Give me the first sentence.
|by Anonymous||reply 164||April 13, 2019 1:18 PM|
Call me Irritable.
|by Anonymous||reply 1||April 5, 2019 3:15 AM|
The night is dark and full of terrors.
|by Anonymous||reply 2||April 5, 2019 3:17 AM|
It was a dark and musky hole...
|by Anonymous||reply 3||April 5, 2019 3:17 AM|
Call me Cuntmael.
|by Anonymous||reply 4||April 5, 2019 3:19 AM|
Cheryl hesitated in the drugstore aisle, wondering where they might keep something called 'feminine hygiene spray.'
|by Anonymous||reply 5||April 5, 2019 3:20 AM|
“All happy gays are alike; each unhappy gay is unhappy in his own way; thus, DataLounge was born.”
|by Anonymous||reply 6||April 5, 2019 3:21 AM|
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single gay man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a fabulous caftan."
|by Anonymous||reply 7||April 5, 2019 3:22 AM|
As Lens Dunham awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, she found herself transformed in her bed into a gigantic blobfish-like creature.
|by Anonymous||reply 8||April 5, 2019 3:22 AM|
"Cheryl, light of my life, fire of my nostrils."
|by Anonymous||reply 9||April 5, 2019 3:22 AM|
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is verification of my size meat, and what 1960s and 1970s sitcoms I watched in my lousy childhood, and how I spewed my secret treasure in my sister's Ken doll after I kissed and licked him, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."
|by Anonymous||reply 10||April 5, 2019 3:25 AM|
It was the best of times, it was the blurst of times...
|by Anonymous||reply 11||April 5, 2019 3:26 AM|
Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the Red Dragon cheese herself.
|by Anonymous||reply 12||April 5, 2019 3:29 AM|
"You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of My Way of Life; but that ain't no matter."
|by Anonymous||reply 13||April 5, 2019 3:30 AM|
I dreamt I went to the Manderlay gloryhole last night.
|by Anonymous||reply 14||April 5, 2019 3:34 AM|
I'm telling you NOW, so I don't have to tell you THEN!
|by Anonymous||reply 15||April 5, 2019 3:36 AM|
Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
|by Anonymous||reply 16||April 5, 2019 3:37 AM|
Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized that when she presented hole.
|by Anonymous||reply 17||April 5, 2019 3:39 AM|
He was an old man who cruised alone in a park near the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a load.
|by Anonymous||reply 18||April 5, 2019 3:39 AM|
|by Anonymous||reply 19||April 5, 2019 3:40 AM|
Enter pursued by a bear.
|by Anonymous||reply 20||April 5, 2019 3:41 AM|
I have never begun a topic thread with more misgiving.
|by Anonymous||reply 21||April 5, 2019 3:44 AM|
I was given something to cry about.
|by Anonymous||reply 22||April 5, 2019 3:45 AM|
|by Anonymous||reply 23||April 5, 2019 3:45 AM|
It’s was the horniest of times; it was the loneliest of times.
|by Anonymous||reply 24||April 5, 2019 3:45 AM|
Tasteful friends . . .
|by Anonymous||reply 25||April 5, 2019 3:47 AM|
DataLounge is like a homosexual male. Ripe, hotly passionate but fickle….
|by Anonymous||reply 26||April 5, 2019 3:48 AM|
riverrun, past Steves and Adams, from perv and whore to bend of back, brings us by a commodius dickus of recirculation back to Wrigleyville Cumdump and Environs.
|by Anonymous||reply 27||April 5, 2019 3:50 AM|
To begin my life at the beginning of my life, I report that I was born (35 years later than indicated on my driver’s license, which is a clerical error I’ve been meaning to get sorted.)
|by Anonymous||reply 28||April 5, 2019 3:58 AM|
The Dyatlov Pass holds many mysteries, but none more horrible than the story of the woman known as "Poo Shoes."
