frat!soap who was the one known to have fucked probably jolene herself would open the door like that to the frat house.
you're just there to pick up your friend who's a little too drunk to walk home by herself and this man is oppressive with his junk swinging and crop top.
you know him, everyone does. he's the pretty scot with the sea for eyes and a quirky mohawk cut. and he's caused a riff between your friends because he fucked them both.
oh you know him, this rat bastard. thing is, he doesn't know you. and that's what captures his interest.
"never seen ye before. ye new?"
idiot. "no, and you'll never see me again. excuse me." your fingertips digging into his shoulder as you push him aside, and quietly head upstairs.
"ach, tha's no way to enter a man's home, aye? at least a name, bonnie."
gross. not pet names. "what're you a cop?" whatever he might've answered with goes unheard because you're already beelining to your friends boyfriends room. (trying your best to not think of that meat cleaver that was in between his legs. who wears shit like that? freak.)
btw, he would wear tighty wighties, and he'd look spectacular in em cuz he's the type to use bleach on whites so they're like blinding whenever he's got them on. he takes good care of himself and his clothing.
Hey, I'm new to Chronivac and want to try out becoming a musky himbo jock. I'm not exactly sure how to do it well though, do you have any presets?
Dude, the catalog is full of premium matching presets. If you want, I'll just pick something. A little younger than you are now. A little more lower class than the Upper East Side where you currently live. And definitely no more Yale education. You bet your ass.
You're sitting on the sofa of your Park Avenue condo reading the New York Times. Damn uncomfortable. You put your feet up on the coffee table. You might as well clean up again…. On the table, a mess of pizza boxes, protein shake canisters, old issues of FLEX. Your mother calls from downstairs for you to go with the dog. Fuck, you were in the middle of a Call of Duty fight. Do you have to do that now? "ZAC! IMMEDIATELY" You know the tone. Better you don't lose another second. And an hour of running before the gym might not be a bad idea. So you put on your running shoes and head out with your dog.
When you're done with high school, you need to get out of the suburbs as soon as possible. Next year is the time. College, your own fitness channel on YouTube, a penthouse in New York. You already see your future right in front of you. But first your buddy has to take a shit in the park. When you've made your rounds, you still have an hour and a half before dinner. Enough for a short workout. You grab your bag, which hasn't been unpacked since the last work out, send your gym buddy a quick message, get on your bike and hit the road.
Your mustache is really coming nicely. And after the workout, as always, you'll have a mighty boner. Your buddy wasn't there. His bad luck. You send him your selfie. "Caption: "U missed a sicc workout and a big gulp of himbo proteins. Bj after dinner @ ur place"
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Hey, bro. Can you grow me into a BIG football playing bully? Like, I want the ground to shake when I walk. Big dumb bully jock.
Bruh, you are 42 years old and work as a department manager for a legal protection insurance company. Don't you think this request comes a little too late? But okay, anything you want. Is it okay if I start the transformation right away? I mean, there could be some unpleasant developments. Is this an important meeting you're sitting in right now?
It starts with you calling your boss "bruh" all the time. And that you're watching football games on YouTube on your phone while your colleagues are giving their presentations. When the meeting is over, your colleagues look at you reproachfully and leave the meeting room shaking their heads. Your boss just barks a "2:00 in my office" as you pass by.
Now it's 11:00. You scratch your sack and decide that it's not worth sitting down at your computer before the lunch break. So you head off to the gym. A little pumping and then a few chicken breasts for lunch. No one notices whether you're working or not anyway.
It's 2:30 p.m. when you show up at your boss's office all sweaty. You're still wearing your gym clothes. You met some of your old pals at the gym and forgot about the time. Fuck, your boss shoots the door down. He tells you that you are taking a lot of liberties for a young professional. But he would have been young once, too. And asks if he can give you a blowjob. Hehehe, what worked at university with the professors obviously still works on the job.
After work, you meet up with your pals from the gym at the sports bar. Watch football, eat a steak, drink beer. And maybe a little fuck in the bathroom. You're pretty drunk when you stumble out onto the street. On the way home you pass your old school. A place of great triumph. And a place of great defeats. If you think about it, of more defeats than triumphs. Fuck, it feels so good to empty your bladder filled to bursting at the teacher's entrance.
Fuck, how did you get into your bed. And why did you sleep in your gear? And why is your roommate in your bed. In his lacrosse gear. Anyway. Practice starts in an hour. And if you're late, you'll have to blow Coach again. So you better hurry up!