BlameThePixel - I want my yotchit back...

Dear Mediator

I want my yotchit back, if you refuse to give it back, and you don't want to play jinga in the butt with me anymore, I'll take my strawberry toaster stroodle, and I'll shove it in your grocers freezer, after rubbing it on your cream cheese covered shoe laces. The albatross will massage your porpus with cheese, as the goat motingles with the cadavering porpertian... the bacon coverd sausage of my anal forsnooking bumoa... just to let you know i faked all my gibblet spelonking sneakers... the creamy wallet fillet my dark canal with drippings and gravy... for all i know it could be my last bagel bite in the bag... who knows ya know... it could just be a long shu when i get back... that mission was the greatest nissan i found under the couch... but i must tell you crabs are fun in the hat instand in my creamy gibblet filled crevis... by the way it was me that took the cookie from the cookie jar... if i every venture that far north again... i will make sure to pinch a loaf in your honor... the milky way is the best way to find out what your made of... i only wish i could have traveled in the beefcake more often... but when it comes to shrubberies, and you cant find jeff the Shrubberer... you take the taco and put it in the turkey...ca... ca... ca... boo lim chi... feno fina foga myoga... no zebras from 9 to 5... watch out for the dingle barry covered goats... i only have one last day to fly... ooby jewby canoobi... where was i agian... ah yes... in the butt... for those of you who whiff frequently... know that its only the end of the beginning... or could it be the beginning of the end??? if i was wearing trousers... and i put a snake in my shirt... would it be true that i still have no walnuts? to those without hard sausages, if you whip me right ill make sure it cannot bite... you will be slapped with the mighty shoe string of mmm...ba,ba, shin-nokia.... i find that if i tickle my asshole right before i unleash the dogs of war i can find the clicker in the highest order of my toilet tree... if you are nursing stay away from the thin of wheat mockers... do you bite your thumb at me sir? if so sir why do you bite your thumb sir? does it give you the right to spank my mongolian chumbs? if you see, do not hesitate to find the nearest skillet and get some more chives... it can all be summed up in 3 small phrases.... Clatoo, Varata, Nic*cough* *cough* there i said it, i think that the moonshine in the toilet is better then the cat with the bat... if you really want see your babysitter again... send 10,000 ruples... to the nearest door-to-door, door salesman... what would you do for a klondike bar? a handful of nuts is good with a cat full of nip... as i resign the presidency... i must admit that i want more powerchode under my podium... old gold zingers, private parts flingers, and jizz covered fingers... your barbie, so suck my ken... dear skipper i herd about your accident... they should have named your bob... for thats all you can do without arms and legs... Just the facts mam, just the facts... if your not supposed to drink and drive then why are there beer holders in the car? if i found a jewish assasign could i make him work for candles? he must find out the hard that hannika is not for peeps... so do the right thing and bring me the tv guide... mmm, mmm, better... betty bought some butter, but the butter betty bought was bitter... then betty bought some better butter then the bitter butter she bought before... but what does it all mean basil? if i had a shoe full of cotage cheese would you get on your japanese knees? i light my tv with flaming panties... if you ask me about my balls one more time... ill send you a set of forks from motel 6... the skrum-didly-ummtious-bar, is molding in the belfree... did someone light the crouch flowers? can you pinch a loaf in my lunchbox? my grandma told me, next time you get to make the bed... lesbain seagul please dont bring me down... im high as a kite under a steam roller... if i had 3 bannas and i took 1 banna, how many bannas would i have? WRONG! 3 bannas!... but if i shoved 2 in the hole... i would have a larger hat in my stew... selling stool samples... 1 apple a piece... 3 pears plus 4 oranges is green with me... i found a starfruit... do you think i could make a starburst with it? there is no cholestrol in my butt... but the mold is growing insanly sane... upon my apollo 13 barbra strisand edition of expert home crapper... please unstick the candle stick in mombo # 9... staples has a phone... but they have no spare set of digits... only on a usb can you sniff pcp di-g-it-ally... i like my mashed toes.. with gravy... it is croch-berry lickin good... if i mounted a goat in my den... would it be brighter then a smoke and pancake? perhaps the lock is only moldy in the day... but small and loose at night... find my goose and tell it that i have no use for a goose... but if it was my neighbors goose and it was that loose, i would have to say... holy moose... god damn mother of turkey... i just found the cream corn... maybe i should stop digging through my grandmas old jerk off material... do you know the of the greatest bong and blint salesman in Egypt?... i heard i can only guess what you know that i know...if you know more than you think that i know that you know then let me know... i wonder how far the house has pondered this question... who'ed ya guy went? if i turned into ToTO Faggins do you think i would have a hairy finker? Pubes are hard to cum past... since you dont know what is going to get you spanked... shag it rotten then party like its 1999... hold the billy-goats-gruff please... it just doesnt taste like a berry cream pie made with "i cant believe its not butter"... EEEBER goes the bare ass bear, as it chases the Ass-Pirates... und-da-gud-damn-stinkin-und-da-smellin hyghmer... The Amish Gangsta's paint "Ah-Men" over the bathroom stalls, in there overalls... As I sit her and watch on the pot covered in snot.

