APOCALYPTIC LOYALTIES

With the December 2012 apocalypse looming, I have been doing a lot of thinking about my loyalties.  Let’s assume that when the aliens land on Earth their plan is to eliminate the scourge of human insects that have infested their planet all these thousands of years.  The dilemma I have is who would my loyalties be to?  Do I stick it out with my guns and defend against the overwhelming alien force with the last remaining survivors of the planet?  Do I go out in a blaze of glory to demonstrate to the aliens that although they have us beat when it comes to fire power we, as humans, have heart and courage?  Am I standing there side by side with the ragged last rebel  group firing round after round with reckless abandon only to cease my assault when the aliens' energy weapons vaporize the liquid in my body turning me to dust?...... FUCK NO!  I have zero loyalty to the human race AT ALL!  Human’s are shit heads; fuck um!  The VERY first thing I would do is pledge my allegiance to the first alien I saw and to prove it, as I’m sure they’d want a demonstration of my loyalty, by curb stomping the first person I saw.  Then the aliens, impressed by my turncoat mentality, would hand me one of their energy weapons to assist in the decimation of the humans.  The next phase of the alien occupation campaign would be to round up the useful humans such as those that are built well for labor and as breeding vessels.  With the elimination phase over, the human race dropped to its knees, and the occupation phase commencing I would then, having proved my loyalty, surrender myself as a breeding vessel.  The reason I would surrender myself is because with my proven reliability and willingness to aid the alien cause I would not just be a standard breeding vessel but would be one of the upper echelon breeding vessels.  Now I know what you’re thinking…”But Rusty, how can you be a breeding vessel? You aren’t female”?  I would then shatter your preconceived notions of alien breeding practices.  As I’m sure you would know had you been watching the show “Ancient Aliens” on the History Channel, the aliens’ physiology and means of reproducing is incompatible with the human female reproductive tract.  Only human males can become breeding vessels.  The human male anus and the human male urethra are the only suitable body cavities for alien fetal growth.  So I would have my anus implanted with upwards of 60 alien fetal pods and my urethra with up to 12.  The great thing is that all I have to do is sit in a comfortable breeding room in the alien home planet’s maternal facility.  Now granted with that many butt babies and cabies (pronounced KAY-BEEZ, which is short for cock babies) growing in me I would look like a bloated termite queen but I get all the mochtar (alien version of Chinese dumplings), Lookra(a delicious spiny fruit on their planet), and Globpus (A fat gelatinous worm that takes some getting used to but with some paprika and lime tastes like a cross between a deviled egg and a Del Taco fish taco, both of which I love) that I can eat.  The only downside is giving birth but once you get used to it and your orifices get more flexible the pods just basically fall out.  My dick would look like a dead elephant’s trunk that some kid set off a pipe bomb in the end of it but, hey, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  So get ready cause those aliens are coming.  You need to decide whose side you’ll be on cause I already know where my loyalties lie.     

PNEUMATIC EROTICA pt. 2

I’ve got something I gotta get off my chest.  I pussed out.  I did.  I had this grand plan of getting surgery to remove my genitals and install a motor controller box for a pneumatic penis assembly, but I chickened out. My whole plan, as I had outlined in (Pneumatic Erotica pt.1 28JUL2011), was to cryogenically preserve my genitalia in a jar for future use.  I didn’t want my penis and balls to lose their virility due to old age.  So, I figured that around the age of 102 years old I’d have them thawed out and reattached so that I could continue impregnating 20 year old college students for years to come.  The pneumatic assembly that would be installed into my groin, in the meantime, would suffice until that time came and still allow me to be fully functional and possibly even ENHANCED in the bedroom.  As the assembly had a quick-disconnect fitting, which was the only thing protruding out of the skin, I could attach any number of devices to it.  Attachments that act like a jack hammer where I wouldn’t even have to move and neither would she; another that satisfies every possible orifice of her body all at once; and yet another that would comb her hair and braid it while violating her anus; and yet another still that would give me a massage, and her a massage, and the other girl who joined in a massage, while punching a dude in his mouth, while jacking off a parrot.  Hell, if I wanted to I could hook up a pneumatic hose from my nub to my nail gun for roofing or my impact wrench for taking my car tires off.  Those are the kinds of bad ass attachments that the pneumatic assembly would have been capable of accommodating.  Like I said, though, I pussed out.  I couldn’t go through with it.  

 The funny thing is my brother Dusty, as you all read a little bit about in (HOT ROMANIAN TWINS 16AUG2011) kind of got the short end of the stick in life, if you know what I mean.  He’s somewhat inadequate.  My brother, however, unlike me, apparently isn’t a pussy.  This last weekend, I found out, he actually went and got the surgery.  He’s recovering right now in the hospital and in good health.  They are currently running diagnostics on his equipment such as speed checks, voltage tolerances, pneumatic line pressure checks, etc.  Now… he DID get the surgery, but I ALSO found out that it wasn’t exactly voluntary.  You see, my brother Dusty is, and always has been, an apotemnophiliac (someone who gets pleasure from self amputation or fulfillment from having limbs or body parts amputated).  He was just a toes guy at first, but having gotten down to only his big toe on his left foot in less than a week, I told him he might want to keep that one for balance at least, if anything, and slow down a little.  He would use a hammer and chisel to take his toes down digit by digit, and got off on it, but it never seemed to be enough for him.  Now, from what I’ve gathered, he got impatient just amputating his toes and decided to just go straight for the brass ring.  He took a hack saw to his dick and a sledge hammer to his balls.  Next thing he remembers is waking up in the hospital with nothing but a metal nub sticking out where his dick was and the Platinum Pussy Puncturer model of Pneumatic assemblies, the best on the market, installed.  He can thank his wife for that; she found him on the bed all fucked up and unconscious and called the ambulance.  They replaced what was beef jerky instead of gonads and now he’s a new man.  He couldn’t be happier.  He is also cured, apparently, of his amputation fetish.  I guess smashing your balls to paste and cutting your dick off will do that to a man.  Fuck Zoloft right?