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| | Is a baller baller like no other. | | Is a baller baller like no other. |
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| − | The night was moist. It was as he sat alone in bed in nothing but his underwear that Oscar first realized how trivial his life was. Things needed to change. Taking his weiner out of the jar of peanut butter, he prepared for his journey. Tonight he would quest for meaning, for value in his pitiful little life. | + | The night was moist. It was as he sat alone in bed in nothing but his underwear that Oscar first realized how wonderful his life was. Things needed to change. |
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| − | "What's up," asked the porter house steak that he lived with.
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| − | "Nothing! Leave me alone, I hate you!" Oscar ran out of the room, tears streaming from his face, peanut butter falling from his schnitzel. Too upset to care, he continued his emotional sprint outside into the street. He didn't care where he went, it just had to be away.
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| − | As he ran, Oscar began to get his emotions in check. He realized that he had no idea where he was. Taking stock of his surroundings he noticed a sex shop right across the street from him. Its neon sign glowed an obnoxious pink that reminded Oscar of his strong prepubescent emotions. Intrigued, he entered, not knowing what to expect.
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| − | Bright fluorescent lights burned into his retinas. A lone ceiling fan whirred quietly in the center of the large room. To his left was the checkout counter. In the glass were what appeared to be knives, chains, and other tools for sadomasochism. Not his cup of tea. Oscar preferred toys he could grow an emotional connection with. To the right was wall of dildos, much more relevant to his interests. Suddenly, a flash of red caught his eye. There, hidden behind all generic fleshy dildos, was the most glorious sight Oscar had ever seen in his young life. A big, beautiful, sleek, red dildo. It was perfect. He stumbled towards it, still naked, arms outstretched grasping in need for this new solution to all his feelings of dissatisfaction. As his hand closed around the ball sack, he felt it yanked from his grasp. There next to him was a woman. She stared at him, then down at Oscar's PB penis.
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| − | "And you are..." she began.
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| − | "Oscar."
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| − | "Well Oscar, your meyer-weiner is hanging out, and it seems to be covered in what appears to be," she reached down for a sample taste, "peanut butter."
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| − | "This is my dildo. I found it first, please let me have it," Oscar pleaded, groveling on the ground.
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| − | "Let's share!"
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| − | "Okay!" yelled Oscar. "It should be fun, HAHA!"
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| − | THE END
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| − | Look at this picture for evidence!
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| − | https://plus.google.com/photos/115392915924277757785/albums/5876246388934321585?authkey=CJqso82AvYjZBw
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A man of science with a small stature but a huge personality that makes up for his inability to reach the cookies on the top shelf.
Is a baller baller like no other.
The night was moist. It was as he sat alone in bed in nothing but his underwear that Oscar first realized how wonderful his life was. Things needed to change.
