Erect Tent
by Stephen Philip Druce
Realising I'd
run out of condoms my girlfriend suggested I use
the camping tent for protection instead - "campulate
me" she said, "it's a combination of
copulating and camping".
I took the
tent from out of the garage and placed it over
her as she lay naked on the bed. Then in a
graceful motion I lowered myself to the area
where she was horizontally positioned, and I
prompted a spiritually physical encounter
involving a glorious union of fleshy bouncing -
"Shove
your salami up my drain!" she cried
passionately.
Then from a
raised aspect I descended into a rhythmical
action and engaged in a fusion of bodily
expression - a grinding melting pot of writhing
entwined magical oneness -
"stick
your baton up my corridor!" she cried
passionately.
Then I
tenderly enforced an unfettered, endearing
inseperability of burgeoning chemistry -
"ram your
hot dog up my pipe!" she cried passionately.
Then I
assertively stimulated an embracing attachment -
stylistically administering a smooth intermittent
thrusting in a titanic blaze of love fervour -
"stuff
your rod into my bucket!" she cried
passionately.
I stopped
after five minutes as she became enraged with
jealousy - "you love that tent more than you
love me" she said.
"No I don't"
I said, "it's about even".
She told me if
I felt that way I should marry the tent instead
of her.
"Well now
you're just being bloody ridiculous" I said.
ONE WEEK LATER
"I
Stephen, take you - camping tent, to be my lawful
wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day
forward, for better for worse, for richer for
poorer, in sickness and in picnic blanket, until
death do us tent peg, according to God's holy
tent peg extractor, and there to I give you my
groundsheet.
With this ring
I thee wed, with my sleeping bag I thee worship,
and with all my worldly goods I thee endow in the
name of the father, and of the son, and of the
holy tent peg - amen".
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