Whataburger Pussy
Summertime correspondence between friends is usually filled with tales of tumbling out of Aunt Rickshaw’s apple tree or swimming at the community pool with loads of new pals. Fortunately I don’t know anyone that boring, so when my friends decided to chat it up one night they began to dabble down dirty lane and stumbled on some pretty disgusting artifacts.
I will only refer to these two friends as Dupa and Chatternacle. When they got to talking shop here is what they had to say:
Dupa- How’d the date go?
11:26pm
Chatternacle-
Ugh, never happened but did I mention I found a waffle maker?
11:27pm
Dupa-
COOL! Way better than wiener.
11:27pm
Chatternacle-
It was prolly small.
11:29pm
Dupa-
You gotta investigate through the jeans before you get busy, thats my motto.
11:29pm
Chatternacle-
You are so wise, mom. Nothing worse than a cocktail straw in this Whataburger pussy you know?
11:30pm
Dupa-
WHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!
Girl, how whataburgery is your pussy, and what does that mean?
11:33pm
Chatternacle-
Its open 24 hours, its hot, juicy, comes wit pickles and a lotta mustard.
Its wrapped in paper,
Its 4.98 wit tax,
You want it late at night,
Its too much 4 kids to handle.
11:34pm
Dupa-
You fucked up, girl!
11:34pm
Chatternacle-
Best kept pussy. Ssshhh don’t tell.
11:34pm
Dupa-
Margaret wants to know if it comes with a toy?
11:34pm
Chatternacle-
LOLLLZ
11:35pm
Dupa-
Man that is some funny shit! Keep it coming
11:37pm
Chatternacle-
I will. Just give me some time, I need some snacks.
THE END
womp womp!
I am officially done with Whataburger!!!
Thanks Chatternacle