Dick Tac

Hey, folks, folks...folks. Now round nyea in Booztown there's been a lot of talk about blowjobs and Dale Earnhardt Sr. and Dale Earnhardt Sr. blowjobs and such. But folks, folks...folks...it's time to get serious for a second. I have something I need to get off my chest...and that something is the story of the time I met Charles Barkley.
When I woke up on the morning of September 13th, 2003, the last thing I expected to find in my living room was a totally naked Charles Barkley sitting on my couch hunched over with a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. Ironically, on that day this was the first thing I found in my living room, and it was quite a shock indeed! I said the only thing I could think of:
"Charles Barkley! What are you doing here?" I immediately felt like an idiot for not playing it cool, but Charles didn't even seem to know I was there. I stood around awkwardly for at least 30 seconds before I said, "Um, Charles?" The sexy African-American man before me lifted his head and looked me in the eyes. A single tear rolled down his cheek and in the most mournful, wavering voice I've ever heard, he said to me,
"It...it was s-so...so horrible." Before I had a chance to process this statement, the nude Charles Barkley sucked the cigarette he was smoking into his mouth and swallowed it whole. My puzzlement only grew as he raised his arms to the sky and screamed out "Cool runnings, mon!" before slumping back down into hangdog mode. Naturally curious, I queried,
"What the hell are you talking about, Sir Charles Barkley?" Charles Barkley responded by doing a full-body shiver, and then cracking up and then letting his laughs slowly devolve into sobs...and then he did another he did another full body shiver.
"Y-you want to know? Do you r-really...want to know?" I nodded my head. "Fine," he continued, "I'll tell you what the hell I'm talking about...cra-cra-cracka..........so there I was...chillin in front of the coffee shop, just tracin' out a cool picture with my Rainbow Art DigiDraw. Also, I was watching Terminator 2 on my portable DVD player. And wearing my Jnco jeans and a hemp choker and a trucker hat. Well anyways, I was just sipping my coffee, watching the DVD, and tracing out a cool picture, when all of a sudden this guy on a motocycle comes speeding down the street at 80 miles per hour. I watched with horror as the vehicle slammed directly into a large concrete block sitting in the middle of the street. The motorcyle and its rider exploded into a mess of blood and metal and fiberglass and bones and brains. And muscles. His body splattered all over the place...part of his arm flew towards the sidewalk and knocked over a small child. It was just...awful.....people were crying and throwing up all over each other and and stuff. There was blood and bones and puke and human tears and motorcycle parts and muscles all over the place...it was a big mess."
"Wow..." was all I could think to say, "...that's horrible Charles, I can see why you are so shaken. Charles Barkley, I know you are a big naked manly tough guy, but I think you need a hug." Charles looked into my eyes with a look that said "Can I?" and I looked back with a look that said "Yes...yes you can." Charles Barkley rose from his seat, and slowly shuffled over to me with his arms kinda spread open. I spread my own arms wide an welcomed the traumatized baller into my "sphere of caring and understanding." Charles buried his head in my chest and once again began to sob uncontrollably. "There, there baby. It'll be alright, it'll be allright. Let it out, let it out," I told him in a soft, soothing voice as I patted his back. The poor guy only started to cry harder, practically choking as he gasped for breath between his wails of sorrow. "You poor thing." I whispered as I gently rubbed my hand in a circle on his back. Slowly, ever so slowly, I allowed my hand to creep downward. As I did so, Charles began to regain his compsure, his bawling turning into whimpering, his whimpering turning into quiet sniffles. He became almost totally silent as my index finger began to slide down his asscrack leisurely yet delibarately. He didn't say a word when I made contact with his asshole and began to softly massage it. I must have been doing something right, because he looked up into my face and winked at me. It was then that I realized I had made a horrible mistake...this man wasn't Sir Charles Barkley at all...it was rapper and actor DMX. As I stood there completely frozen with total shock and embarassment, DMX barked out,
"What? C'mon..."