I went and visited some relatives in Washington for Christmas last year. To be perfectly honest, it didn't sound like a very inviting prospect because if I hate my mother, then it would only be obvious that I would hate my mother's side of the family almost just as much. I knew a friend up there that I visited whenever I got the chance, but the man seemed to have changed since I saw him last. Let's tentatively call him Bob.
Bob and I were bored while we froze our asses off outside.
"Bob, why the fuck aren't we indoors? Your house isn't that far from here."
I say that because Bob lives in the countryside where the Amish apparently invaded and used whatever dark witchcraft they wielded to curse the grounds from ever being paved. Not that it would help since there must've been around 3 to 4 inches of snow on the ground. Now wandering the Washington wilderness alone with Bob, it can be a rather stressful endeavor. Bob was a bit of an eccentric fellow; he was superstitious to say the least. He was randomly pissing on the trees we walked by, saying he was "spirit-herding and creating a barrier of trees to trap his latest harvest" but I personally thought he was bullshitting me just so he can show off his impressive package, seemingly unfazed by the chilly night air. He was wearing shorts in sandals with a tye-dye T-shirt while I was dressed in enough layers of clothing to stop a bullet. Bob is an odd fellow, but I had reason to suspect that Bob was on drugs that cold wintery night due to his behavior that seemed even more out of place than usual.
I wasn't one to complain, because I was cold. When I'm cold, I become irritable, and when I become irritable, I start to drink excessively, and that's something that warms you right up in 15-degree weather. As I drank, I kept asking Bob "When the hell are we going to get to your house?", slowly growing impatient with him as he simply responded "Just a little further now, Conrad." Don't ask where the fuck that nickname came from, but for some reason Bob always called me Conrad and occasionally threw rice and flower pedals in front of me as I walked, apparently blessing the ground I treaded on. I believe Bob thought I was the devil, but he always confused me and my brother so I didn't hold it against him. He's also colorblind, so he can't tell me--a man white enough to look deceased and my brother who looks like a beaner-apart from one another. Of course this made me question if he really knew where the hell he was going, but Bob always pulls through in the last moment.
Eventually we saw a tent and Bob told me the carnival was in town, so we should go inside and warm up. Against my better judgment I did, and as I wandered in, it was indeed warmer. But there were a lot of shady people. There was a scantily-dressed woman within this ring of people, and all the men were gazing lustfully at her as they undid their belts. I did not like where this was going. That woman is going to catch a cold in this weather; she needs to put something warmer on immediately. These men were clearly giving her their jeans and pants to warm her up, but what about them? Another man came out of nowhere made his way into the center.
"Thank god, this person looks dignified. Maybe he'll halt what the hell is about to unfold here and help this poor woman."
He was carrying a leash with him. And I saw an animal. I immediately started chugging my whiskey because I knew where I was. Bob, god bless him, had led me to a Donkey Show.
Now this wasn't necessarily the first time I was in an enclosed space with about two dozen men jerking off, but it certainly was going to be last. I immediately started freaking out, but I didn't want to work my way through the crowd; God knows how many erections I would have to grind against to make my escape, and considering these were new clothes, I didn't want to get them dirty. So what did I do? I jumped into the center of the ring of people where the woman and the donkey stood. If I could redirect the crowd out of my way, I could leave. So I used the last of my whiskey and set the poor woman on fire. She ran screaming for the exit, as would be expected. The crowd avoided her because apparently fire is bad, then I got on the Donkey and gallantly chased behind her to make my exit.
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