This site is a testament to not only my life but to the insanity of society. Dive into Psycho Carnival and you'll find tragicomic personal stories, wild yet honest rants, a little depravity, videos and a buttload of other goodies.

This site also contains adult like humor and ideas that could make you think. Consider yourself warned!

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Toadie in "Haunted Bordello" (Final Chapter)

If you haven't read the first two installments of this enchanting tale, click here for Part One and here for Part Two.

The spirit of "Bent Joe" Paulson stepped menacingly toward Toadie, Val and the ghost, Annie, interrupting their lovemaking.

Wide-eyed, Toadie stuttered until he could finally say, "Toadie may be frightened to the point of shitting himself silly right now... but Toadie can't help to wonder... Why do they call you "Bent Joe?"

Annie warned, "Don't rile up his tail feathers, Mr. Toadie!"

The cowboy ghost dropped his pants and pointed to his crooked ghostly penis.

"Bent Joe" growled, "This is why, you mush-headed, numb-nutted dimwit! You satisfied now?"

Toadie replied, "Toadie thinks you have a bad case of acute dicklopsidedness."

Snarling, the ghost got up into Toadie's face and said, "You sayin' I have a cute dick?"

The sound of a car pulling up, down below, cut through the dead silence of the night.

"Bent Joe" Paulson pulled up his pants, cocked his head with a curious expression on his face and said, "I sense one of my kinfolk is here."

What the cowboy ghost was sensing was the sudden arrival of his great-great grandson, Henry Paulson. Paulson had, coincidentally, turned into the old west town as a means of escape.

Henry Paulson had made a lot of people angry with his latest televised interview because of his statements concerning why he thought people of the Occupy Movement were so angry. He was completely off the mark with his remarks. An Occupy group had caught sight of Paulson, outside the studio after his interview and wanted to share their opinions with him.

Instead of being bothered further with any more questions or accusations, Paulson had waved them off before saying, "Go get a job instead of complaining. It's your fault that you're poor."

With that said, the group ran towards him, shaking their fists and shouting obscenities. The former CEO of Goldman Sachs got into his limousine, told his driver to start the car and leave the city, immediately.

Wanting to avoid the peasants and miscreants of the area, altogether, Paulson instructed his chauffeur to take him on a few quiet desert roads for a bit of peace and untroubled thinking. While the chauffer drove Paulson on a few mostly desolate roads, the wealthy man poured himself glass after glass of expensive cognac until finally, they arrived at a ghost town.

Looking out the window, the old man nervously searched the area around them. He thought he saw a pair of glowing eyes peering over the saloon doors of an old bordello. Within a few seconds, they disappeared.

Then the limo's engine began sputtering.

"What's wrong with the car?" asked Paulson.

The driver shrugged and said, "I don't know, sir. It was given a tune up not long ago."

That's when the limousine stopped running, completely. The driver and Paulson immediately pulled out their cell phones. Neither of them were working. Suddenly, all the lights and the electronics in the car went out. They were sitting in near darkness with only the moonlight shining dimly around them.

Paulson's chauffeur, Riley, said, "Sir, I'm going to have a look around and see if I can find a phone or something we can use."

Riley got out of the car. Not wanting to be left alone, Paulson opened the car door and joined his driver. "Hold on," said the old man, "Another pair of eyes may help."

After finding out the flashlights in the limousine didn't work, Riley and Paulson started walking. The crunch of their footfalls and their breathing were the only sounds that they heard. And then a voice came from the nearby saloon.

"What are you looking for?"

At first, Paulson thought he might be imagining the voice- until he saw that it was obvious that Riley had heard it, as well.

Riley, unafraid, walked up to the doors of the saloon asked, "Who's in here?"

Receiving no answers, Riley pushed open the swinging doors of the saloon. The chauffeur walked inside. Paulson stayed close behind him. They were at the bar when a fiery orb appeared from nowhere. The orb quickly transformed into a recognizable human form- at least, to Paulson, it was recognizable.