|by Anonymous||reply 29||April 5, 2019 3:58 AM|
As Kevin Spacey woke up from troubled dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous vermin.
|by Anonymous||reply 30||April 5, 2019 4:01 AM|
He was well past 50 but looked 25 in the right light or so he told himself as he perused his latest copy of Caftan Living Today, desperately searching for a coupon for half off his next purchase.
|by Anonymous||reply 31||April 5, 2019 4:04 AM|
It was raining and cold in Hell's Kitchen and all the best rent boys had the flu.
|by Anonymous||reply 32||April 5, 2019 4:09 AM|
You've got to climb to the top of Mount Everest to reach the Datalounge.
|by Anonymous||reply 33||April 5, 2019 4:09 AM|
I want to post about this, but I knew he was out there, ready to pounce on, crushing my post, my spirit, my soul. Damn you, R1. Damn you.
|by Anonymous||reply 34||April 5, 2019 4:12 AM|
He spit out what was now painfully evident not a turkey meatball...
|by Anonymous||reply 35||April 5, 2019 4:17 AM|
Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone, DL told me, just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had, so be sure to tell them.
|by Anonymous||reply 36||April 5, 2019 4:17 AM|
It was a pleasure to die in a grease fire.
|by Anonymous||reply 37||April 5, 2019 4:20 AM|
An unsuspecting young neighbor was travelling, in midsummer, from his native city of Grand Rapids to Davos-Platz in the Canton of the Grisons, on a three weeks’ visit with the octogenarian and his beloved Mitzi.
|by Anonymous||reply 38||April 5, 2019 4:34 AM|
Now is the winter of our bitchcontent.
|by Anonymous||reply 39||April 5, 2019 4:40 AM|
And on the seventh day, he cunted.
|by Anonymous||reply 40||April 5, 2019 4:41 AM|
Datalounge was dead, to begin with.
|by Anonymous||reply 41||April 5, 2019 4:42 AM|
“I like blue” he said innocently and, if her nerves held, for the very last time, as she rose from the comfort of her breakfast nook steadily holding the bedazzling gun in her cool right hand.
|by Anonymous||reply 42||April 5, 2019 4:52 AM|
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral of the Internet lies a small unregarded cunty bitchfest.
|by Anonymous||reply 43||April 5, 2019 4:55 AM|
Let me tell you the truth about transexuals and their insidious agenda to turn all men into women.
|by Anonymous||reply 44||April 5, 2019 4:57 AM|
Assume a spherical frau...
|by Anonymous||reply 45||April 5, 2019 4:59 AM|
which one of you bitches is my mother?
|by Anonymous||reply 46||April 5, 2019 5:02 AM|
Datalounge was not beautiful.
|by Anonymous||reply 47||April 5, 2019 5:06 AM|
When Mr. Dildo Baggins of Erna's End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday (111, but he didn't look a day over 35) with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton
|by Anonymous||reply 48||April 5, 2019 5:09 AM|
I knew enough about the bitchiness of Datalounge. That you ought not visit it without acknowledging the wrath you might incur.
|by Anonymous||reply 49||April 5, 2019 5:09 AM|
In the twilight, my earrings sparkled, while the gentle breeze not only nudged my caftan, it also carried a slight chill toward my delicious cak and graxy.
|by Anonymous||reply 50||April 5, 2019 5:11 AM|
The novel made straight into a film:
50 Fist Dates - the live and times of Chris Burrous
|by Anonymous||reply 51||April 5, 2019 5:13 AM|
The fatness swelled yet she continued to peruse the skirt aisle for that special something to corral her new found grindr
|by Anonymous||reply 52||April 5, 2019 5:15 AM|
The Disappointed Trick
Once upon a midnight bleary, while I argued fat and sneery, Over many a trite and arcane nuance of forgotten lore, While I scolded, shrilly snapping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one boredly rapping, rapping at my rest-home door.
|by Anonymous||reply 53||April 5, 2019 5:17 AM|
A hissing comes across the sky.
