I bet your dirty ass that Cookie Monster can eat the hell out of some snatch. Not that he would gobble box mind you, at least not on his usual television program. I doubt it has ever been a consideration for him, never even crossed his mind. He is a stone cold cookie eating monster machine after all and there is a huge fucking difference between devouring a plate of delicious cookies and feasting on some random furburger bonanza.
I am just saying that if he wanted to, it would be super on, it would be so fucking super ON dude. He would be all over that shit. If he was a gentleman and he cared if his lady climaxed then his lack of a tongue could be an issue for his woman. He would not have the necessary pinpoint precision available to him. It would be like an old man with no teeth trying to eat an apple real fast. That old man isn't getting anywhere.
As my completely awesome and totally pretend kick your goddamn ass karate teacher once told me in my imagination dojo, "Eating lady snatch is totally like punching a dude with totally fucking awesome karate. You punch through the target, your fist makes the hole."
Then I heard a thunderous gong and my imaginary karate master slowly took a bow inside my head and he said to me "Hellwagonson, you must eat all up on the snatchola like you want your head to come out the other side. You must eat your way through like digging a dirt hole to China. You must be like the nature of a crack addled Pac Man monster with lockjaw and a mouthful of honey and chunky peanut butter. You must eat the ghost."
It is like eating a ghost, thank you mystical subconcious kung fu master, that or trying to blow up a giant balloon. It's a hole, it is the absence of space. How do you eat nothing? That is some zen ass shit for you holmes. Open your fucking mouth, how the fuck you think you eat anything including some nothing you dumbass. Konichiwa and sayanora, yo soy Senor Fuckface.
I bet you use a vacuum to suck your weiner. If you don't, you should. I am not responsible for anything that happens if you do that. It might be awesome, you might lose your dick. I don't know what kind of vacuum you have, it could be called the Dickeater 3000. I have never done it, but your Grandmaw says it's awesome, how do you think she lost her dick?
I sincerely hope someone takes my advice and goes down on their lady like Cookie Monster, because that is going to be the worst night of two peoples lives. Someone will end the night with a hand up their ass or missing a tooth. This is becoming the second worst description of monster love and all time worst how to manual for painting the fence that I have ever heard. Who in the fuck is wrong with me. Me, that's who.
My imaginary awesome karate teacher who teaches awesome karate to my imagination also says that farts are the ghosts of turds that die inside your body. My asshole has been described as a graveyard many a time, and it has almost killed many a time, so this has to be true.
The more tragic the turd death, the louder the fart will be. If your turd dies in a fiery Tabasco and hot pepper fueled matchbox car crash in your large intestine, you will bust a super hot fart resoundingly two hours later in honor of its turdy demise. 21 guns out yo' buns salute motherfucker.
Yeah, that's right, farting just got all kinds of serious. Your ass should be playing taps. If your turd dies of old age, it comes out in a soft painfully pitiful whisper and climbs slowly up the crack of your ass whispering its way to heaven. Old dead turd farts have no glory, they sneak out in silent shame.
So, do what I do. The ghost of my imaginary ass beatin' karate teacher instructs you to bow down when you fart. Pay your respects to your own dead shit, plus bending over makes it louder and gets skidmarks all on your gi.
Now, back to the monster box lunch. I imagine that it would be distracting for the woman bearing the brunt of Cookie Monster's beaver eating fury to hear all of that "Nom, nom, nom, yum, me eat pussy, aaarrrgh yum num num." What woman is going to be able to get her rocks off hearing all of that nonsense. Plus them googly eyes have got to throw you off, even if he isn't looking at you, he's looking at you.
Just like Jesus or Santa Claus, Cookie Monster is always watching, even when he's cold eatin' your box.
Realistically speaking, Cookie Monster's mouth does kind of resemble some old and sick and worked over blue haired gash. An ol' blue hair's gaper. That being said, I bet that fuckin' monster could pull some high end tail if he tried. He is The Fucking Cookie Monster after all.
Out of all of the gang on the Street, he is the only one who has a rough side. He might have a real life outside of that show, how in the hell would you know. It's not like you run in famous circles and go to high end restaurants where the stars dine and recline. Anybody can put on that act like they are a total saintly goofball and be nice and teach kids to spell C words and shit, but his monster ass wants to get paid and laid just like the rest of us. Cookies ain't free motherfucker, especially ones as big as the goddamn moon. He's earning that shit and we are all buying his act.
There is a dark side to him. He has a total lack of self control, he's a bit dangerous and hella famous, and shallow chicks dig the bad boy with money. You know he is getting all kinds of ass. He just rolls up on a girl at the bar....
"Me want PUSSY!!!!"
"Sir, you've got a fist up your ass."
"You ass next. P is for Pussy, that good enough for me. Oh, pussy, pussy, pussy start with P. Now sprinkle some chocolate chips on that shit and I'll get to work."
You are probably thinking that I am straight fucked up, and I'm really not. I just get caught up in my imagination, which is fun as shit. I know none of it is going to happen, which really is a shame. You know what does happen though, people dress up in giant animal costumes so much they have a convention for it. Wearing a dog costume and having someone tug you off while you bark at the mailman is totally normal for thousands of people. That is their reality, not my imagination.
Be my guest though, if you want to, please go ahead and think that I am the crazy one. Someday you are going to go out on a wonderful date with someone you think is stable and amazing. Then they are going to leave the room to put on something more comfortable and sexy. You get excited, they might just be the one.
Then they come back dressed as a chihuahua with lady tits and man balls. Why are they holding a pooper scooper and a muzzle? Cookie Monster sounds great about now.
Hellwagon.
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