The ghost said, "The word is, is that you've been an ornery, inconsiderate sonabitch, my great-great grandson."

Paulson placed his hand on his head. He was feeling faint. Perspiration, with traces of blood, ran down his face and neck until it soaked into the collar of his once neatly pressed dress shirt.

After gathering the strength and courage to speak, Paulson said, "You're my great-great grandfather. How can this be?"

Before the ghost could reply to his kinfolk's inquiry, Toadie and Valerie came down the steps. Annie floated down and met them. All eyes were fixated on "Bent Joe" until Valerie and her seemingly dim-witted friend, Toadie, recognized the old man in the business suit.

Toadie laughed and felt a thunderous cloud of methane pop out of his anus. The uncomfortable silence had been shattered by the awkward fart and caused everyone to turn toward Toadie. Everyone, including "Bent Joe".

Toadie pointed at Paulson and stated, "Toadie agrees with "Bent Joe". You are a sonafabitch."

Paulson was taken aback by the slightly retarded man and his words.

Toadie continued, "Don't act confused or startled, you fucking turd! You, Ben Bernanke, Alan Greenspan and the rest of the major guilty players in the great debacle that is our current Great Recession, allowed the housing bubble to expand to the point of exploding in everyone's faces. And instead of bailing out homeowners, they bailed out greedy bankers, causing events to be triggered that very quickly caused our economy to go into a horrible downward spiral. Because of people like you, who had a major part in keeping up the deregulation of the financial industry, we are experiencing the residual effects of not only your greed but your inconsideration of the people in this country. Meanwhile, you stay wealthy, get wealthier, manipulate the media, the government and generally tell the vast majority of the public to go fuck themselves and make out like they are the ones who are the criminals. All you care about is money, power and manipulation. The majority of people in this country, who are the neglected... who are protesting, meanwhile, are arrested... or worse."

"Bent Joe" pushed at Paulson's chest, crying out, "You're nothin' but a piece of snobby, arrogant, thievin' shit!"

Henry Paulson stumbled back and stuck his foot into an old spittoon. Panicking, Paulson felt the spittoon latch onto his foot, pressing the leather of his shoe against flesh and bone. Unbeknownst to the living folks inside the saloon, the spittoon was possessed by the spirit of Toadie's great-great grandfather, Gregory McKelly.

The spittoon laughed when Paulson fell on his ass. A sharp pain followed, causing the old man to scream in agony. It felt like something had abruptly fractured or broke near his ass. Riley pulled the spittoon off of his employer's foot and tossed it to the side. A face appeared on the spittoon as it shook and rattled across the room. The spittoon emitted an eerie bale of laughter as it skittered and rolled back and forth across the old wooden floor.

Riley freaked out and ran out of the saloon, leaving the old man to fend for himself. Paulson crawled out the door like an injured cockroach. His chauffeur got into the car and tried starting the car. Fortunately, it started. Riley looked over at Henry Paulson, saluted him and promptly left the haunted ghost town, spinning his wheels and leaving his employer in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes.

"Wait for me!" commanded the old man, as he writhed in pain, finally making it out of the saloon.

Toadie, Val and Annie laughed at the old man, turned their backs and headed upstairs for a sprightly human/ghost orgy. As far as they were concerned, the show was over and there was nothing more to say. They opened the door to the room upstairs and very quickly got busy.

The spirit of Paulson's great-great grandfather remained for a few moments, staring at Paulson's quivering form and then shook his head before stating, "You only have yourself to blame, son."

And then he vanished, entirely.

The next day, Toadie and Valerie thanked Annie for the great time. When they left the saloon, the engaged couple stepped over Paulson, who was still moaning and continued to walk out of the old western town, hoping that someone would eventually come down the highway and offer them a ride. Luckily, they were found and taken back to a town where they could rent a car and continue their travels westward.

