Great Day - Lonely Island

Orgasmic Axonal Connections From The Not So Distant Mind of WOMP's Past

"DEFINING BADASS" - Email from WOMP #2, Jesus Fingers -  sent Thursday November 6th, 2008 9:50 am

So there I was, enjoying the ball-tingling, soul-searing awesomeness that is called "a shower" by those who strive in vain to put into words such transcendence, when I started thinking about shit that is so fucking badass I want to eat my own head just thinking about thinking about it. In no particular order:

Womp

Womp

Womp (alright, in no particular order from here on out)

Ninjas

Tenacious D

Beasting on shit

Vats of primordial butter

Corona fused with property

Beer, really

Gunther

Pool Jets

(The combination of the above 2)

The legacy of Minh

Paki

Twitch

Plumb brandy

Balancing on shit

Fooseball

Tomato beer-pong

Kung Lee

Throwing shit at cars driving by

Anc-in'

The bus

Sweet ass techno

Ping pong

Filming any act of bodily excretion

Busting sweet as shit on the trampoline

Summers

Snowboarding

Captain womp

Perfect Dark and Croissants

Dragonforce

Chillspots

Clearing the six stair on rollerblades

700 sq foot banners

Scooters

Mike's Specials

The fact that there are only 3 people in the world badass enough to comprehend how badass these things are

Aight gotta go write more later

Keep mmska-ing and being all suffa-like - Mirek

"THY WOMP GOD" - Email from WOMP #2, Dunkless AKA Strenchy Pansce sent in reply to DEFINING BADASS - Thursday, November 6th 2008, at 1:26 pm

To such a  summary of existence, I bow. Womp is God. When the apocalypse comes, and fire slams my face into the dirt and I orgasm, God will reveal that his innermost being is indeed defined by Womp. And as(s) these things are Womp, he must look something like...

A Bigfoot, dressed like a ninja, no, rather, is a ninja, playing explosivo, while balance on, and beasting over a fence that is free standing on slick, buttered wiped surface, while drinking corona, key light, and profuse amounts of Plum Brandy, at the same time at the property, while listening to Ding Dong Song over loud fuckin speakers, and getting horny while a stream of water given substance out of thick (not thin) Womp filled air, slams into his mighty boner, while bowing to Minh (yes, Minh is the only substance Womp bows to. However, this estimation is reciprocated as Minh immediately bows back), while wearing the turban of Paki, and fucking twitch's loose cunt, while playing fooseball infused Tomato beer-pong, while scissor kicking grapes from the Kukla back yard at cars driving by, while turning in a receipt for 80 fat bucks at QFC, while spitting profundity at the driver of The Bus, and raving to sweet ass techno, and humping the shit out of pillows while listening to Dc Talk, while filming shit anti-penetrating his ass, while having matthew's loose asshole, mirek's loose vagina, and isaac's massive cock. 

Behold! Thy Womp God!

"A FUCKBUDDY NAMED PUSSYFOOT" - A Response - Written By WOMP #2, The Quick Tongue AKA The Hairless One AKA The Second Fastest Chugger In The World 

Well now. Please don't take this personally - but fuck you, you dumb fucking son of a bitch. The reason you sent this is beyond me, yet it shows that beyond any doubt, that if nothing else, you all are indeed truly morons.  I don't know if it was your mom having sex with your uncle and/or her father that left you as an inbred offspring, but they, like you, and perhaps anyone that has ever come in contact with you, deserve to die. You know how people always say you are special? I don't know how to say this nicely - buy you are clinically retarded. I really don't want to make fun of you. No, seriously. But – there's a point people reach that they become so impressively dumb that they, at best, deserve to die. Yes, you should die. It is because of you that the world is an awful place. I would rather eat a baby then breath the same air you befoul with your mere presence. I shudder to even think how ugly you must be. It's not a crime to be a transvestite. It's not something to be ashamed of. It's not even illegal to fuck your sheep, Pussyfoot. And yet, for some inexcusable reason, the fact that your so fucking dumb as to forward - god forbid, even believe - such an awful, sickening, and plain fucking dumb message makes me sick to the point that I am not only considering shooting you, myself, and the sick family members who decided upon creating the "thing" - I daresay creature, but that suggests that you deserve to live - that you are, but also your fuckbuddy sheep Pussyfoot. You are an epidemic - the epitome of stupidity. I wasn't sure whether of not I believed in God, but the fact that you exist beyond a doubt dictates the existence of Satan.  Do this world a favor, and die the most excruciatingly painful way you can manage. Do you eat shit? Do you fuck shit? Because beyond a reason of a doubt, you are, my friend, a stupid fucking piece of shit. 

"BINGE WHACKING" - A Tale of Making The Bald Man Cry...no...Sob, Profusely. 

Written by WOMP #2 Strenchy Pansce AKA Dunkless AKA The Mighty Fat One 

Date and Time Written: Before Date and Time Was Created by Mihn 

I awoke.

Perhaps it was because no wackage had been served for over a week, but nonetheless,  blood was still pumping from my invigorating dream and I could recall every second of it. Being the horny fuck that I am, I eagerly wacked, sighed, and passed out. Two hours later Smokey's barks woke me. Being upset with the fact that I was no longer entertained by the wonderful dreams so previously dreamt, I let my mind slip on over to what I had just done. After a few seconds I had wacked it again and fell back asleep. At about one o'clock I woke once again to Smokey's painfully sharp bark and realized I would not be able to fall back asleep. Having nothing to do left me with my idle brain once again which instantly jumped to the badass topic of fucking. My visions of rear entry got me popping and before I knew it, I grabbed my meat, and enjoyed another superb wacking session. (Duration: 0.3 minutes).  Regardless I was thoroughly satisfied and I took a much-needed shower.

Matthew and I played idley in the summer sun. I took my leave early Friday night (most likely tired from all the previous wackage) and I went home. Turning on the clicker I found my self deliciously engaged in a SNL skit involving Paula Abdul and no bra. Intrigued but unsatisfied with the quick ending the skit gave me, I quickly turned to my tight black friends from BET who, late at night, enjoy a good rap video with much a lady. Being un-cut and un-edited, I popped one and wacked it right then and there. By now it was close to 4 in the morning so, with a sigh, I took a piss and began to climb into my bed. But alas! I knew un-cut and un-edited videos were still being played on BET and I couldn't stand to just leave them with no one to be watched by. So, being it my duty, I flipped the TV back on literally seconds after my previous wack. There they were, back on the strip stage, my oh my those buns. Once again I found myself profusely wackin myself. With a very sore penis I blacked out.

This morning, Saturday, I woke somewhere around ten. Delirious, (and with a tender crotch) I tried to remember what adventures I had partaken in last night. I faintly recalled naked black women. Bam. I was gone. Just the prospect, naked, made me choke the chicken again. So I wacked it and still being tired from my late night, fell back asleep. A few hours went by (and some crack dreams that can be left for another tale) and I awoke around one thirty. And yes I don't know how it happened, but I wacked it again. Almost horrified from all the wacking I had done in the past twenty four hours I took a shower and tried to get on with my day.

I have come extremely close to wacking a few more times today when Matthew and I were at the Mexican restaurant (Hot MILF) and went to the 711 (Maxim).

And Mirek, that is my tale of Binge Wacking.

Kung Fury