The Jehovah’s Witnesses

(Saturday Morning… I just got home from an exhausting night that began at the spa & salon & ended up in the Peninsula Hotel with some bimbos du jour and some random prince from Dubai… the door bell rings… my jaws are rigid, my lips are tight, BUT my coif is FLAWLESS.  I go to the door.)

HIM: Good morning sir, We’re Jehovah’s Witnesses and we would like to share some information with you.

ME:  Come on in. (He and I shake hands, I scratch his palm and say): Moo Moo Cowboy.

HIM  (Withdraws his hand quickly and looks around, regains his composure) You have a very nice home.

ME: (Looking at his crotch) You have a nice package… (He turns red, female looks nervous)

HER: Yes, you’re home is very lovely. What a beautiful piano. Do you play?

ME: Oh I LOVE to play. Just ask any guy in the neighborhood… but don’t ask him in front of his wife. (I wink at the guy)

HIM: Well we’ve taken up enough of your time. We could just leave these… and perhaps you could look at them later.

ME: OH NO! Don’t go! We’re just getting started. So now let’s talk about the crucifixion. I personally LOVE crucifixion and other asphyxaphillias. I got into S & M late in life… but immodestly perhaps, my dungeon is one of the most complete in the neighborhood.

HIM: We REALLY have to go.

HER: Yes, we REALLY do.

ME: But I was going to invite the neighbors over, so you could meet everybody on the block. We’re a real fun block.  The doctor on corner’s into blood sport… naturally he’s a surgeon. His lover, a garden-variety fetishist… BORING… into men’s dress socks.  Oh God he will LOVE your socks.  I’ll text him.

HIM: (Looking at his socks) NO!  NO seriously, we really have to go.

ME: Did I mention I was a doctor… my specialty is the brain… I don’t usually go below the neck… but when I do… (I look at his crotch and lick my lips).  (To the woman) And here’s something that might interest you.  The lesbian across the street—can lick an envelope after it’s in the mail box.

HER: Oh no… oh no, no, no.  I’m not that way.  I’m a Christian.

ME: So? You’re a Christian, she’s a Jew… TRUST ME… her tongue can bridge the gap.  Now the Asians next door—All into klismophilia husband, wife, son and daughter—I personally like a good enema… but they LOVE a good enema.  I think that’s why their plants are so green… they poor their used enema bags on the lawn—recycling is good though…

HER: (Shocked) We REALLY must leave… NOW.

ME: Oh honey, it’s Sunday, relax, it’s a day for Ice cream and a licking. Let me call Tongzilla for you.  Now the old guy that lives next to Tongzilla, into nasolingus… you know buggers.  I know kinda ewwww… But if a 80 year old man gets off eating buggers out of your nose… who am I to stop him.  I was taught to respect my elders… Isn’t that in the bible… must be somewhere.  EVERY thing’s in the bible.

HIM: Yes the bible is all inclusive, but we don’t have time to discuss it, because we have to leave…

ME: But I could save you so much trouble.  Most everybody on this block is in my orgy club.  I can get them here in a second.

HIM: That’s very gracious but not necessary, we are leaving.

ME: Oh but you would LOVE the Dom across the street–now she has better whips and mechanical torture devices than I do but her slave / husband, is an engineer… so she has advantages I don’t have… my husband is…

HER: Well we’ll just leave this and be getting on our way.

ME: (Blocking the door) But we haven’t talked about hell. See I think hell is a lot like Palm Springs… unbearable in the summer, but nice and toasty in the winter, and full of pretty people.

HIM: (Very nervous) You can read about hell in this literature, now we really must go. (He nervously extends his hand to shake… I grip it… and pull it towards me… and kiss the back of his hand…. He totally freaks out… runs out of the door, wiping the back of his hand on his cheap suit)

ME: (I yell) Bye bye fella…. Hey are you on Facebook? Friend me… It’s Billi (with an I) Gordon…  (thinking: THAT should keep the Jehovah’s Witnesses off our street for a few years)

Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

three + seventeen =