#because i'm stuck using opera to dick around at work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queennicoleinboots · 4 years

Text

Swamp Ass

A/N: Alternate Reality. Shit just happens.

It was yet another 80 degree-Fahrenheit day in Georgia. But 80 degrees is not 80 degrees in Georgia. It's really closer to 100 degrees when you factor in humidity and radiation from cell phone towers. I was sweating (and eating) like a pig.

My husband, Joebear, was growling because his butt was sweating. He hated having swamp ass. So he turned on the air conditioner. He also had a fan blowing in his face. The bear needed to be cool in order to not go bear shit on the world.

Speaking of bears, Colonel Mac, a gray bear, was riding over swamp land in his power wheelchair. His wheels were getting stuck in the swamp bog, so he kept having to ride one foot forward and two feet back. He was also grumbling about having a swamp ass because it was sweating in the chair. Clearly, he was having a fucked-up day.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing also had a terrible case of swamp ass. He was taking a huge shit on some documents he needed to get rid of because his shredder stopped working. His angry brown bear wife named Megara thought his swamp ass was being put to good use. She had swamp ass, too.

I also had swamp ass. I was sitting under a tree in the swamp and eating vegetable soup and chocolate. I was also waiting on my husband's meatloaf to finish cooking so I could eat that. It had swamp ass, too.

Paul the Goat was trying to mow the swamp with his lawn mower because he was sick of the bog. His lawn mower broke. He started bleating with a deep voice and beating the hell out of the lawn mower. Apparently, he would scratch his butt every now and then. He lacked air conditioner and hot water. He had a case of swamp ass, too.

Hollywood, his horse that joined the Secret American Society of Sexually Frustrated Goats literally a second ago, also just took a sloppy, green dump on the lawn mower. His leg was in severe pain and needed an X-ray specifically done by a sexually frustrated goat veterinarian. Hollywood also had swamp ass.

Joebear realized that he could smell the horse shit. He sniffed the air and asked, "Whoa! What the fuck is that bullshit smell?" He squinched his nose and looked around to see Paul the Goat peeing on the lawn mower to rinse the horse shit off of it. The smell of the piss and shit was being caught in the fan. "Oh my God I'm braindead!" Joebear turned off the fan and stuck his head in the computer screen. "Actually braindead." Joebear scratched his head. He laughed. "That's fucked up. That's very much fucked up. And sometimes I wonder why I'm fucked up."

I laughed at my husband and said, "I'm sorry, bae. I'm fucked up."

Colonel Mac ran into a tree when he was backing up. The tree was moist and left a wet streak on Colonel Mac's back. "What the fuck is wrong with this tree?!" he screamed as he went forward and looked behind him as he shook his fist at the tree. "DOES IT NEED A MASSAGE?!" Even the tree had swamp ass.

"Apparently," I said. "I need a forehead massage to deal with all of this swamp ass!" I started to massage my own forehead.

"OH MY GOD!!!!!! FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!!!!" Joebear screamed at his computer. Apparently, it had swamp ass, too.

Colonel Mac tried to ride over to me before the damn wheelchair got caught on a fuckass tree root and sent him flying toward me. "HOLY SHIT!" he yelled in a strong Southern accent.

"All right. Time to get around this guy's dumb shit. Mother fucker!" Joebear growled as he referred to the tree with swamp ass and glared at his computer screen.

"I managed to get around the guy's dumb shit!" Colonel Mac screamed as his body ended up going through my forehead at Ludacris speed. He went physically through a tree before screaming as he landed right between Joebear and me. Then, Colonel Mac got up and started dancing a gig to the Chicken Dance song.

"Goddammit fucking horse!" Joebear screamed before Hollywood ran his bear ass over. The horse then kicked the shit out of the oven where the meatloaf was. "Ugh. Calm that shit down!" Joebear rolled over and growled.

Colonel Mac farted as he danced. Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing farted as he ate a piece of a chicken. I farted as my ass was now foggy bottom.

The oven threw out the meatloaf and flew into Joebear's bear ass. "Just random kids! Why are they writing stories about my dinner going in my ass? Let's get rid of this dumb shit." On that note, Joebear took a shit. He also cussed out Black Desert Online and Magic the Gathering as he played them on his computer. He tried to play League of Legends, but he kept getting matches where he was 4 versus 5.

Colonel Mac also took this moment to take a shit to finish the dance. His ass was now a swamp. His shit literally consumed all of us. Now we were located in Swamp Ass Mac in Logantown, Georgia. This man hugged everyone as dudes do. No homo. No gay shit.