Dear Mediator

It's came to my attention that my Yotchit is not going to be returned. This makes me furious, and our game of Jinga, in which you so loved to play in the butt, will no longer occour, my giblets have died, and farming is rash, so I must pawn off Jinga, in which we loved to play so very much. But yet, threw giblet farming days have groan slim, and I must think back on of which we had, was a great relationship, but now is dead, like my giblets. I sit and ponder though, are dead giblets still okay to eat, yesh, they don't have that florishing poop-like color which was once there, and our friendship isn't florishing, like the anal sex we once shared daily, but is it okay to wonder, is it okay to think, how much wood could I really chuck, if I wasn't a woodchuck. Seriously now, it's always been pondered how much a wood chuck could chuck, but what out the guy who isn't a woodchuck, who just wants to try something new. Thats how I once felt with Anal Sex, you and I shared. It appears that my Yotchit will not be surendered, ever more, as I sit here in this harsh winter, which my testicles have now frozen to my leg. Sweat is normally the problem, but is nothing compared to the icy inferno that my frozen testicles now face. And to think, your mouth was the only thing that kept my testicles warm during the harsh winters. For now, I must sit here, freezing, but I must wonder, how is the tempature there, is it warm, is it cold, because, I'm still willing to warm your testicles with my mouth, but only for my yotchit back, my yotchit back, my yotchit back, that's all I ask, you know, un da gud damn smellinheimer, that was what we shared, and what we shared was, well, what we shared, and what we shared was not with what we shared with everyone else. I now must resign from your lover, but the offer still stands, return the yotchit, and our friendship will florish once more. For now, is one of the last days on earth for me. I've been diagnosed with Terminal Hemeroids, thank god they've been frozen, like the testicles of which I now possess.. But is it possible, just mabey, that we could share one last moment on the beach, possibly, even a good butt fucking, but don't worry... I'll bring the lube, I miss you so much. You joining the war and all, has seperated us, it's extremely uncalled for that you don't write back, I would like to see you write, I'm sure you've found a nice marine, which breaks my heart to think of... Possibly, mabey you'll invite me to meet him, and mabey a three-some will go down. But jesus man, why can't you write, are you out of toilet paper, I can mail you some, Fed Ex, of course. Now, I ask for my Yotchit once more, and now that I don't have my yotchit, I feel lonely, I ended up getting some Trojan "warm sensation" condoms, and I made love to my pillow for the first time sence before we met. Really now, if you're fucking something, shouldn't it already be warm... That's probably true, except that I don't have you anymore Caleb, so, my pillow, and my stuffed cow moofus is all I have. It's going to be a long winter, without you. I know you may be somewhat imputent, but I don't care, I love you, and I will always love you.

