Wednesday, November 25, 2009

misty in malibu...


    For one brief moment, misty had forgotten about the very sexy murder she had seen last nite.
     women, killing men, always hot.
     but in the 'bu', malibu for the uninitiated, everything is younger.
     misty had seen a teeny booper...a member of what now must be the z-generation...bring a boy toy bar pickup home from a club. to, presumably, daddy's summer beach house.
     she did the nawty nasty with him.
     and then iced him.

     sooo very misty.
     but misty get's paid good moolah for killing guys. misty's a professional. and misty has a code.
     little miss malibu was simply satisfying her inner brat.
     killing for fun.
     misty does not approve of such tres licentious behavior.
     tho...misty did love watching.
     bad misty!

misty had been a peeping misty, using her black ops nite
vision binox to spy a very very delish murder in the 'bu'

     so i was in 'the' bu.
     barbie dollz who could walk, talk, and suck cock at the same time. talents never cease in 'the' malibu.

     misty was getting misty-faced on greygoose greyhoundz at the cove restaurant and bar. how quaint, n'est pas?
     the guy behind the bar looked like stonewall jackson, but was apparently that dude who wrote the bobby mcgee song.
     what was next? mick jagger and warren beatty coming in on walkers, going boy to boy like the '60s?
     yikkity yukkk!

     i had stopped in this hotel california twilight zone to make a call.
     i needed work. someone to kill.
     that's what i do. i'm a hitwoman.
     la news tragique pour misty was that hits fucking waves. they get here when they get here.
     ohhh, myyy, gawddd! i was making surf analogies!
     malibu was having a very delimiting effect on our sweet hit-babe misty!
     but there was hope.

     and she was wearing 4" valentino stilettos with perfectly frosted blonde hair and blood red lipstick.
     she was part of the never never land misty was stuck in.
     a vacuously deoxygenated environ that drew the substance from one's very soul.
     normally misty likes asphyxia...but this was unrelenting!
     if tall frosty blonde in valentino spikes didn't walk through those patio doors tres soon...misty would pay her bar tab. stagger to her rented '57 356 porsche speedster. and drive a mile or so to the malibu ranch motel where she could collapse in a drunken misty stupor, in comfort. if the ranch had cable on demand, i could catch 'romeo's bleeding', and touch myself as lena olin strangles gary oldman with her thighs in that car scene.

misty was a professional assassin, like lee marvin and
that other dude in shades in 'the killers'...except misty
looked so much hotter in a prada leather skirt than
lee evah did

     i watched the fat brown pelican shit one last time on the vomitously rustic malibu cove pier, shimmering like cow crap in the early afternoon malibu sun.
     i told my grey goose saturated beautiful flesh to rise and leave. but grey goose has the side effect of causing time delays in the muscle reactory continuum vis a vis the mind synaptic relays.
     fuck! misty was drunk. she was thinking in sophomore biology class-speak. yukkko!
     i thought that during my high school years, healthy doses of awakening lesbo sex, copious rum and cokes, and unhealthy amounts of lysergic acid diethylamide, had wiped my nightmare high school academic experiences from my misty mind.
     like the time i raped my algebra teacher with a dr. pepper bottle.
     he asked me to do it. begged me. gave me a year of A's. it traumatized poor young teen misty. and people wondered why mr. dannerforst walked around my junior year with a big fucking smile on his face...and a slight limp.
     oh well. welcome to misty hell.

okay, misty was a baddd teen. i raped my
high school algebra teach with a '10-2-4' classic
dr. peppah bottle. hey, he asked me to do it!
gave me a year of A's if i would. sick bastard!

     now, maybe you all are beginning to understand how someone of my...qualities...came to be.
     drugs. libertine sex at a tender age. a juicy misty body way beyond my misty years that teachers, male and female both, were asking me to do things outlawed in the Bible, as well as 50 state penal codes and several scandanavian countries.

     so here misty was. in her adulthood. drunkers.
     oh lord, stuck in 'the' malibu, again!
     wasn't that a creedance floodwater hit? whatevahhh...

     i struggled to forget the intoxicated stuporous floodgate of childhood memories overtaking me. i concentrated on standing up to leave.
     then...'She' came out the patio door!
     the world ceased.

misty was about to leave, get a room at the malibu ranch motel,
and catch 'romeo is bleeding' on free cable. that flick is where
yummerz lena olin strangles gary oldman with her legs from the
back seat of his car...ooooooooooh!

     "my apologies darling! those barbie dolls inside simply wouldn't stop talking about their thigh lifts and tummy lipos. i finally tore myself away!"
     barbie dolls? was she really aware of the vapidity of the world she inhabited
     she had a brain as well as a body.
     even had she not...this lady was such a haute hottie, misty would have died just to kiss her succulent calves. run my tongue along the soles of her well-arched feet, visible through her low slung valentinos...

     " are here. i was...was waiting. and here you are..." misty babbled stupidly.
     'She' smiled.
     like God. sending warming rays down upon humanity.

     "oh my, you are intoxicated aren't you," she said.
     "well, don't worry. if an hour or so conversation with me doesn't sober you up, we'll go to plan 'B'," she said, sitting so close i almost came.
     "wha...what's plan 'B'?" i inquired as my misty heart beat like a tom tom.
     "i'll take your flirts a few minutes ago seriously and show you why the guys voted me pasadena high's most kissable."
     ohhh myyy Gawwwd!!!

my new friend suzanne was playing toe tag with
misty under the table...her red painted steel heel
valentino stiletto was so...oh sooo!!!
     "by the way, my name is suzanne. no, you may not call me suzi. i was not a cheerleader in high school."
     misty didn't think before speaking...
     "can we go straight to plan 'B'...suzi? i mean suzanne?"
     " 'suzi'? am i going to have to spank you...hon?"
     ohhh myyy Gawwwd!!!

     misty's answer was obvious.
     "yes. you are!"
xoxoxo, misty

[to be...mmmmmm...continued...]


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