Skipjacks were swimming around in Mac's shit. Peter, my curly-haired jerk ex-client with green eyes, was sitting on a toilet that was on top of a shit wave that crashed near us.

Peter growled. "Dammit! Over a year later, and it happened again. Explosive diarrhea. Fuck me. I'm a zombie who has been radiated by nearby cell phone towers. OH AND I HAVE COVID-19!" he screamed as he remained on the toilet.

Joebear ate a piece of meatloaf before looking at him. "Dude, you're fucked up."

"Oh God. My long lost cousin's sister's brother's former college roommate almost had Covid a month ago. You're the first asshole who has it this month," Colonel Mac said. "Something tells me you're a swamp asshole."

"WHO IS HE TO YOU?!" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing sang randomly.

"Absolutely nobody," Colonel Mac said with a hearty laugh.

"What was the point of mentioning it then?" Megara asked as she threw her left hip to the side.

"The son'a bitch was a Democrat!" Colonel Mac said with a snort laugh.

"Really? I heard almost all Democrats had it," Peter said as he blinked.

"Yep. Only liberals have it," I said as I poked his right shoulder repeatedly.

"Oh fuck you, Xara!" Peter said as he rolled his eyes and poked me repeatedly. "Everything's political with you!"

Joebear ate a fish that was in Peter's shit wave. "What am I going to do about my balls?"

"I don't know, bae. You have swamp balls," I said.

"Swamp balls? What the fuck are those?" Joebear asked.

"They're like swamp ass. You have sweaty balls," I said.

Joebear stared at me with his bear brown eyes. "... Girl. You fucked up," he said.

Colonel Mac growled in agreement.

A random song from the 80s, "Hi! ho! Let's Go!" started playing in the swamp.

"Shut the. Fuck. Up. Shut the. Fuck. Up," Joebear sang along. "Let's stick our dicks in a blender and see what happens."

I laughed so hard I had a headache.

"Why not? I can't have sex when I have Covid. Might as well stick my dick in a blender and feed it to these fish," Peter said with a shrug.

The skipjacks immediately began to swirl around Peter while making goofy noises. They were hungry. And they had swamp ass.

"Fuck off. I was being facetious. And it's a fucking oven out here! It's almost as bad as when my old Ford Lincoln had no AC. Thank God that fucking car caught on fire," Peter spoke.

"That's nothing. I abuse my dick three times a day and have sex. And fuck that car indeed," Joebear said as he growled and started masturbating.

Paul the Goat bleated and had to excuse himself.

"There are too many penises and swamp asses in this story!" Colonel Mac shouted. "This is gay!"

Joebear growled loudly and realized that Colonel Mac was correct. "You're right, dude. I need sex!" Joebear screamed.

Everyone bleated except me. I was eating more vegetables. I needed to shower. I had swamp ass.

"Bae Whuhhh!!! Let me eat! Let me shower!" I shouted happily as I ate.

"Hurry up. I need to release seed. In fact, I need to eat, too. I am going to eat a sandwich!"

So Joebear took his sandwich and remaining piece of meatloaf and went in the woods to await me.

Colonel Mac tried to get out of this story, but he managed to tweak his right knee. "Oh fuck! I can't even get out of this sausage fest story! I'm fucked. Sigh!" he complained as his right leg was completely consumed by the swamp. It had swamp ass.

"Story of my life," Peter said with a giggle. "You would positively DIE if you knew half of the horrible shit I'VE gone through. Especially in the last three years. Holy Shit being around Xara is a curse!"

I giggled and ate the last bite of soup. Then, I walked over to fish out Colonel Mac's leg from swamp ass and patted his knee. "I'll give you the transcripts," I said to Colonel Mac as I poked the knee once.

"Feels good," Colonel Mac said. "Okay. Send the transcripts."

"Fuck you," Peter said as he folded his arms over his chest and glared at me with menacing green eyes.

"Haha. You're a dick, Peter," I said as I left the swamp.

Ted the Alligator then drained the swamp. Peter was going down a toilet while he remained on the toilet. Colonel Mac also was flushed down the toilet. Paul the Goat bleated, and Hollywood winnied as they were also flushed down Swamp Ass Mac's drain. Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing randomly sang in opera, "SWAMP ASS!!! MY ASS PASSES GAS" as the end credits to this story.

1 note · View note