And this concludes our story, folks. Have a dandy weekend!

For more Tales of the Toadie, click on any or all of these fine links:

Friday, November 4, 2011

Toadie in "Haunted Bordello" (Part 2)

Click right here, folks, in order to read the first part of this classic type of ultra fine and sophisticated American Literature so you can make sense of the whole story. I wouldn't want you to be "lost in the woods", so to speak. Or would I? Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Upon closer inspection, the slightly mentally challenged Toadie realized the people in the old photograph were his great-great grandparents, Gregory McKelly and Donna Mae McKelly. Toadie remembered seeing similar photos of his great-great grandparents in a family album when he was a kid. His sweet Auntie Kay had told him that "his great-great grandparents were outlaws of the Old West and were fond of drinkin', raising a lil' hell and robbin' banks- but that they were beloved by many because of their good-natured sense of humor and the fact that they gave a lot of their money away."

While looking intently at the photo, the characters in the photo mysteriously began to move. Instead of his late grandfather pointing his gun upward, he was dropping his arm downward, allowing the gun to point to the side. Then, surprisingly, the photo began to change in varying colors. But what was most unnerving, was that the frame around the photo changed, as well, with the indented pattern in the wood, unraveling, curling into twisted flowers, then returning back into it's original form.

Toadie jumped back, tripping over an old brass spittoon and screamed. The photograph immediately returned to it's original state, which was followed by laughter echoing from the rooms upstairs. These were the same rooms where prostitutes cheerfully entertained patrons of the saloons by humping them until their semen had been thoroughly depleted from their scrotal sac.

Toadie stuttered a bit, expelled a long, awkward fart and finally was able to blurt out, "Toadie needs Valerie to come here!"

When Valerie joined him, Toadie explained what he had seen and that the people in the photograph were his great-great grandparents.

Startled, Valerie held Toadie tight and said, "That photo is remarkably clear for how old it is. It's like it was taken just a year ago."

Toadie said, nervously, "Toadie's afraid. Will you comfort Toadie by giving him head, please?"

Suddenly, a blonde haired woman, garbed in a black dress, was sitting on an old piano across the saloon. She had appeared from a gathering mist and, almost immediately, began to speak.

"If she doesn't suck the venom from your snake, Sugar Buns, I would be willing to give it a try."

Frozen with fright, Toadie and Valerie stared at the ghost, feeling helpless.

The ghost said, "The name's Annie and pleasure is my business."

She smiled, seductively and drifted over to where the engaged couple were standing.

Annie warned, "If you know what's good for you, you'll head on upstairs before "Bent Joe" Paulson comes in here. He doesn't like strangers in HIS TOWN."

Valerie paused anxiously, before inquiring, "Who's Bent Joe?"

The ghost circled around the brunette and whispered, "He's the most evil bastard you NEVER wanna lay eyes on, sweetie. He'll tear you apart, whether you want it or not."

Annie turned to Toadie and placed her cold hand on the crotch of his pants. Even though he was scared, Toadie still sported wood and drooled a bit. His "snake" drooled a bit, too.

Annie remarked, "Besides, if you two follow me upstairs, I promise you won't be bored." She giggled at that and gave Val a little peck on the cheek.

Without warning, the saloon doors were thrown open. A glowing orb passed through the entrance. It seemed to be burning with red flames. Annie, Val and Toadie could feel the hostility emanating from it.

"Time to go," warned Annie.

Toadie and Val quickly followed the ghost upstairs into one of the rooms. When they were inside, the old wooden door slammed shut.

Toadie and Valerie stared at each other, shaking. Toadie said, "Toadie doesn't see the hot blonde anymore."

Valerie gave him a stern look. "So you think she's hot, huh?"

Toadie pointed to his dick and said, "The penis doesn't lie." And then he laughed, scratched his ass and plopped onto the bed like a big sack of creamy, maggot-infested potatoes.

