Recently I found out where Josh Friedman gets his inspiration for the Terminator Chronicles series when I caught him masturbating into David Nutter’s skullcap. The proportions were staggering: for such a large man with such a small penis, he can produce a lot of jizz and crap. Anyway, he’s not been writing much recently – or decently, and I’ve been getting antsy over my lust for enormous cock in gymnastic situations.
I stopped by Thomas Dekker’s trailer at lunchtime and had him spread my ass checks like a hot dinner roll and drive his pork pipe into my tenderloin. “You must be used to trailers, huh? Treat me like your cyborg whore!” I ordered him as I did the splits on the sofa and got T-boned by his poop pusher. “Jesus,” he cried, “Don’t you ever shave this thing? Finding the hole’s harder than finding anyone who’s not mentally retarded during the story development meetings.” I screamed back something about pulse rifles in a 40-watt range as he ploughed my face into a week-old pizza leftover between the cushions in his sofa. “Spin around so I can see your face. I’m sick at looking at your driver’s license.”
We flipped around and he removed my padded bra. He was not too pleased about what he saw. “Shit girl, you been bitten by ants or something?” he demanded to know, while squeezing my nipples with some chopsticks from his sushi. “There are no breast implants in the future,” I replied while continuing to massage his lovestick with one hand and inserting it into my period piece. “So those guys in Serenity totally skull-fucked you? Your face is flatter than the ratings for that piece of shit,” he observed, noticing that my camel’s toe is the only contour on my entire body. “Hey John Connor,” I said, impressing him with my ability to keep in character, “grab that Terminator hand over there and finger my asshole with it. Wreck my asshole like I wrecked Firefly.”
While I was getting T-800’d in my spectacularly stain-free brown eye, Lena Headey walked in with stringy gloops of Richard T Jones’ protein-rich pee-alternative in her hair. Pissed that she was on her period, Richard had her suck the fart out of new guy who plays Chromartie while he degraded her MILF wig. He recently had her wear a Xerox copy of my flat face while titty-fucking her milk-makers and insisting she scream that he was the only black person in the FBI. He likes to call her “Warrior MILF” while seeing how many of her holes he can fill with Mexican gangbangers in a sexual version of Twister. They only cast him because Flava Flav was busy, so Lena’s been sucking out every last drop of his one-eyed badboy daily.
“Your cuntage is enormous,” Thomas grunted, pushing his pleasure seeker to hidden depths. “I think I just came on a script that someone lost in here.” After filling my inner sanctum with another pint of wang-dang doodle, Thomas threw me to the floor and went to see if there any interracial incest sites that he could use to post a threesome with Lena and Richard T Jones. As for me, when Fox cancels the show, I’m going to move in with Josh Friedman so he can urinate in my mouth every week instead of shitting on viewers.