Dear Mediator

The docter said I've only got another week left, the terminal hemeroids are taking me over. I'm not sure if cucumber penetration could have caused it, but I didn't think putting a sweet pickle up there was a good idea. I'm sure you've already figured out why I'm writing. I want my yotchit, I'll put you in the will, for my yotchit and all of my possesions, you may have it all, I just wish to spend my last few days on earth with my yotchit. I'll even include the game of Jinga, in which we loved to play so very much, in the butt of course. You see, not only do I want my Yotchit, I want you. I want you to make love to me, from behind, right up my ass, no lubrication.. I know how you don't like lube, remember, you use to tell me, "It gives me a chapped dick"... Well, you not writing, really chaps my ass up. So I'll just tough it out, no lube, though it could be ever so painful, dealing with this god damn hemeroids. I'm hoping you'll respond to the letter, because I'd love to hear from you. You know the giblets we planted together last summer? They've died, and a part of my soul has died with them, it was the only thing that reminded me of you. So please, for god sakes, send me the yotchit. I'm quite aware that I resigned from your lover in the last letter, but I can't help myself, I must, I must be with you damnit... The docter perscriped me some hemeroid cream, but, it just reminds me of you, back when you use to lube up my asshole and goto work. Damn you were good at that, oh well. I ate one of the dead giblets, they didn't have the poop-like brownness that made them so desirable, but they wern't that bad, sort of tasted like when you'd pull your dick out of my ass, and put it in my mouth. I know in the past letters I haven't appolizied for my actions, so here goes. I'm very sorry, and I've changed my mind. You wanted to star in a scat video and I declined, well, I've changed my mind, I'm ready, and I'm willing. If you come back to me, I'll let you shit all over me, and we can record it, and share it with the world. Besides letters, our only form of communication is IRC, yet you just ignore and ban me, why is that Caleb, I love you, and I want you to shit on me, please respond, I fear if I contenue righting, I'll just cry myself to death...

Sincerely,
Your Eskimo Lover, Kyle

P.S. I still cannot believe it isn't butter.