|by Anonymous||reply 54||April 5, 2019 5:18 AM|
The Disappointed Trick
Once upon a midnight bleary, while I argued fat and sneery,
Over many a trite and arcane nuance of forgotten lore—
While I scolded, shrilly snapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one boredly rapping, rapping at my rest-home door.
|by Anonymous||reply 55||April 5, 2019 5:20 AM|
I had an EST in Africa, but it was full of foreigners so I left immediately.
|by Anonymous||reply 56||April 5, 2019 5:25 AM|
The sky was so blue that day...
|by Anonymous||reply 57||April 5, 2019 6:22 AM|
Years ago there was thread about an interview Joey Luft gave for some show he was in and some fucking genius here rewrote it, using JOey's unique voice, I died, and I copied and pasted it in my notes: Joey Luft remembers it well: appearing on the 1963 Christmas episode of his mother Judy Garland's CBS musical-variety series with his two older sisters, Lorna Luft and Liza Minnelli. On a recent afternoon, Luft was rewatching the show, his eyes wide and a smile dancing across his face as his younger self broke into "Where Is Love?" on the classic yuletide show. "I like blue,'" said the 59-year-old Luft, a slight man who is a bundle of energy. "I like blue." Though half-sister Minnelli, who is an Oscar, Tony, Emmy and Grammy award-winner, and Lorna Luft, who has never won a single award, have followed in their mother's footsteps, their baby brother has largely lived out of the public eye. "I like blue," said Luft, who has studied photography and sound and has worked as a kind of editor-runner. Though he may not be famous, "I like blue," said Luft, who appeared with his siblings at the Oscars this past March for a 75th anniversary tribute to "The Wizard of Oz," the 1939 classic that made Garland a star. "I like blue." He's finally getting the opportunity to tell people he likes blue in "A Judy Garland Concert With Joey Luft," which opens Friday and continues through Sunday at the Pasadena Playhouse. The evening features colorized footage from "The Judy Garland Show" of the legend performing such standards as "Stormy Weather," "Come Rain or Come Shine" and of course "Over the Rainbow." In between clips, Luft and the show's producer, John Kimble, his childhood friend and longtime associate of his late father, producer Sid Luft, will talk about blue and liking blue. "I like blue,'" said Luft in a recent interview at Kimble's Culver City home. "I like blue," said Luft, who was 14 in 1969 when his mother died of an overdose of barbiturates. "I like blue." Luft stood up to imitate his mother when she guest-starred on NBC's "The Jack Paar Show." "Mama likes blue," said Luft, as he mimes sweeping the floor. "Mama likes blue and so does little Joey." The story lead to another memory of watching a hockey game with Lorna and Garland in his mother's bedroom. "My mom liked blue," said Luft. "I said '"Does Mama like blue?" And she goes, 'yes Mama likes blue you little fucking tard." And she walks off. Then we started laughing." His father was Garland's third husband and is credited with resurrecting her career after she was fired from MGM in 1950. He colorized the black-and-white "Judy Garland Show" before his death in 2005 at the age of 89. One of the colors was blue, a favorite of Luft's. "I like blue," said Luft. "Mama's TV show didn't have any blue, so I made them put blue in it." "We have cleaned up all the audio and made it look like it was shot yesterday," added Kimble. Kimble said that they have booked a fall tour of the show in Canada, invited theaters to a workshop production of the show a few weeks ago in Culver City and currently are making tweaks to the evening before they open in Pasadena. The playhouse will also have an exhibit of rare photos from Garland's life and career as well as Michael Siewert's collection of costumes from many of her classic films. Luft's siblings won't be attending the show. Lorna lives in Palm Springs and is awaiting the birth of a grandchild that Joey hopes is blue. "Drunk Sissy is in New York," said Luft. "She wore blue at the Oscars. I was there." Luft hopes his show will keep the memory of his mother and her talent alive for years to come. "They know Mama, but they don't know that she liked blue," said Luft, who added that he also likes blue. "The color that I like the most is blue."
