As the pulsating beat of that watershed classic, "Disco Duck", permeated the cloying, smoky atmosphere of the roller disco, I paused briefly to adjust the cucumber inside my tight, gold, silk shorts. It had fallen lopsided to the left and my efforts to keep the fleshy fruit protruding straight forward were being constantly thwarted by the swaying of my hips to the funky disco beat.
Alas, this was not resulting in the sweaty orgy that I had hoped would commence in the back of my customized Chevy Van by 9 pm. Not even my offers of a free breast and or buttock massage were having any effect on the foxy ladies. Some of them even asked me why I constantly referred to myself in the third person...to which I always answered, "Because Jerry likes the name, Jerry, Baby! WOOOOOOO!" One chick even tried to remove the pantie hose from my head, claiming I was "That dickhead from the ladies' room at the drive in".
Perhaps I shouldn't have replaced the wheels of my roller skates with Libby's pudding cups. One of them burst open on the rink and splashed chocolate pudding everywhere, causing several people to slip and fall.
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