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December 19, 2006

12.19.06

On this day in history in 1998, President Bill Clinton was impeached.

Today's story should be about a peach.

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“I can assure you sere that his character is unimpeachable,” the man beside me assured me. “If he says it is true it is I can assure you.”

“You are trying to tell me that he saw a large octupus from the key in Brighton?”

“Oooh yees sir He did… my brother Ali was with him when they saw the beast. It was most horrifying to them both.”

“So did anyone take a picture? I queried knowing the answer.

“No they were too afraid. They told me they ran away from the pier.”
.
“Bugger,” I mumbled to myself. “Ah.”

Posted by: Andrew Ian Dodge at December 19, 2006 9:53 AM · Permalink

I split you open, right at the cleft, my thumbs pressing, gently, firmly, lifting and separating. Exposing your sweet, wet, fruitmeat to the cool breeze, and the warm breath from my mouth just inches away. My fingers tickle the flesh around the cleft, brushing the barely visible hairs. I start out at the bottom, licking up the dripping juices. You are perfectly ripe, just the right blend of soft and firm, give and resistance.

I press my lips against your wetness. I must have you. I sink my teeth in. I can resist no more.

Damn, that’s a fine peach!

Posted by: Mr. Parx at December 19, 2006 2:38 PM · Permalink

Oh, my! Ah do declare! [fans self furiously]

Posted by: David at December 19, 2006 2:54 PM · Permalink

Mr. Parx gave us all the vapors.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at December 19, 2006 3:47 PM · Permalink

Our annual orchard trips were something we both looked forward to.
Granny picked the coldest days so she could wear a bigger coat.
She’d pack her pockets full and waddle out. I’d over pay for my
peaches.

It was time again; I grabbed my coat and rushed to meet Granny.

She looked so pretty standing there in the orchard, so simple. Holding
her peck basket she waved to me, frantically. I waved and smiled….
But Granny wasn’t smiling. She buckled and collapsed. The pit of a
stolen peach lodged in her throat.

We buried her that way.
I hate peaches.

Posted by: kasac at December 19, 2006 5:11 PM · Permalink

The two brothers rode down the back hills and dirt roads like they couldn't be stopped. White trash sweat dripped from their skin as they both looked at each and smiled. No one knew this would happen to them. Hell, even they didn't. After all, who would have thought two country boys from no where could suddenly be on top of the music industry with fans over the entire world.

Three years since they made their mark on a scene and there looked like no coming back.

Then it hit them hard.

Eat a peach.

More like eat a truck.

Posted by: turtle at December 19, 2006 8:33 PM · Permalink