<center>Dear Mediator</center>

I want my yotchit back, if you refuse to give it back, and you don't want to play jinga in the butt with me anymore, I'll take my strawberry toaster stroodle, and I'll shove it in your grocers freezer, after rubbing it on your cream cheese covered shoe laces. The albatross will massage your porpus with cheese, as the goat motingles with the cadavering porpertian... the bacon coverd sausage of my anal forsnooking bumoa... just to let you know i faked all my gibblet spelonking sneakers... the creamy wallet fillet my dark canal with drippings and gravy... for all i know it could be my last bagel bite in the bag... who knows ya know... it could just be a long shu when i get back... that mission was the greatest nissan i found under the couch... but i must tell you crabs are fun in the hat instand in my creamy gibblet filled crevis... by the way it was me that took the cookie from the cookie jar... if i every venture that far north again... i will make sure to pinch a loaf in your honor... the milky way is the best way to find out what your made of... i only wish i could have traveled in the beefcake more often... but when it comes to shrubberies, and you cant find jeff the Shrubberer... you take the taco and put it in the turkey...ca... ca... ca... boo lim chi... feno fina foga myoga... no zebras from 9 to 5... watch out for the dingle barry covered goats... i only have one last day to fly... ooby jewby canoobi... where was i agian... ah yes... in the butt... for those of you who whiff frequently... know that its only the end of the beginning... or could it be the beginning of the end??? if i was wearing trousers... and i put a snake in my shirt... would it be true that i still have no walnuts? to those without hard sausages, if you whip me right ill make sure it cannot bite... you will be slapped with the mighty shoe string of mmm...ba,ba, shin-nokia.... i find that if i tickle my asshole right before i unleash the dogs of war i can find the clicker in the highest order of my toilet tree... if you are nursing stay away from the thin of wheat mockers... do you bite your thumb at me sir? if so sir why do you bite your thumb sir? does it give you the right to spank my mongolian chumbs? if you see, do not hesitate to find the nearest skillet and get some more chives... it can all be summed up in 3 small phrases.... Clatoo, Varata, Nic*cough* *cough* there i said it, i think that the moonshine in the toilet is better then the cat with the bat... if you really want see your babysitter again... send 10,000 ruples... to the nearest door-to-door, door salesman... what would you do for a klondike bar? a handful of nuts is good with a cat full of nip... as i resign the presidency... i must admit that i want more powerchode under my podium... old gold zingers, private parts flingers, and jizz covered fingers... your barbie, so suck my ken... dear skipper i herd about your accident... they should have named your bob... for thats all you can do without arms and legs... Just the facts mam, just the facts... if your not supposed to drink and drive then why are there beer holders in the car? if i found a jewish assasign could i make him work for candles? he must find out the hard that hannika is not for peeps... so do the right thing and bring me the tv guide... mmm, mmm, better... betty bought some butter, but the butter betty bought was bitter... then betty bought some better butter then the bitter butter she bought before... but what does it all mean basil? if i had a shoe full of cotage cheese would you get on your japanese knees? i light my tv with flaming panties... if you ask me about my balls one more time... ill send you a set of forks from motel 6... the skrum-didly-ummtious-bar, is molding in the belfree... did someone light the crouch flowers? can you pinch a loaf in my lunchbox? my grandma told me, next time you get to make the bed... lesbain seagul please dont bring me down... im high as a kite under a steam roller... if i had 3 bannas and i took 1 banna, how many bannas would i have? WRONG! 3 bannas!... but if i shoved 2 in the hole... i would have a larger hat in my stew... selling stool samples... 1 apple a piece... 3 pears plus 4 oranges is green with me... i found a starfruit... do you think i could make a starburst with it? there is no cholestrol in my butt... but the mold is growing insanly sane... upon my apollo 13 barbra strisand edition of expert home crapper... please unstick the candle stick in mombo # 9... staples has a phone... but they have no spare set of digits... only on a usb can you sniff pcp di-g-it-ally... i like my mashed toes.. with gravy... it is croch-berry lickin good... if i mounted a goat in my den... would it be brighter then a smoke and pancake? perhaps the lock is only moldy in the day... but small and loose at night... find my goose and tell it that i have no use for a goose... but if it was my neighbors goose and it was that loose, i would have to say... holy moose... god damn mother of turkey... i just found the cream corn... maybe i should stop digging through my grandmas old jerk off material... do you know the of the greatest bong and blint salesman in Egypt?... i heard i can only guess what you know that i know...if you know more than you think that i know that you know then let me know... i wonder how far the house has pondered this question... who'ed ya guy went? if i turned into ToTO Faggins do you think i would have a hairy finker? Pubes are hard to cum past... since you dont know what is going to get you spanked... shag it rotten then party like its 1999... hold the billy-goats-gruff please... it just doesnt taste like a berry cream pie made with "i cant believe its not butter"... EEEBER!!!!! goes the bare ass bear, as it chases the Ass-Pirates... und-da-gud-damn-stinkin-und-da-smellin hyghmer... The Amish Gangsta's paint "Ah-Men" over the bathroom stalls, in there overalls... As I sit her and watch on the pot covered in snot.

