll out of bed around 9:00 for their brunches.

They will walk hand in hand all over the place

Throwing their sick lifestyles in her gorgeous face.

And then they’d do something she liked least of all…

Every Fresno gay with their shaved low-hanging balls

In their way-too-tight t-shirts and their metal cock rings

Every drunk little faggot actually sings.

They sing Nicki,  Rihanna and Christina…its scary

Young ones sing Carly and Katy Perry

Brittany, Lady Ga-Ga, so many choices

Warbled out in effeminate, weak little voices.

And the more the Bitch thought of those fags trying to sing,

The more the Bitch thought, “I must stop this thing!”

“Why for 40…23 years I’ve put up with it now!

I must stop this Christmas from coming…but how?”

Then she got an idea, an awful idea!

The Bitch got a wonderfully awful idea!

Their apartments were empty, no one was at home

Disowned by their families, they despise being alone.

To the gay bars they march to spend all their money

Fools who think Smirnoff is good and Ellen is funny.

The Bitch tried the door but it was locked tight.

Thank goodness she watched CHARLIE’S ANGELS last night.

From her sassy new do she removed a hairpin

And picking the lock, she let herself in.

The place was atrocious, a postmodern bad dream

Filled with crap from Ikea, Pier 1 and Linen’s & Things.

With sad touches of retro: a new lava lamp

And a chrome vintage toaster, in short it was camp.

She slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant

Around the whole room and she took every present!!

Hair products, work-out gear, bronzer and more.

Skimpy little slut shorts and tank tops galore.

Male grooming products,the latest iPhone

Calvin Klein underwear and his stinky cologne.

An expensive l’Gea hair removal system

And so many drugs I can barely list them.

Acid and Crystal, Crank, Crack and Ice

Two 8balls of coke when one would suffice.

Poppers and Special K, plenty of X

And their stockings stuffed full of perverted gay sex.

Magazines, dirty books, all sorts of porn

Filthy smut movies by Kristen Bjorn.

Spunk personal lubricant, dildos this long,

Tit clamps and assless chaps, a two-headed dong.

Butt plugs and anal beads, soon to be shoved

“Have pity on them, they just want to be loved!”

The Bitch laughed to herself as she filled up her bags

Taking everything dear to the tired Fresno fags.

Once full, she twist-tied them and gave them the boot

And sent all the presents right down the trash shoot.

Then she slunk to the fridge, she ate the gay’s food!

She guzzled and gobbled and chowed down quite rude.

She ate wilted arugula, baked Brie and pate

Free range turkey, garlic-stuffed olives and crème Brule.

Basmati rice with Maui onions and sun-dried tomatoes

Rustic tex-mex, sage-infused roasted new potatoes.

Chilean sea bass and pumpkin ravioli

The Bitch washed it down with a bottle of Stoli.

Then the Bitch went postal on the fag’s Christmas tree

Tearing it limb from limb, as wild as she could be.

Lights popped as she karate-chopped, spinning like a twister,

Till the tree looked like it had been decorated by

Martha Stewart’s retarded sister.

The Bitch then smashed the gays’ most prized possession:

A pink triangle ornament…and then she smelled Obsession.

She turned around fast and saw a sleepy Gay

Little Sasha Jay Gay, who was 19 if he was a day.

The Bitch had been caught by this underage stud

Who could not go to bars yet and he resembled Paul Rudd

Paul Rudd was in “Clueless” and “Object of My Affection”

He always gave the Bitch a tiny little erection.

He stared at the Bitch and said, “Oh God, Savanah, why?”

“By the way, I’m half-blind, hung like a horse and bi.”

The Bitch started sweating, she needed to think

Then she smiled at the boy and gave him a wink.

“Your friends felt so bad that you couldn’t have fun

That they bought you a hooker, and I am the one!”

“Your Christmas present is me, you see

I’ve been hired to satisfy you, sexually.”

The Bitch thought the boy would run away

After all, this is Fresno, where no one’s supposed to be gay.

But not only did Sasha not disappear,

He was drooling and smiling from ear to cute ear.

“He really IS bi”, the Bitch thought in her head

“C’mon whore!” said Sasha, “Lets go to bed.”

“Ive a better idea, you lock the door

And lets do it all night right here on the floor.”

The boy wasn’t waxed, or bleached or tan

And he fucked like only a nineteen year old can.

They did it three times and then did it once more

And the Bitch really felt like a hot little whore.

And what happened next? Well in Fresno they say

That the Bitches small penis grew five inches that day.

No longer a drag queen and quite into ALL men,

The Bitch now frequents ALL the bars…including The Legends.

The End


One Response to “Because It’s Become A Holiday Tradition”

  1. Brian said

    I read this while sitting in my Karsten chair at my Flarke desk.

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