|by Anonymous||reply 58||April 5, 2019 6:28 AM|
Stevie laughed as she kicked me in the cunt.
|by Anonymous||reply 59||April 5, 2019 6:32 AM|
r32 started something I would actually like to continue reading.
|by Anonymous||reply 60||April 5, 2019 6:44 AM|
On the subject of ladies’ hats and gloves, there can be no debate.
|by Anonymous||reply 61||April 5, 2019 4:47 PM|
|by Anonymous||reply 62||April 5, 2019 4:52 PM|
The first thing you need to know is that I'm not the Elaborate Scenario Troll.
|by Anonymous||reply 63||April 5, 2019 4:55 PM|
It was the afternoon of my eighty-first birthday (everyone tells me that I look thirty-five), and I was in bed with my catamite when Ali announced that a cunt with her purse on fire had come to see me.
|by Anonymous||reply 64||April 5, 2019 4:58 PM|
Like all who stumble upon its portal, he had been warned that The Datalounge was not for the squeamish, but his torrid imagination, elevated though it had been by his years at Harvard and the subsequent companionship of some truly vicious cunts, had not envisaged the vile display that spread across his laptop after he clicked on the words “Join the Bitchfest.”
|by Anonymous||reply 65||April 5, 2019 5:13 PM|
I was distressing to find myself in bed with four others and I was not the one I liked the most.
|by Anonymous||reply 66||April 5, 2019 5:13 PM|
It was a typical early April morning in Mandan when Ben arrived for work. Little did he know that hours later he would be a Datalounge legend.
|by Anonymous||reply 67||April 5, 2019 5:14 PM|
It was midnight. As I ran to catch my Uber, I slipped on the nacreaous layer of permacum that seems to have coated everything here.
|by Anonymous||reply 68||April 5, 2019 5:17 PM|
He hesitated but a moment before typing the words “opening sentence—singular—you nitwit” after which he felt somehow superior, at least to poor r68.
|by Anonymous||reply 69||April 5, 2019 5:25 PM|
Whores Whores! All of you. The caftan wearing oldster clutched it's pearls and drooled as it typed those two words with it's hoary talons.
|by Anonymous||reply 70||April 5, 2019 5:36 PM|
It was the best of gays, it was the worst of gays.
|by Anonymous||reply 71||April 5, 2019 6:59 PM|
He had traveled the length and breadth of our great nation, from Manhattan to Malibu, and North Beach to Noho, even venturing into such exotic locales as Hoboken and the San Fernando Valley (well, Calabasas), but never in all his wandering had he seen a dump like this.
|by Anonymous||reply 72||April 5, 2019 7:07 PM|
I am an invisible child
|by Anonymous||reply 73||April 5, 2019 7:09 PM|
I was told by passerby that my pussy stinks.
|by Anonymous||reply 74||April 5, 2019 7:22 PM|
The words echoed through his mind like bullets ricocheting off concrete: “This is why they hate us.”
|by Anonymous||reply 75||April 5, 2019 7:24 PM|
Slowly but surely he bends over, presenting his hole like a good gay boy does...
|by Anonymous||reply 76||April 5, 2019 7:32 PM|
No Margo No!
|by Anonymous||reply 77||April 5, 2019 7:49 PM|
R12 lol brilliant!
|by Anonymous||reply 78||April 5, 2019 7:51 PM|
All was gay, and all was swell, at our home on the DL, then came...the Frauen.
|by Anonymous||reply 79||April 5, 2019 7:55 PM|
The Welcome Wagon cuntress, sixty if he was a day but working at youth and vivacity (ginger hair, red lips, a sunshine-yellow caftan), twinkled his eyes and teeth at MARY!OP and hissed, “You’re really going to loathe it here!
