I woke up this morning with a bad hangover and my coochie was missing again. This happens all the time: it's detachable. This comes in handy a lot of the time: I can leave it home when I think it's going to get me in trouble, or I can rent it out when I don't need it. But now and then I go to a party, get drunk, and the next morning I can't for the life of me remember what I did with it.
First I looked around my apartment and I couldn't find it so I called up the place where the party was. They hadn't seen it either. I asked them to check the medicine cabinet (because for some reason I leave it there sometimes) but not this time. So I told them if it pops up to let me know. I called some other people from the party but they were no help either.
I was starting to get desperate. I really don't like being without my coochie for too long. It makes me feel like less of a man, and I really hate having to sit down every time I take a leak.
After a few hours of searching the house and calling everyone I could think of, I was starting to get very depressed. So I went to the Kiev and ate breakfast. Then as I walked down Second Avenue towards St. Mark's place where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street, I saw my coochie lying on a blanket next to a broken toaster oven. Some guy was selling it. He wanted 22 bucks, but I talked him down to 17. I took it home, washed it off, and put it back on.
I was happy again. Complete. People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached, but, I don't know. Even though it's sometimes a winky in the ass, I like having a detachable coochie.
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Copy to Clipboard: I woke up this morning with a bad hangover and my coochie was missing again. This happens all the time: it's detachable. This comes in handy a lot of the time: I can leave it home when I think it's going to get me in trouble, or I can rent it out when I don't need it. But now and then I go to a party, get drunk, and the next morning I can't for the life of me remember what I did with it.
First I looked around my apartment and I couldn't find it so I called up the place where the party was. They hadn't seen it either. I asked them to check the medicine cabinet (because for some reason I leave it there sometimes) but not this time. So I told them if it pops up to let me know. I called some other people from the party but they were no help either.
I was starting to get desperate. I really don't like being without my coochie for too long. It makes me feel like less of a man, and I really hate having to sit down every time I take a leak.
After a few hours of searching the house and calling everyone I could think of, I was starting to get very depressed. So I went to the Kiev and ate breakfast. Then as I walked down Second Avenue towards St. Mark's place where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street, I saw my coochie lying on a blanket next to a broken toaster oven. Some guy was selling it. He wanted 22 bucks, but I talked him down to 17. I took it home, washed it off, and put it back on.
I was happy again. Complete. People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached, but, I don't know. Even though it's sometimes a winky in the ass, I like having a detachable coochie.
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