Lord Long Rod
Diamond Member
- Jan 17, 2023
- 7,706
- 8,122
- 2,138
- Banned
- #1
Remember those old Christmas specials on TV, like the Sonny and Cher Christmas Special? There were a lot of those shows. They would have a famous person host the show, then other famous people would come out, crack some jokes, then they would serve egg nog and sing Christmas carols in front of a tree or fireplace, or both. All those old TV stars in the 1960s and 1970s did shows like this. There would be show titles like "It's a Very Merry Christmas, With Carol Burnett", or "Christmas With the Sinatras", or "Its Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, at Johnny Carson's House!" (Note, none of these are actual show titles but are instead for demonstrative purposes).
I hated Christmas because there are so may bad memories for me. Both of my parents were raging alcoholics. Extended time away from work and at home meant explosive drunken conflict. I would count the days until it was over and I could go back to school. When I grew up and had a family I got into the Christmas decorations, climbing up the ladder and hanging lights on my house, the tree, the presents, all that stuff. Then came the divorce. Fortunately, I kept my child and raised him as a single father. I kept Christmas going, for his sake. Even this year, with my son now virtually grown, I still put up decorations and a tree. I intentionally snub my nose at my past and decisively decided to enjoy Christmas, and I have ever since I grew up.
But I do not just jump into the Christmas spirit. Sure, I have my decorations up. But now, with last minute gifts being acquired, plans being made, and everybody starting to disengage from reality for a few days, I have entered a sort of warm and cozy zone where I am ready to zone out for a few days too. It is in this mood that I started thinking about the old Christmas shows last night. I wish I could make one of those shows and host it.
Of course, my Christmas show would be for adults only. There would have to be some good old ribaldry and adult themes in order to be entertaining. I figure I would film it at my home. A fire would be blazing in the fireplace in my living room, to the left of the fireplace is my Christmas tree, decorated with white lights, golden garland, and red and gold balls. The show would start with the song "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" as I walk out in front of my fireplace, holding a cup of alcohol-free egg nog and wearing a Christmas red and white velvet robe and slippers on my feet. I am completely nude under the robe, and it is open, with all my junk hanging out.
I smile, and there is applause from the non-existent audience. I then launch into my monologue. "Good evening, lady and gentlemen!! We have a fine show for you this Christmas. I sincerely hope everybody and their families are doing well. Well, except for Hamas. I hope you burn in hell!!! HA HA HA HA!!! No, seriously. I hope you burn in hell, Hamas, for all the vile and barbaric shit you have done. BURN IN HELL. Do you know what would convince me that there is no God in the universe, it would be if one member of the Hamas incursion into Israel survives. Because surely a just and loving God would want to cleanse the Earth of these fiends most foul. But I digress."
"Now its time for my first guess. You all know her from some TV show and from pop music. Help me give a big, warm welcome to my first guest, GWEN STEFANI!!!" Massive applause. Gwen strolls out in a sexy elf outfit and shakes my hand.
"Hey, there Gwen!! You know, if you want to shake some more of my appendages, I think I can make that happen!!" Laughter and Gwen smiles. I continue, "Come on over here Gwen! Let's have a seat and chat a bit." We walk to my leather chair. Gwen notices that there is only one chair, and no place for her to sit. I explain, "Well, Gwen, you are going to have to sit right here on my lap then, I guess. Come on, pop a squat on Rod!!"
This being my fantasy, this is how it is going to go down.
Gwen sits on my lap. I make a little graceful small talk. But honestly, I do not really care about her personal life. So I ask her about Hamas and the "Palestinians". We start talking about that. I get rock hard talking about war and looking at Gwen's skin on her legs. A moment later, Gwen says, "Oh, Rod, do you have a pet snake in your robe? Something is poking me, and it seems to be trying to wrap around me!!!!"
The show goes to commercial for Norelco razors. Unfortunately, the segment with Gwen has ended, and she is ushered away. Then we are back.
"OK, ladies and germs!!! We now have a special guest to help bring out our Yuletide logs. Give it up for pop star extraordinaire, TIFFANY!!!!!" Applause. Then a stage hand walks over and whispers something into my ear. I correct my introduction, "Lady's and dudes, I fucked up. Let me present to you instead, TAYLOR SWIFT!!!" Taylor walks out in a sexy mini skirt. However, she does not keep with the script and walks out with some big dude she introduces as "Kelce" something or other". Shocked, I ask, "Taylor, uh, who is this guy with you?" she tells me but I am not listening because I am ogling her tits popping out of her top. You know, most people do not realize this, but Taylor has a pair or rockin' tits!!