|by Anonymous||reply 80||April 5, 2019 7:56 PM|
|by Anonymous||reply 81||April 5, 2019 7:57 PM|
Datalounge, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Da-ta-lounge: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of two steps down the palate, only to retreat, at three, leaving behind a gaping hole. Da-ta-lounge....
|by Anonymous||reply 82||April 5, 2019 8:16 PM|
I have a raging crush on R12
|by Anonymous||reply 83||April 5, 2019 8:17 PM|
As DL fave , Dame Olivia De Haviland , stretched across her Parisian Chaise , wondering just who should she start another frivolous lawsuit against. She clutched at her chenille wrap , glancing over at the photo of a nude Errol by her bedside. She felt an odd chill . It was the ghost of Luise Rainer and Joan Rivers. She heard the husky words of her old friend Bette , " ARE YOU READY LIVVIE ? " Olivia let out a shriek , worthy of THE SWARM.
|by Anonymous||reply 84||April 5, 2019 8:17 PM|
WORDS WOUND, OP. Novels support the patriarchy.
You should have suggested a novella, OP, so that wimmin and other non-penised persons could tell their story - their HERSTORY.
Misogyny WOUNDS, OP.
I am telling you NOW so I do not have to tell you THEN.
|by Anonymous||reply 85||April 5, 2019 8:28 PM|
The last line of our novel:
"As God is my witness, I'll never not have sufficient again!"
|by Anonymous||reply 86||April 5, 2019 9:33 PM|
It was after I got to Boston, that I went into the anechoic chamber at Harvard University. Everybody who knows me, knows this story. Anyway, in that silent room...
|by Anonymous||reply 87||April 5, 2019 11:01 PM|
I'd often considered licking the cookie crumbs off of my keyboard but today was the first day I actually did it.
|by Anonymous||reply 88||April 5, 2019 11:50 PM|
LAST LINES OF THE NOVEL:
They had blocked me. I was FF'D and greyed out. They frankly did not give a damn. But I wouldn't think about that now. I would clear my cookies, yes, and be back after a number of visits. After all, tomorrow IS another day.
|by Anonymous||reply 89||April 6, 2019 12:22 AM|
“You are not the kind of guy who would be at a website like this at this time of the morning."
|by Anonymous||reply 90||April 6, 2019 12:26 AM|
"Move it, toots!" said the angry middle-aged man, his kaftan struggling to contain his substantial girth.
|by Anonymous||reply 91||April 6, 2019 12:32 AM|
It was a dark and stormy night...once again, as before, he roughly forced me to my knees, grabbing my hands with his, bending them backwards until I cried out in pain...
|by Anonymous||reply 92||April 6, 2019 12:33 AM|
Damn!, said the Datalounger, as he fell down the stairs.
|by Anonymous||reply 93||April 6, 2019 12:37 AM|
Damn! Damn! Damn!
|by Anonymous||reply 94||April 6, 2019 12:38 AM|
Chapter One. I am born.
|by Anonymous||reply 95||April 6, 2019 12:40 AM|
The energy was high and the music pumping as the men on the dance floor began swirling around in many different ways. All of a sudden, a slew of high pitched, ear shattering "woo!" was heard as a dozen millenial blonde women slithered their way onto the dance floor. The bar manager walked up to the DJ, gave him a neck slice sign, and the DJ instantly cut off the Donna Summer megamix. The plethora of sweaty men began clapping and stomping with glares towards the unwanted invaders who instantly realized that they were not welcome, and turned sheepishly away and left the club.
|by Anonymous||reply 96||April 6, 2019 12:45 AM|
Joel, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Jo-el.
|by Anonymous||reply 97||April 6, 2019 12:51 AM|
In those days cheap apartments were almost impossible to find in Manhattan, so I had to move to Hudson.
|by Anonymous||reply 98||April 6, 2019 1:08 AM|
We’d organized a hunt, but failed to agree whether a transgendered male could be used instead of a fox. The caftan wearers stormed off in a huff to their Royal Doulton while the Lesbians the Masc Men stood in the rain, sharing their bourbon and laughing.