A few quiet moments passed until Valerie, aroused by the sight of Toadie's meaty totem pole, joined Toadie on the other side of the bed. She looked out the window and said, "Do you think we'll be okay in here for awhile?"

Toadie saw how the moonlight reflected on Valerie's face and allowed his gaze to travel down to the outline of her soft, firm breasts beneath her shirt. He imagined sucking on her tits and blowing his wad on them. But not vice versa, of course. Toadie would think that to be uncouth.

"Toadie loves you," said Toadie, "Toadie won't let anything happen to you."

Valerie leaned over, kissed her fiancee gently on the lips and complimented him. "You're so romantic, Toadie"

Toadie said, "Can Toadie fuck you in the ass now?"

No longer being able to hold herself back from the suave gentleman, Valerie took off her clothes. Toadie hurriedly removed his clothes, as well. Moments afterwards, the engaged couple were happily fornicating.

And then a mist appeared next to them. Annie made herself visible. Without asking if she could join in, she began rubbing Valerie's wet, glistening love button. At first, the ghost's hand was cold but then it quickly warmed up. Valerie moaned, realizing the ghost was back in their presence and was, nevertheless, enjoying her touch. Annie then turned her attention to Toadie, pulling his walloping prick from Valerie's wide open beaver gobbler and sucking it with terrific fervor.

Toadie shouted, "Hurrah!"

Further pleasures were exhibited and felt throughout the night. Bodily fluids were exchanged. Annie the ghost rode Toadie like a crazed, horny baboon. At one point, Valerie lapped at Annie's ghostly nips. And so on.

Abruptly, a fiery orb passed through the door and entered the room. Val, Toadie and Annie hadn't noticed. The orb slowly transformed into the spirit of "Bent Joe" Paulson. The cowboy was seething with rage as he shook his fists and screamed, "I'll teach you!"

Stay tuned for Part 3, the last chapter to this story, next time. Hope you have a great weekend!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Toadie in "Haunted Bordello" (Part 1)

Sure, I'm a little late with this Halloweenish type post entry... but do I care? Fuck no! My advice is to sit back, read this fine wholesome tale of insanity and mayhem and hold tight.

But before you jump in with both feet, you may want to check out this link and this link to bring you up to speed with this post, Toadie's latest adventure.

Toadie, a semi-retarded man and his girlfriend, Valerie, decided to move in together when they got back to Chicago after their "Christmas Trip" adventure. No longer was the 34 year old man under the care of his friends, Maggie and Rufus, though they did go to Valerie's apartment to see how he was doing every so often. They were, in fact, happily surprised to find that their younger cousin and somewhat dim-witted friend were moving along in their relationship to the point of being engaged to be married.

Then one morning...

Shaking the sleeping brunette from her sleep, Toadie leaned in close to his girlfriend's face and excitedly exclaimed, "Toadie wants to go on another road trip!"

Valerie, startled, opened her eyes and punched Toadie in the face, causing him to flip over the side of the bed and onto the floor. Toadie quickly got to his feet and much like an over-stimulated pet in dire craving for attention, he got back onto the bed.

Toadie said, "Toadie knows what Valerie wants for breakfast this morning."

Slightly annoyed but still curious, Valerie opened her eyes again and saw Toadie's impressive penis staring her in the face. Even though they had been fucking, quite frequently, since coming back home, she still couldn't believe how ginormous Toadie's dick was when was he hard. The only part of Toadie's anatomy that could equal the impressiveness of his schlong was his lengthy tongue; which gave Valerie many pleasurable, memorable experiences.

Valerie reached out and pulled Toadie's wang closer to her mouth. Just before taking it in, she looked at her lover's face and asked, "You're giving me the big sausage, again?" Toadie smiled and then said, "Only the best for my loving, gentle petunia ."

After Toadie and Valerie did the ol' "bump n' grind", the couple discussed taking another road trip. Toadie's normally successful methods of persuasion often left Valerie satisfied and bug-eyed.

