Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Archive for the tag “blow jobs”

The Fat Bottom Bard

Recently I decided to shake some shit up. No, not a martini. My blogging. But now I’m really thirsty for some reason.

I was getting very frustrated about my blogging stats. I’m not a stat whore or anything, but my views have really dropped. Like dropped down to where they were when I first started blogging. Like low. Like practically non-existent.

So I talked to My Man about it. My Man is a blogger too, has some pretty impressive stats, and I’m not just talking about in his pants. Seriously, he’s working on being uber famous and some day we’re going to have a beach house and a maid and a huge bathtub because of it.

The conversation went a little something like this:

FBG: My stats suck. Like not suck in a good way (blow job reference), but in a bad way.

MM: Sweet Cheeks, don’t take this the wrong way, but honestly, your blog is a clusterfuck. You’ve got shit about blow jobs and sex toys and funny shit mixed in with sappy shit. I think it just confuses the shit out of people.

FBG: But Stud Muffin, I’m confusing as shit. It’s an accurate representation of me.

MM: That’s for damn sure my Cock Sucking Angel, but unlike me, most people don’t want their minds blown by your eclecticness on a regular basis. Your funny shit is funny, and your sappy shit is good, but it just doesn’t work all in one place.

FBG: My Amazing Meat Pony, I think you’re right. I hate to admit it, because you’re right about a lot of things, but I really think you’re right about my clusterfuck blog.

Okay, so maybe the conversation didn’t go EXACTLY like that, but you get the drift right?

The result of that, after some contemplation and heel dragging, is The Fat Bottom Bard. No longer shall my Fat Bottom Girl followers have to suffer from me waxing poetic when they only come here looking for a good dick story!

And no longer will those who might enjoy only my poetry and prose have to suffer my filthy sailor mouth. Well shit, no promises on that actually, because I know some of my poetry will have a lot of fucking cussing in it.

Either way, follow one, follow both, follow none. I must follow my muse wherever he takes me, and usually it’s straight into the dregs of hell, so buckle up boys and girls, it’s always a bumpy ride when a Fat Bottom Girl is driving.

My Baby Plays a Mean Meat Whistle

The "B" is silent.

The “B” is silent.

Bacon. Sex. Bacon. Sex. It’s kind of a toss-up. Seriously. That’s how much I love bacon. So I just came right out and asked him. “Would it bother you if I were to eat bacon while we were having sex?”

Now you might not be quite as enamored of the swine and bovine as I am, so that question might shock you. But to my warped mind, eating a pork product, or any other tasty meat treat while having sex makes perfect sense, and here are the reasons why:

1. In my neck of the woods, sex is sometimes referred to as “porkin'”. Example: “I was porkin’ this chick the other night. . .”

2. How many times have you heard of a man’s equipment being referred to in “meat” vernacular? For example:

Men can “beat their meat”, or “slap their salami”.
They can slip a woman the “hot beef injection”.
Hey baby, wanna ride the “bologney pony”?
Your wife or girlfriend’s favorite dinner? “Tube steak!”
“Pork sword”
“Weiner”. (Not to be confused with Anthony, whose weiner everyone has seen thanks to the internet.)

3. Let’s not forget that an erection is oft referred to as a “boner”. Meat often comes with bones in it. And as AC/DC says, I’m pretty sure “just givin’ the dog a bone” refers to putting your man meat in a chick’s mouth, but I could be wrong.

4. There’s also musical meat. Example: “Hey honey, why don’t you come over here and play a tune on my “meat whistle”. If you don’t know all the notes, you can just hum.”

4. Last but not least, meat terms you never want to be associated with your penis: vienna sausage, little smokie. When it comes to meat, the serving size does matter. Don’t let her bullshit you.

So you see, it all makes perfect sense now, doesn’t it?

Oh, and just in case you were interested? He told me it wouldn’t bother him a bit, just don’t forget to melt some cheese on it and dip it in mayo. I’m thinking he might be a keeper.

Honey Do (it for a blowjob?) List

Most of the time I don’t mind mowing, but last night was an exception. Due to unusually high amounts of rainfall here in “Oz”, the grass is growing at an alarming rate. Add to the rate of growth the fact that it’s near impossible to get it mowed between rain showers, and the fact the humidity is hovering around 85%, and you’ve got a virtual perfect recipe for knee-high vegetation and mosquitoes the size of a small child. All of these factors led to me wondering what it would take to get a man to mow my lawn; actually, to get a man to do numerous chores around my house. The answer? Blowjobs!! Seriously, I can’t be the first woman who has thought of this, right?? What is one thing a man always seems to want, but can never get enough of?? Besides beer! Yep, blowjobs. BJ’s. Oral copulation. Wouldn’t that be a fair trade?? He mows the lawn – blowjob. He fixes the roof – blowjob. He lifts heavy shit and kills bugs – blowjob. I think this is a perfect solution, and there must be a man out there who would be willing to enter into this sort of arrangement with me. Maybe I will just need to place an ad in the paper.

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