Day CLXVll

Da Sheit!

     Sometime later I ran into Josh, Marty’s bother.

    “Yo man, how’s ya bwa?”

    “Hey man, det mofo don’t gots no freaking luck, man.”

    “What happened now?”

     Well, it seems they used to hang out at a bar in Brooklyn. Marty, Josh, and a few other guys. Go go girls were a big thing, and so the guys used to go there for drinks, and to check out the dancers. From day one, the first day Marty walked into the place, he fell in love. Sometimes people don’t heed, or pay attention, and listen to good advice from their close pals.

    This one dancer had cute eyes, and an ample bosom.

     “Yo bwa, that girl ain’t no girl!”

     “Dude dem bazoooms be real, man,” he responded.

     “Ina deeze thangs, man, I jest na a ite.”

     “Na, na na!”

     “Marty it be a sheit, man.”

     “A what?”

     “A she, he it, dude…a sheit, man.”

     “He, hee hee, heeeee…no way man, no way.”

     A few days later, after she was finished dancing, he sat in a booth with her, and they enjoyed a few drinks together. Eventually they started switching spit, and fondling one another. When she went back to do her next set, one of the guys came over, and asked:

     “Yuuuuck, moda how kin ya doodit det shit, man”

      “Hey bwa, dem fun bags be fo real, man.”

      “Dude it’s a sheit, man.”

     Of course he didn’t listen, and when the place closed, he took her home. Immediately they got down to business, and as they laid in bed, Marty slid her undies off to find a bigger woody than his own.

     “Oh sheeeet, yuuuuuck, ahhhhh sheeeeet!”

     “Honey I thought you knew, I wasn’t leading you on!”

     He hurled all over her, the floor, and all the way out the door. He doesn’t remember how he got home, and when ever he saw any of the guys coming up the street, he crossed to the other side.