Lola, Part 72

Posted on 5:19 PM by Tony Spunk

To the person who came here looking for a “spunk receptacle” I sure hope you found what you were looking for. You know, elsewhere.

Talking of spunk receptacles, I had lunch with my aunt Lola today. Aw don’t look at me like that, Lola’s a whore, you know it and I know it. And she sure knows it.

I got back from L.A. last night (more about that another day – it’s worth waiting for I promise) and Lola practically begged me to buy her lunch so I knew something was amiss. I’m the only family member she can talk to about anything. See I’m a man of the world. For some reason this makes her blurt out the most ridiculously nauseating stuff that makes me want to bleach my memory afterwards. I could feel it coming.

“It’s my flower.” she whispered, as we waited to be seated in the busy “Pig & Whistle”. “Damn thing’s infected!”

Now that right there should have been a clue that I should have had a “previous engagement” I’d forgotten about suddenly come to light and hot tailed it out of there, pronto. Because “flower” is the word Lola uses for her lady parts. Her pussy. Flower’s sort of an ironically delicate word for it in my opinion because Lola’s pussy’s seen more action than Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I was kind of worried what was coming. Luckily I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Son,” she said when we’d sat down and were awaiting our order. “Son, I found crabs in my flower and I panicked and doused ‘em with Windex.” Lola said.

Allow me to let that sink in for a minute. Lola found crabs in her lady region and sprayed the fuckers with Windex.

“Windex?” I finally said weakly. “What the shit, Lola? You need to blast those fuckers out, not shine the shit out of them.”

“Well the fuckin’ Febreeze didn’t do nothin’” she growled. “Windex was all else I had.”

I tried desperately to erase the mental image of my aunt Febreezing the hell out of her muff.

“Did it work?” I asked, already afraid of the answer.

“Did it sweet shittin’ Jesus!” she said angrily. “Made me itch like a motherfucker. I’m red raw from scratching that dang thing. Feel like my crotch got pounded by fire ants!”

I sort of lost my appetite.

“I partied with an entire varsity football team one time” Lola said later, while picking at some English style fish and chips. “And even after that I could walk better than I can today.”

So welcome to my family. We exude classy.