|by Anonymous||reply 99||April 6, 2019 1:12 AM|
Stately plump BILL TAYLOR....
|by Anonymous||reply 100||April 6, 2019 1:15 AM|
The final line:
"So we beat off, cocks against the current, borne bareback ceaselessly into the ass."
|by Anonymous||reply 101||April 6, 2019 1:50 AM|
This old man. He played one. He played whack whack on my bum. For a nick knack tushy rub sucking on my bone. This old man built me a home.
|by Anonymous||reply 102||April 6, 2019 2:00 AM|
I am the first sentence, and apparently many DLers can’t comprehend “Give me the first sentence”.
|by Anonymous||reply 103||April 6, 2019 2:03 AM|
I always knew Harry and I were meant to be together.
|by Anonymous||reply 104||April 6, 2019 2:03 AM|
So far, r91 wins.
|by Anonymous||reply 105||April 6, 2019 2:05 AM|
"'Princess Diana DEAD,' Michael blurted, and tried not to smirk when Richard let out an involuntary shriek."
|by Anonymous||reply 106||April 6, 2019 2:08 AM|
I am the resurrection and the life of a fading cigarette in a dark bar.
|by Anonymous||reply 107||April 6, 2019 2:09 AM|
“Meh,” he said; “I’ve seen bigger.”
|by Anonymous||reply 108||April 6, 2019 5:23 AM|
You know there’s a leash law in this town, I said as he unzipped his fly revealing the biggest one I ever saw.
|by Anonymous||reply 109||April 6, 2019 5:27 AM|
I am corn.
|by Anonymous||reply 110||April 6, 2019 10:38 AM|
The font was so black that day.
|by Anonymous||reply 111||April 6, 2019 11:22 AM|
"The screen above the media port was the color of Eurovision......"
|by Anonymous||reply 112||April 6, 2019 11:35 AM|
There was a name for the people who posted there -- but it isn't used in high society. Outside of a kennel.
|by Anonymous||reply 113||April 6, 2019 5:00 PM|
This is the story before the grease fire.
|by Anonymous||reply 114||April 7, 2019 1:30 AM|
|by Anonymous||reply 115||April 7, 2019 1:39 AM|
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Datalounge poster in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a good caftan.
|by Anonymous||reply 116||April 7, 2019 1:46 AM|
You know how bitchy fags can be.
|by Anonymous||reply 117||April 7, 2019 2:15 AM|
If only she had her cane, she could have escaped the grease fire.
|by Anonymous||reply 118||April 7, 2019 6:53 AM|
There was a time her pussy didn't stink.
|by Anonymous||reply 119||April 7, 2019 6:54 AM|
Yeah, that ought to fly right off the shelves, r119.
|by Anonymous||reply 120||April 7, 2019 6:56 AM|
I am Robert Sepúlveda, Jr., whom no man will ever possess for free. Clad only in jockstrap and carrying one Truvada pill, I held off the entire staff of Nasty Pig, a tribe who possess no words for "May I help you?" or "Mind the prolapse." Wielding an iPhone XR in Coral, I read the faces, the abs, the nonexistent bulges of their finest salesbottoms, my beauty blinding them, as it does all men, unmanning them in the way that Gio Benitez was reduced from animated gibbering to stunned slence by beauteous Tommi DiDario, whom I resemble in my Rentmen profile minus all the moles.
|by Anonymous||reply 121||April 7, 2019 7:15 AM|
The margarine, formerly a hot and glistening aureate stream, had been transformed into a shameful mass of dull yellow clots which dropped periodically from the bottom tier of the fountain, falling with a great plop into their mass grave.
|by Anonymous||reply 122||April 7, 2019 7:16 AM|
Don't quit your day jobs, most of you.
