Kevin was a busycheekee, his partner Bruce was a butch busycheeker and they were getting married in Massachusetts. Or ..so..they...though.
by Luigi July 11, 2004
Pubic hairs on the testicles that have been burned, usually in the dangerous sport of Fart-Flaming. Fart-Flaming is played, either singly, in doubles or in groups (see Mongolian Cluster Fuck) by eating foods that produce immense amounts of intestinal gas, then waiting for a flatus event. As the fart begins to pass the sphincter, the player lights the gas, containing considerable methand and hydrogen sulfide, with a match or a Bic Lighter. If the flame is not extinguished fast enough or if the player is careless, the nut hairs can become singed.
Bill and Ted got together with Beavis and Butthead to play Fart-Flames and ended up with a case of singed nut hairs.
by Luigi August 12, 2004
Synonymous with internet cafe; a place that serves coffee, drinks and has terminals and internet connections to rent by the hour.
The cyber café where Mark tended to end up, evening after evening, served a mediocre Napa white and superb T1 internet access. Mark had a laptop and a dial-up connection in his apartment, but he preferred the faster online connection and the false sense of camaraderie at the café. In truth, no one ever spoke to anyone else there--even the barrista made the drinks in church-like silence. Each patron sipped at his computer booth, lost in a cyberworld of their own creation.
There was a bright new banner, announcing an online dating service. “30 Days, Guaranteed or Your Money Back!” it boasted. What the hell, thought Mark, who was an optimist despite some notable dating disasters in the past. There was that gal from Medway, the one with the three cats and the bad case of…Mark shuddered and tried to wipe that image out of his mind. What the hell, thought Mark, and signed on.
Night after night, he faced a woman across a table, and night after night the same thoughts were exchanged: He’s better than I thought. She’s worse than I imagined. I could manage him, if he’d get a better job. Why can’t there be a woman who’s smart and doesn’t look and smell like exactly a pit bull, thought Mark. There has to be one. Somewhere.
Then he met Belkis. “I changed my name from Magda, “ she confided. Magda, he thought, is a pretty exotic name already. What about Magda needed changing? He didn’t ask.
Belkis was smart, all right, and beautiful, in a dark and somewhat masculinely sinister way. Her figure was taut, her brows somewhat low, and her teeth looked white, but sharp. She wore red lipstick that left a mark on the espresso cups like a vampire bite.
Starting over wasn’t so bad, Mark thought. He didn't like his old job, his cramped apartment or that town anyway. Changing your identity could even be exciting, if you looked at it in the right light. He hadn’t heard from Belkis or her lawyers in over a month. Too bad he forgot to change his cell phone number. Belkis was a patient woman.
There was a bright new banner, announcing an online dating service. “30 Days, Guaranteed or Your Money Back!” it boasted. What the hell, thought Mark, who was an optimist despite some notable dating disasters in the past. There was that gal from Medway, the one with the three cats and the bad case of…Mark shuddered and tried to wipe that image out of his mind. What the hell, thought Mark, and signed on.
Night after night, he faced a woman across a table, and night after night the same thoughts were exchanged: He’s better than I thought. She’s worse than I imagined. I could manage him, if he’d get a better job. Why can’t there be a woman who’s smart and doesn’t look and smell like exactly a pit bull, thought Mark. There has to be one. Somewhere.
Then he met Belkis. “I changed my name from Magda, “ she confided. Magda, he thought, is a pretty exotic name already. What about Magda needed changing? He didn’t ask.
Belkis was smart, all right, and beautiful, in a dark and somewhat masculinely sinister way. Her figure was taut, her brows somewhat low, and her teeth looked white, but sharp. She wore red lipstick that left a mark on the espresso cups like a vampire bite.
Starting over wasn’t so bad, Mark thought. He didn't like his old job, his cramped apartment or that town anyway. Changing your identity could even be exciting, if you looked at it in the right light. He hadn’t heard from Belkis or her lawyers in over a month. Too bad he forgot to change his cell phone number. Belkis was a patient woman.
by Luigi August 07, 2004
by Luigi May 19, 2004