Taylor's boyfriend then asks if I could please close my robe, as my rod was standing at full attention and sticking out. "No, Kelce, this is MY show and my wang needs to free-range! Hey Taylor, let's sing a fucking Christmas tune, OK?" We then do a rendition of "Silent Night", me, Taylor, and my wang. Immediately after the song, we cut to commercial for Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.
After the second brake it is the comedy part of the show where we do some hijinks and have some laughs. I introduce my third guest of the evening. This is a straight (serious) guy, to compliment my jokes. It's Barack Obama. We lured him onto the show by promising him he can talk about the evils of "white supremacy", including but not limited to colonizing. Of course, we are not really going to let him talk about that shit.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our next guest comes to us straight from KENYA, and is one of the founders of today's American neo-Marxist revolutionaries, Barack Obama!!!
Barry Obama comes strolling out on stage. He walks like a black bird on a sidewalk. I say, "Barry-O, what up, my man!!!" He responds, "I'm good, I'm good. I see there, Rod, that you recently 'came out'", looking down at my cock and intending to make a gay quip at my expense. I counter, "Whoa, now, Barry. I don't roll that way. Look at my face." I look around and laugh, then say, "Besides, there's no way my cock is as big as Michelle's. You would get bored with me!!" Out of nowhere - Rimshot!!!
Then we jump right into a skit. The background drops and is replaced by a backdrop of a farm with crops growing in the background. Obama is shocked and disoriented because we did not tell him about this part of the show. A stage hand runs out and wraps a costume around Obama (overalls) and puts a straw hat on his head. I am changed out of my robe and outfitted as a plantation overseer might be in 1860, including a leather whip in my hand. The lights go up, and there we are, me as the overseer and Barry-O is my slave. I crack the whip and say, "Boy! Ya'll better have got all the crop o' cotton picked or else I am burying ya in the well tonight!!!"
At this point, the broadcast is shut down and taken off TV as the Secret Service detail assigned to Obama rushes the stage. I am pissed at them because my show was not over, and I was still going to have to pay my guests that never got to perform: David Duke, Cannibal Corpse, and Gilbert Gottfried. In fact, Gilbert Gottfried is already bugging my assistant to be paid, and it trying to get it in cash.
Later on, my production company is indicted for a hate crime and multiple civil rights violations. I don't care, because I had already packed my shit and flown off in the middle of the night to my new home in Argentina!
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!
I hated Christmas because there are so may bad memories for me. Both of my parents were raging alcoholics. Extended time away from work and at home meant explosive drunken conflict. I would count the days until it was over and I could go back to school. When I grew up and had a family I got into the Christmas decorations, climbing up the ladder and hanging lights on my house, the tree, the presents, all that stuff. Then came the divorce. Fortunately, I kept my child and raised him as a single father. I kept Christmas going, for his sake. Even this year, with my son now virtually grown, I still put up decorations and a tree. I intentionally snub my nose at my past and decisively decided to enjoy Christmas, and I have ever since I grew up.
But I do not just jump into the Christmas spirit. Sure, I have my decorations up. But now, with last minute gifts being acquired, plans being made, and everybody starting to disengage from reality for a few days, I have entered a sort of warm and cozy zone where I am ready to zone out for a few days too. It is in this mood that I started thinking about the old Christmas shows last night. I wish I could make one of those shows and host it.
Of course, my Christmas show would be for adults only. There would have to be some good old ribaldry and adult themes in order to be entertaining. I figure I would film it at my home. A fire would be blazing in the fireplace in my living room, to the left of the fireplace is my Christmas tree, decorated with white lights, golden garland, and red and gold balls. The show would start with the song "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" as I walk out in front of my fireplace, holding a cup of alcohol-free egg nog and wearing a Christmas red and white velvet robe and slippers on my feet. I am completely nude under the robe, and it is open, with all my junk hanging out.
I smile, and there is applause from the non-existent audience. I then launch into my monologue. "Good evening, lady and gentlemen!! We have a fine show for you this Christmas. I sincerely hope everybody and their families are doing well. Well, except for Hamas. I hope you burn in hell!!! HA HA HA HA!!! No, seriously. I hope you burn in hell, Hamas, for all the vile and barbaric shit you have done. BURN IN HELL. Do you know what would convince me that there is no God in the universe, it would be if one member of the Hamas incursion into Israel survives. Because surely a just and loving God would want to cleanse the Earth of these fiends most foul. But I digress."
