The Book of George

“Get a Life“

One morning I get up, get out of bed, get showered, get some breakfast, and get to thinkin’, “I’m not gettin’ any.”  I get the urge to get some nookie, and get an idea.  So I get dressed, get in my car, and get on the freeway.

When I get downtown, I get a few beers, get a buzz, and get lucky.  I get a glimpse of a fine-looking woman.  I get her a drink, get her talking, and we get acquainted.  So I get up my courage and get her to agree to get a room.

We get outta there, get some booze, get in a taxi, and get a hotel.

We get in the room, and get comfortable, and and I’m gettin’ excited ’cause I’m gonna get in her pants.  So we get undressed, get in bed, and get started.  And I’m gettin’ hot ’cause she’s gettin’ horny.  She wants to get down, and I wanna get my rocks off.  I wanna get it up, get in on, get off, and get out.

And it starts gettin’ real good.  But then I get thinking, “Suppose I get the clap?  If I get the clap, I’ll have to get shots.  Might get worse.  Could get AIDS.  Shoulda got rubbers.”

Now I get paranoid.  Get a bit crazy.  Get a bit scared.  Gotta get a grip.

Then it gets worse  Suppose she gets pregnant?  Will she get an abortion?  She might wanna get married.  I can’t get involved.  If I gotta get married, I gotta get her a ring.  How do I get it?  I’d have to get credit.  Or get hold of some money!

That means gettin’ a job.  Or gettin’ a gun.  And a getaway car.  But suppose I get caught?  Get busted by the cops.  Get thrown in jail!  Gotta get help.  Get a good lawyer.  Get out on bail.

No.  I gotta get serious.  Get it together.  Get with the program.  Get me a break, get me a job.  Get a promotion, get a nice raise, get a new house, and get some respect.  But if I get all of that, I can’t get real cocky.  Might get someone mad who’d get on my case, get me in trouble, and then I’d get fired.

Then I’d get mad, maybe get violent, get kicked outta work.   Then get discouraged, start to get desperate, get hold of some drugs, get loaded, get hooked, and get sick.  Get behind in my rent, get evicted, get thrown on the street.

Maybe get mugged, get beaten, get injured, get hospitalized, get operated on, get a blood clot, get a heart attack, get the last rites, get a stroke, get a flat line, get a trip to the graveyard, and get buried in the field.

So get this.  You gotta get smart, and gotta get real.  Get serious.  Get home, get undressed, get in bed, get some sleep.  Or you might just get fucked.  Get me?

“A Few Random Sexual Ejaculations“

In spite of all the wonderfully entertaining sex crimes we enjoy in this country, Americans are still a prudish lot.  So now we’ve decided to use the word gender when referring to a person’s sex.  Gender has been borrowed from linguistics, and will soon include other meanings: “I think he’s perverted, Stan.  He told me he had gender with a woodchuck.”  “He’s as ugly as shit, Gloria, but the gender is strangely dark and quite intense.”  “Pull up your pants, Russell.  I told you anal gender is high-risk fun!”  And, of course, that once-exciting 1960′s tripod of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll has been completely euphemized.  Now it’s, “gender, controlled substances, and alternative rock.”

If a movie is “R-rated,” it means that if you’re under seventeen, you have to see it with an adult:

“What’s he doing, Dad?”
“He’s fucking her, son.”

Sex Quiz For Men:
1. Have you ever been walking on the street toward three great-looking women who all have fabulous tits, and you don’t know which set of tits to stare at?  And you only have a few seconds to decide?  Thank God you can at least study their asses while they’re walking away.

2. Did you ever see a really attractive mannequin in a department store, and you think maybe you’d like to fuck her?  But you know you can’t, so you try to sneak a quick look at her crotch?  And you don’t worry about anyone seeing you, because they would never believe what you’re thinking?  Remember, ladies, the thought most often coursing through a man’s mind is, “Boy, I’d sure like to fuck that.”

3. Have you ever been talking to a married couple you just met, and the woman has really great tits?  And you’re dying to get a really long look at them, but you can’t even take a quick glance, because her husband is staring right at you?  Then, when he finally looks away for an instant, do you immediately look straight at her tits, regardless of whether or not it makes her uncomfortable?

News note: On TV recently, a guy was complaining that he was sexually “abused” by a female teacher when he was a boy.  He said she touched him and made him touch her in their private parts.  Yeah?  So?  Where’s the abuse?  Maybe I’m twisted or something, but as a child, I would’ve been willing to kill for this kind of special attention.  I’d have had my hand in the air all day long, “Teacher!  I need some more of that special help!”  It would have really lent a stimulating new perspective to the idea of staying after school.

I’m glad I don’t have any weird sexual fetishes.  It’s hard enough just getting laid, can you imagine cruising the bars searching for a submissive, albino rubber freak who wants you to throw cantaloupes at his ass and shit on his chest?

I will, however, admit to being fascinated by a strange new perversion I’ve heard of.  It’s called S & W.  Apparently just as you’re about to come, your partner vomits root beer on you.