A week later, the couple drove out onto the highway and set a course for Arizona. Along the way, they stopped at a diner for a quick lunch before heading back out onto the road. During the course of their lunch, Toadie looked up from his plate of food and watched what was happening on a television in the back corner wall. Valerie peered up from her burger to see Henry Paulson, in an interview, berating a reporter for bringing unwelcome facts to viewers and making him appear to be an unsympathetic bastard.

The former US Treasury Secretary and CEO of Goldman Sachs pointed toward the reporter and said, "The more accurate reason behind the Occupy Wall Street protest is that the majority of the poor and unemployed in this country are envious of the upper class. They want what the wealthier citizenry in this nation have- but since they don't feel they should put the effort forth to attain a better life for themselves, they will, instead, attend these radical protests in the hopes of swaying government decisions."

The reporter inquired, "So you don't feel that one possible reason behind the "Occupy" protests could be that the people are angry that the government is being influenced and manipulated by banks, corporations and the powerful one percent in America?"

Henry Paulson smirked for a second and then whispered, "The bottom feeders are just joining in the fray of this desperate act of futility instead of attempting to find employment."

The reporter asked, "What was that?"

Paulson said, loud enough to be heard, "I believe there are certain members of society who feel disenfranchised because of the current state of our economy."

Toadie leaned far to one side and butt burped a long, aromatic fart that wafted in the air and was inhaled by several elderly people in a nearby booth. The geriatrics suddenly clutched their throats and chests. George, an old gentleman sitting on the outside half of the booth, mumbled a short prayer before exclaiming, "Something is amiss!"

At that, George's head plopped down in a bowl of oatmeal. Important Information: The oatmeal was flavored with cinnamon powder and tiny, organically grown chunks of naturally sweet Granny Smith apples.

The old man in the oatmeal bowl laboriously exhaled, which produced from his mouth a bubble made of a combination of warm oats and two percent milk (and let's not forget those delicious apples!).

When Valerie and Toadie paid their bill, they returned to the car and drove into the state of Arizona. Their destination was the Grand Canyon. But after an hour of driving they became lost and confused. The joint they began smoking upon passing the state line might have had something to do with it. Who knows? I mean, it's not like I know the story or something.

Eventually, Val and Toadie completely went off the beaten track and wound up in a ghost town. Now, if you had been paying attention to the more northern portion of this blog post, you will have noticed a blog post title- which would, of course, given you a clue as to where this most amazing story was leading.

Ahem... and stuff.

Toadie and Val slowly drove into the long abandoned town. You could almost hear the eerie music in the background, but not quite, because Val had a radio station on that was playing Alternative music set at high volume. Toadie cocked his head and saw a few doors to old wooden shops and a saloon slam open and shut. He thought this odd because the air was still.

As they stopped in the middle of the small old western town in order to back up and turn around, the car made a chugging noise and then shook a little. Valerie looked down at her dashboard. The car had run out of gas. They sat there for a few moments, quiet in thought. The sun gradually made it's decent behind some far away mountains in the desert. Saguaro cacti covered most of the area they were in.

Toadie got out of the car and convinced himself that it was a good idea to go into one of the vacant buildings to search for anything that could help them. Valerie went into what was once a saloon and bordello. In the days of the Old West, this bordello had employed a dozen or so prostitutes. A woman by the name of Annie was the Madam of the place. She was a beautiful blonde haired, good-natured woman who had sucked many a cowboy off back in the day. It was rumored she had fallen in love with a cowboy named Joe.

When Toadie went past a wall in the saloon, he shook his head, curious and surprised at who he thought he saw in an old picture hanging on the wall. He took his key light out of his pocket, shined it toward the picture and upon closer inspection, he remembered seeing the people in the old photograph.

Stayed tuned for part two of this enchanting tale.

Hocus Pocus and Presto Change-o.  Here's the link for Part 2 of this stimulating, educational yarn.  :) 
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