Beautiful White Chocolate. No wonder the hot kayaker girl crowd goes for you! Let me try:
My raft is like White Chocolate, it's a little bit too small
My raft is like White Chocolate, except it doesn't hang out at the mall
My raft is like White Chocolate, the ladies love it and don't know why
My raft is like White Chocolate, it makes me laugh until I cry
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"You drown not by falling into a river, but by staying submerged in it."
-Paulo Coelho
A new reality show based upon weird stories of desperate kayakers with a twist of the Twilight Zone for those half-baked and those about to bake, yes we salute you.
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And the Lord said, let there be whitewater. So on Friday, the 13th day of the month....
...my penis is like a river
that will never end
my penis is like a dove
with a bootyful message to send...
WOW, that sure was special.
I was really sad my ipod broke on the way down to Salida, but W.C. saved the trip. I gave him so much to rap about; there was never a moment of silence.
I know everyone( especally CasperMike and DurangoSteve) thinks this dude is a Dbag and I have to admit, I was even a little shocked by how W.C. rolls. His baby pink “I love boobs” shirt, red headband and short cut off jeans confused, even a blonde. I figured he had to be compensating for something especially when he pulled up in a large, elevated truck with a ball sack hanging from his hitch. It wasn’t until our 3rd heart to heart that he explained to me how his confidence was shriveled at the early age of 28 when a female got down on her knees for the first time, unzipped his pants, and then laughed at him uncontrollably until she was blue in the face. This scared poor little W.C. for years.
The poem he wrote up here was a small step to his public recovery. I am shocked that the boating community is so harsh to the beginners of the sport. Last night in an attempt to educate my fuzzy bar of chocolate, I took out the Bible and the New Testament and read to him the fantastic stories of our elders; all the great laughs, cries, and carnage. I explained to him (I am shocked no one has done this yet) that if the section is in the book, it has probably already been run and if the section is not in the book, it has probably already been run. His tears dried up as I told him that one day he will find that first D, probably in a state like Okalahoma or Nebraska, one that would normally be off the boating radar. I left him on the couch with the precious books and some warm milk. He stared at the pictures all night long; he never knew someone could look so cool.
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"I would lick it up if it weren't all glassified and on concrete"
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