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My name is Mom, which means ‘chastity belt’ in Swahili….and don’t you forget it!

Jett Superior laid this on you on || August 17, 2005 || 9:47 pm

My name is Mom, which means ‘chastity belt’ in Swahili….and don’t you forget it!

Dear Horny Little Toadboy,

You are NOT getting your paws on my fifteen-year-old’s boobies, so you may as well give up now. I am about half a click shy of wrapping my hands around your acne’d little neck and squeezing until your testicles pop off.

I’m telling you, for the good of all involved, you best crawl on back to that little whoring piece of Easy Street that you were feeling up a couple of months ago. She misses you, and the road you’re attempting to travel now is gonna get someone maimed.

Two guesses as to who.

I mean it, you overgrown and oversexed five-year-old in a Junior High bod,

Jett “If You Think I’M Bad, Just Piss Off Her Daddy One Good Time” Superior

7 worked it out »

  1. CNL 8.18.2005

    you knoooowwwww…. Husband tells step-daughter’s new boyfriends call him “Captain Mac”, and tells them all about his 10+ years in the Marine Corps as a sniper… which is all true except the sniper part. Seems to do the trick – she has a lot of “first dates”, not too many seconds. Maybe you want to try something like that?

     
  2. Semi-retired Horndog 8.18.2005

    The grabby mitt grabs; and, having grabbed, moves on: nor all your rage nor vigilance shall block the gropage, nor all your yelling scare away one itchy finger.

     
  3. FNA 8.18.2005

    Just to bring a little levity into this little piece of private angst. Remember when D.R. told you about ur sisters, um, ample assets?

    and I am quoting here, ” Ur sister has great tits, (said with great fear of the right cross) BUT I wouldn’t suck ‘em!”

    Oh, those were the days!

    On a more personal experience note, I had a father take me through the house, showing me every gun, even with a broken ankle, hobbling on crutches.

    Also, there was a very bright and beautiful woman who gave me a very practiced and wisdom-filled schpiel about the location of my hands and where they shouldn’t be in relation to her daughter’s body. I wish I could member that daughter’s name………rhymed with pet, I think….

     
  4. Jettomatika 8.18.2005

    Bob,

    Leave my momma out of this. The recollection of her deft handling of the young menfolk shames me and makes me feel inadequate by comparison.

    Brilliant she was indeed.

     
  5. The Dane 8.18.2005

    Jest pretend he’s a tractor, eh?

     
  6. del 8.18.2005

    you know it’s hard to beat john candy’s (in the movie uncle buck) discussion with “bug” about his hatchet; however I know a gentleman that came to the door to meet his daughter’s date cover in blood grasping a butchers knife. he was in the process of butchering an elk but didn’t bother to detail his exact activity, simply answered the door, stated when he expected his daughter back and faded back into the kitchen and worked on the large bones so the waiting lad could hear the popping and cracking of the critters bones….she was returned home early without so much as a good night peck on the cheek.

     
  7. MerryMadMonk 8.18.2005

    I was on my best choirboy behavior around moms like you

    … and away from them? I worked very earnestly to get in their daughters’ panties. I mean I didn’t try to wear them … well, maybe that one time I did, but that was just a lark.

    But this does remind me of one of Bill Engvall’s routines about him not wanting his 15 year old daughter to shave her legs. He wanted her to have monkey hair legs, the kind where the hair sticks thru her socks. “When a boy looks at my little girl’s legs, I want his first word to be ‘Day-um!’”

     

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