"Now its time for my first guess. You all know her from some TV show and from pop music. Help me give a big, warm welcome to my first guest, GWEN STEFANI!!!" Massive applause. Gwen strolls out in a sexy elf outfit and shakes my hand.
"Hey, there Gwen!! You know, if you want to shake some more of my appendages, I think I can make that happen!!" Laughter and Gwen smiles. I continue, "Come on over here Gwen! Let's have a seat and chat a bit." We walk to my leather chair. Gwen notices that there is only one chair, and no place for her to sit. I explain, "Well, Gwen, you are going to have to sit right here on my lap then, I guess. Come on, pop a squat on Rod!!"
This being my fantasy, this is how it is going to go down.
Gwen sits on my lap. I make a little graceful small talk. But honestly, I do not really care about her personal life. So I ask her about Hamas and the "Palestinians". We start talking about that. I get rock hard talking about war and looking at Gwen's skin on her legs. A moment later, Gwen says, "Oh, Rod, do you have a pet snake in your robe? Something is poking me, and it seems to be trying to wrap around me!!!!"
The show goes to commercial for Norelco razors. Unfortunately, the segment with Gwen has ended, and she is ushered away. Then we are back.
"OK, ladies and germs!!! We now have a special guest to help bring out our Yuletide logs. Give it up for pop star extraordinaire, TIFFANY!!!!!" Applause. Then a stage hand walks over and whispers something into my ear. I correct my introduction, "Lady's and dudes, I fucked up. Let me present to you instead, TAYLOR SWIFT!!!" Taylor walks out in a sexy mini skirt. However, she does not keep with the script and walks out with some big dude she introduces as "Kelce" something or other". Shocked, I ask, "Taylor, uh, who is this guy with you?" she tells me but I am not listening because I am ogling her tits popping out of her top. You know, most people do not realize this, but Taylor has a pair or rockin' tits!!
Taylor's boyfriend then asks if I could please close my robe, as my rod was standing at full attention and sticking out. "No, Kelce, this is MY show and my wang needs to free-range! Hey Taylor, let's sing a fucking Christmas tune, OK?" We then do a rendition of "Silent Night", me, Taylor, and my wang. Immediately after the song, we cut to commercial for Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.
After the second brake it is the comedy part of the show where we do some hijinks and have some laughs. I introduce my third guest of the evening. This is a straight (serious) guy, to compliment my jokes. It's Barack Obama. We lured him onto the show by promising him he can talk about the evils of "white supremacy", including but not limited to colonizing. Of course, we are not really going to let him talk about that shit.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our next guest comes to us straight from KENYA, and is one of the founders of today's American neo-Marxist revolutionaries, Barack Obama!!!
Barry Obama comes strolling out on stage. He walks like a black bird on a sidewalk. I say, "Barry-O, what up, my man!!!" He responds, "I'm good, I'm good. I see there, Rod, that you recently 'came out'", looking down at my cock and intending to make a gay quip at my expense. I counter, "Whoa, now, Barry. I don't roll that way. Look at my face." I look around and laugh, then say, "Besides, there's no way my cock is as big as Michelle's. You would get bored with me!!" Out of nowhere - Rimshot!!!
Then we jump right into a skit. The background drops and is replaced by a backdrop of a farm with crops growing in the background. Obama is shocked and disoriented because we did not tell him about this part of the show. A stage hand runs out and wraps a costume around Obama (overalls) and puts a straw hat on his head. I am changed out of my robe and outfitted as a plantation overseer might be in 1860, including a leather whip in my hand. The lights go up, and there we are, me as the overseer and Barry-O is my slave. I crack the whip and say, "Boy! Ya'll better have got all the crop o' cotton picked or else I am burying ya in the well tonight!!!"
At this point, the broadcast is shut down and taken off TV as the Secret Service detail assigned to Obama rushes the stage. I am pissed at them because my show was not over, and I was still going to have to pay my guests that never got to perform: David Duke, Cannibal Corpse, and Gilbert Gottfried. In fact, Gilbert Gottfried is already bugging my assistant to be paid, and it trying to get it in cash.
Later on, my production company is indicted for a hate crime and multiple civil rights violations. I don't care, because I had already packed my shit and flown off in the middle of the night to my new home in Argentina!
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!
