Big Dick Event

It is a dark Saturday night; sleeping peacefully I am suddenly jolted awake by my phone. Ah, a text message from my ex-husband, announcing that he has a bet and needs confirmation that he has a large cock. At 2:00 a.m., my first thought is; gee thanks, I had a bad day and now this. But ever the lady I begin to reply in the affirmative. Suddenly, I am ever the lady whose phone had died. Then I am ever the lady walking to my car in the middle of the night. I am strolling through the Texas night, pajama bottoms swishing and ponytail swaying in the breeze. I idle the car and the phone begins to recharge. As I listen to the “Rap of the Black Impresario” I start to imagine what this bet could be. Since he is carrying around the proof, I start to think of a group of drunken 25 to 35 year old guys sitting around making a bet as to who can have the most ex-girlfriends or lovers respond in the affirmative. I picture 100s of women all over Texas awaken by the same text. As I send my response to San Antonio, I think that I have done my little part in Texas Big Cock Event of 2006.

Now gentle readers, I am sure that you are interested in why my Saturday was not as pleasant as one might have hoped. Well, truth be known, I had a rather heated conversation with my last past love-interest (he does not like the term “ex”). He told me that he cared for me, and I told him that it was not apparent to me. This was answered with, you are just mad because I will not give you what you want. Of course, I need to know what it was that he thought that I wanted. His response – Me. Well at that point, the wind began to switch - the house to pitch; and suddenly the hinges started to unhitch. Just then the Witch - to satisfy an itch went flying on her broomstick, thumbing for a hitch. When my house landed, I crawled out and hundreds of little people began to sing “ding dong, the something is dead…..” Then there was more singing, dancing and tequila shots. But I digress. I tried to explain to him that I was not mad, I was sad and hurt. But that he crawled down from his pedestal, handed me his cape and said “I can’t handle this shit anymore”. After two months, I have picked myself up and started to brush myself off, and now to me he is just the guy whose new girlfriend has great tits and a nice pussy. He will never be the man that wears the cape again.