Oh hell yeah, back from a weekened of working my ass off, and thus preserving the sexy in my rear, as well as the heft in my wallet. My heft... Awe yeah, I know what you thought I was going to say. But I wouldnt mention how hefty that is. I am much to prim and proper for that sort of humor. You nasteh pervert, how dare yoo.
So yeah, I got home at about three thrity and viewed pronz (Adjot is so damn cool) on my limited data plan, and pretty much stayed up till the moon went away and the sun came to annoy me with it's delecious rays. I tell you, that job I just did left me tan as a Mexican, and I even was assumed to be one by many of my fellow workmen till I showed them how immpossible it is for a hispanic individual to make the sort of inane and honest comments on our boss. Of course, I was equally offensive towards a great many of my fellows, and of course I had succeeded in pissing off every one of them before the end of the job was even within sight. The greatest occasion for pissing off my fellow workingman was through taking photos of a particularly disheveld and hillbilly-esque individual I had the pleasure to view every now and then. He was so stereotypicaly trashy... But some how he managed to mesh together both the uneducated hillbilly look, and the silly wigger look. It was a very delightful spectacle to see, and it brought much lighthearted joking to many more aside from me and my primary button. Well anywaysies..
I took a whole bunch of pictures of the guy when he could clearly see me, and pointed and laughed while doing it. Aheehee, the bastard got real aggravated and started waving his arms and gesturing towards me and my primary compatriate in the humor (A fine man named Mr. C. Um... I guess it stands for ceeyunnt or something, I don't know). So yeah, pissing off the trashy locals in an area is always fun. Seeing them act like they would try anything with a couple of silly looking and vile angry-expressioned individuals like Mr. C. and I was amusing as well.
The whole job was setting up a great and large cheer/dance team competition. So there was a lot of fine ladies running around, showing off their rears to my fine and stand-outish self. I was not very engaged with admiring the finely toned rears of minors though; I was interested in those kinky and sexy looking skirts and tight shirt things they were wearing. So I snuck into the coach's area and stole a uniform ordering magazine from one, and looked at all the possibilities for kinky lady-wear I might be able to squeeze my skinny bottom into. The possibilities were endless.. Till I had a reality check from Mr C.
"Jiffy, I don't think you are going to fit into anything in that book, and still look sexy. Your junk is too big and would make things pretty vulgar."
I of course had not told anyone why I was regarding the magazine. The fact that he knew I was looking into some kinky crossdressing hada very flabergasting effect on me: was I really showing those thoughts on my face? And what do thoughts of cross dressing look like on a person's expression? Eh, doesnt matter. It is a silly thing though that this last thing was an afterhtought instead of the meat of the deliberations I had following his comment: How did he know I was marvelously gifted in girth and length? I guess I might have not noticed the effect that the fine cheerleader rear might of had upon my sheath-area. Oh well... I think I would look good in those sparse outfits anywaysies. My fine tail and thighs look hot in every clothing item imaginable.
The drive home was marvelous, I ate beans and vienna sausages, and eased my work swollen paws on my fine hot-thighs the whole car ride home. Thankfully, I had managed to hitch with a homie.. Being driven around with a friend is quite an endearing thing to me. Calm company in as relaxing environment as the interior of a vehicle is surely a fine source of deriving the much praised feeling of camaraderie. Sadly, the context itself is most unknown as such a wonderful way to silently grow comfortable around some one. Well... It seems friends would make any situation feel good; whether it is pissing off the savage natives, looking through a magazine to fulfill one's kinks, or merely sitting in a moving vehicle together for five to six hours... I think a friend makes everything seem much more pleasant. Eh, Immah go vore a dolphin ;3. Kudos to those who know the reference. Further happies now that all my friends know what I did this weekend.