|by Anonymous||reply 123||April 7, 2019 7:18 AM|
Dear Reader, in awakening to a morning like this, full of promise as if manifesting an ancient prediction, cradling a mug to let the warmth seep into fingers which only last night had pearls in a death grip, one faces the sun and gives fanks to all beings for such a moment of peace, one slowly begins to realize it will all end in tears, courtesy of an ogre who demands your humble correspondent types fat; with a sigh, said correspondent commences to obey. fat fat fat
|by Anonymous||reply 124||April 7, 2019 10:13 AM|
Percy lived in fear that one of his old school chums might wander into the shop and discover that he had been reduced to sales-bottoming after the scandal at the bank.
|by Anonymous||reply 125||April 7, 2019 2:21 PM|
Submitted as originally written, as he is the ultimate Datalounger . . .
[quote]A green hunting cap squeezed the top of the fleshy balloon of a head. The green earflaps, full of large ears and uncut hair and the fine bristles that grew in the ears themselves, stuck out on either side like turn signals indicating two directions at once. Full, pursed lips protruded beneath the bushy black moustache and, at their corners, sank into little folds filled with disapproval and potato chip crumbs. In the shadow under the green visor of the cap Ignatius J. Reilly’s supercilious blue and yellow eyes looked down upon the other people waiting under the clock at the D. H. Holmes department store, studying the crowd of people for signs of bad taste and dress. Several of the outfits, Ignatius noticed, were new enough and expensive enough to be properly considered offenses against taste and decency. Possession of anything new or expensive only reflected a person’s lack of theology and geometry; it could even cast doubts upon one’s soul.
|by Anonymous||reply 126||April 7, 2019 8:10 PM|
"See you next Tuesday," I shouted at the fraus in my office as left to start my three-day weekend.
|by Anonymous||reply 127||April 8, 2019 3:57 AM|
R123 Do tell, which ones did you like?
|by Anonymous||reply 128||April 8, 2019 4:16 AM|
It was hot and sultry, but brimming with Bellinis.
|by Anonymous||reply 129||April 8, 2019 4:29 AM|
the night was....
|by Anonymous||reply 130||April 8, 2019 4:33 AM|
Her mouth and chin bespeckled with brightly colored grease, Sarah Huckabee Sanders looked up guiltily from the remains of her late evening snack as she sucked the last bits of marrow out of the chicken bones.
|by Anonymous||reply 131||April 8, 2019 4:53 AM|
Mike, as always, is working far too hard to make the next gathering in Palm Springs to be one to truly remember (if it kills everyone). He can't stop rubbing his forehead in frustration, not realizing he has Leptomeningeal carcinomatosis. Same as Valerie Harper. *cough*
Mike will loudly continuously, righteously and religiously take his PrEP, yet will die anyway because of the uptight weirdness that has been his personality deficiency since birth.
|by Anonymous||reply 132||April 8, 2019 6:39 AM|
Muriel was never good at the suck job, but God, could she code.
|by Anonymous||reply 133||April 8, 2019 6:55 AM|
[quote] Muriel was never good at the suck job, but God, could she code.
To be found in the Short Fiction section.
|by Anonymous||reply 134||April 8, 2019 1:42 PM|
I am crying... As I type.
|by Anonymous||reply 135||April 8, 2019 3:28 PM|
"One last con, then I'll quit....just one more for old times' sake" Clarence muttered under his breath as he took his first tentative steps toward the salad bar, trembling yet preternaturally youthful hand struggling to maintain a death grip on his used [italic]Once Around the Garden[/italic] plate.
|by Anonymous||reply 136||April 8, 2019 5:54 PM|
Oooh, Clarence—you in trouble. I need to know what happens next, r136. As if I don’t already know.
|by Anonymous||reply 137||April 8, 2019 5:56 PM|
This morning as usual , I could not maintain an erection. My physician called it " The DL'ers lament. "
|by Anonymous||reply 138||April 8, 2019 6:35 PM|
I ♥️ R132!!!!