<center>Dear Mediator</center>

It's came to my attention that my Yotchit is not going to be returned. This makes me furious, and our game of Jinga, in which you so loved to play in the butt, will no longer occour, my giblets have died, and farming is rash, so I must pawn off Jinga, in which we loved to play so very much. But yet, threw giblet farming days have groan slim, and I must think back on of which we had, was a great relationship, but now is dead, like my giblets. I sit and ponder though, are dead giblets still okay to eat, yesh, they don't have that florishing poop-like color which was once there, and our friendship isn't florishing, like the anal sex we once shared daily, but is it okay to wonder, is it okay to think, how much wood could I really chuck, if I wasn't a woodchuck. Seriously now, it's always been pondered how much a wood chuck could chuck, but what out the guy who isn't a woodchuck, who just wants to try something new. Thats how I once felt with Anal Sex, you and I shared. It appears that my Yotchit will not be surendered, ever more, as I sit here in this harsh winter, which my testicles have now frozen to my leg. Sweat is normally the problem, but is nothing compared to the icy inferno that my frozen testicles now face. And to think, your mouth was the only thing that kept my testicles warm during the harsh winters. For now, I must sit here, freezing, but I must wonder, how is the tempature there, is it warm, is it cold, because, I'm still willing to warm your testicles with my mouth, but only for my yotchit back, my yotchit back, my yotchit back, that's all I ask, you know, un da gud damn smellinheimer, that was what we shared, and what we shared was, well, what we shared, and what we shared was not with what we shared with everyone else. I now must resign from your lover, but the offer still stands, return the yotchit, and our friendship will florish once more. For now, is one of the last days on earth for me. I've been diagnosed with Terminal Hemeroids, thank god they've been frozen, like the testicles of which I now possess.. But is it possible, just mabey, that we could share one last moment on the beach, possibly, even a good butt fucking, but don't worry... I'll bring the lube, I miss you so much. You joining the war and all, has seperated us, it's extremely uncalled for that you don't write back, I would like to see you write, I'm sure you've found a nice marine, which breaks my heart to think of... Possibly, mabey you'll invite me to meet him, and mabey a three-some will go down. But jesus man, why can't you write, are you out of toilet paper, I can mail you some, Fed Ex, of course. Now, I ask for my Yotchit once more, and now that I don't have my yotchit, I feel lonely, I ended up getting some Trojan "warm sensation" condoms, and I made love to my pillow for the first time sence before we met. Really now, if you're fucking something, shouldn't it already be warm... That's probably true, except that I don't have you anymore Caleb, so, my pillow, and my stuffed cow moofus is all I have. It's going to be a long winter, without you. I know you may be somewhat imputent, but I don't care, I love you, and I will always love you.

<center>Dear Mediator</center>

The docter said I've only got another week left, the terminal hemeroids are taking me over. I'm not sure if cucumber penetration could have caused it, but I didn't think putting a sweet pickle up there was a good idea. I'm sure you've already figured out why I'm writing. I want my yotchit, I'll put you in the will, for my yotchit and all of my possesions, you may have it all, I just wish to spend my last few days on earth with my yotchit. I'll even include the game of Jinga, in which we loved to play so very much, in the butt of course. You see, not only do I want my Yotchit, I want you. I want you to make love to me, from behind, right up my ass, no lubrication.. I know how you don't like lube, remember, you use to tell me, "It gives me a chapped dick"... Well, you not writing, really chaps my ass up. So I'll just tough it out, no lube, though it could be ever so painful, dealing with this god damn hemeroids. I'm hoping you'll respond to the letter, because I'd love to hear from you. You know the giblets we planted together last summer? They've died, and a part of my soul has died with them, it was the only thing that reminded me of you. So please, for god sakes, send me the yotchit. I'm quite aware that I resigned from your lover in the last letter, but I can't help myself, I must, I must be with you damnit... The docter perscriped me some hemeroid cream, but, it just reminds me of you, back when you use to lube up my asshole and goto work. Damn you were good at that, oh well. I ate one of the dead giblets, they didn't have the poop-like brownness that made them so desirable, but they wern't that bad, sort of tasted like when you'd pull your dick out of my ass, and put it in my mouth. I know in the past letters I haven't appolizied for my actions, so here goes. I'm very sorry, and I've changed my mind. You wanted to star in a scat video and I declined, well, I've changed my mind, I'm ready, and I'm willing. If you come back to me, I'll let you shit all over me, and we can record it, and share it with the world. Besides letters, our only form of communication is IRC, yet you just ignore and ban me, why is that Caleb, I love you, and I want you to shit on me, please respond, I fear if I contenue righting, I'll just cry myself to death...

Sincerely, 
Your Eskimo Lover, Kyle

P.S. I still cannot believe it isn't butter.

________________
Whether you kill or get killed, it's just another way to kill time.

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