|by Anonymous||reply 139||April 8, 2019 6:53 PM|
She couldn't live forever - stuck deliberating on the appropriateness of spitting or swallowing, she choked.
|by Anonymous||reply 140||April 8, 2019 11:27 PM|
"I hate to exercise," the spunky redhead said, "but I love to tap!"
|by Anonymous||reply 141||April 8, 2019 11:38 PM|
It was rape, she decided; but still, it wasn't [italic]rape[/italic]-rape.
|by Anonymous||reply 142||April 9, 2019 12:04 AM|
"We were somewhere around the Bellagio on the edge of the desert when the poo began to take hold."
|by Anonymous||reply 143||April 9, 2019 1:23 AM|
"I said cilantro!" he hissed, as I sat nimbly atop a bespoke bar stool and watched as he jabbed the air around him wildly with a wilting bunch of parsely.
|by Anonymous||reply 144||April 9, 2019 4:37 AM|
The little girl stares at me silently, our eyes lock...she turns and kisses her doll..
|by Anonymous||reply 145||April 9, 2019 7:10 AM|
No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.
|by Anonymous||reply 146||April 9, 2019 8:31 AM|
Being forever blocked, she had no idea how her poo got on the shoes.
|by Anonymous||reply 147||April 9, 2019 11:01 AM|
Brevity, I do not know her.
|by Anonymous||reply 148||April 9, 2019 11:04 AM|
"Erna was not beautiful but men seldom noticed, so enchanted were they by her charms....."
|by Anonymous||reply 149||April 9, 2019 11:07 AM|
Thanks for all the ideas guys!
|by Anonymous||reply 150||April 9, 2019 11:08 AM|
When they finally made it to Billing, they discovered a sad truth: Ginnie had already made her exit.
|by Anonymous||reply 151||April 9, 2019 11:14 AM|
The blood flowed from the basement dweller like glutenous unstrained spaghetti.
|by Anonymous||reply 152||April 9, 2019 11:18 AM|
Well, if you really want to know how the entity laughingly known as the “Data Lounge” took shape, I suppose you could begin by asking me, though I do not claim access to all the details.
There are others, hiding in plain sight in secret enclaves, communicating in arcane tongues, with mysterious code words, some of which I know, while others still defy translation:
No one admits to understanding this. But I must warn you that all those who have explored its meaning have only found frustration and despair.
There will be tears.
|by Anonymous||reply 153||April 9, 2019 1:41 PM|
"It was a pleasure to burn...when I got flamed on Datalounge."
|by Anonymous||reply 154||April 10, 2019 12:16 AM|
Chrissy Metz was getting hangry.
|by Anonymous||reply 155||April 10, 2019 1:43 AM|
My hole quivered as the football team entered the locker room.
|by Anonymous||reply 156||April 10, 2019 1:46 AM|
There was a time when his nephew was not his everything.
|by Anonymous||reply 157||April 11, 2019 5:39 AM|
Pon cried herself to sleep as she did every night, though this time her tears were of relief. Earlier that day, she finally had the courage to sneak onto Chrissy's laptop to try and find a way out. While doing so, she discovered Datalounge.
Pon, after so many years alone, had discovered friends.
|by Anonymous||reply 158||April 11, 2019 7:17 AM|
|by Anonymous||reply 159||April 11, 2019 8:28 AM|
In the gloaming, the fat womon on garbage detail was plying her trade.
|by Anonymous||reply 160||April 11, 2019 8:42 AM|
|by Anonymous||reply 161||April 11, 2019 9:21 AM|
Welcome to my home!
|by Anonymous||reply 162||April 13, 2019 12:01 PM|
Y’all muthafuckas ain’t gonna belee this shit.
|by Anonymous||reply 163||April 13, 2019 12:54 PM|
As dozens of other diners fled, Cheryl sat in the restaurant, dejected, finally realizing that yes, her pussy stank...and it was much worse than she realized.
|by Anonymous||reply 164||April 13, 2019 1:18 PM|