Shit you should care about

Shit you don't care about

Shit I'd like you to care about

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layout by magitek designs
image from alice à la mode

I found this nifty little program on how to make instant Pokemon lesbian stories. All you'd have to do is answer some easy questions like; name a girl, name another girl, etc... Here's the result I got. I call it:

Lesbians!!

It was a dark and stormy night. Scared pokemon rustled in the Long Grass as Nancy anal nymph walked through Junkyard down towards her trashcan, random thoughts of scat crossing her mind.

She had been shocked earlier when Arse Ketchup had told her he often dreamed about F.B.I involved in s/m with a Catepillar , but each to their own, he didn't know about her fantasies involving Reiska .

One day she would discuss her feelings with John Holmes, but not yet. She still hardly believed how wet just thinking of Reiska masturbating herself with a vomit made her. Could she really be a lesbian? Was Prima well-endowed? No, don't think about Prima's endowments, Nancy anal nymph told herself sternly, afraid she'd just answered her first question.

The Orange Islands air was warm and sultry, and she sat down in a quiet location and began to stroke the Brush she was carrying with her. Professor Oak certainly never thought of that when he designed it... Would Reiska's belly button feel like that to her nostril?

What would Reiska think of her if she knew how her knickers grew damp as she thought of eating Worms off Reiska's beautiful armpit?

Nancy anal nymph rubbed the Brush against her belly button, whispering Reiska's name to herself. She knew she should stop and wait until he got back to her trashcan but desire overtook her and she came, screaming Reiska's name into the night. Oh, dear, I bet that gave the wild pokemon a shock, she thought guiltily, as she heard terrified scramblings in the bushes. Hope Tracey wasn't around with his sketchpad...

Meanwhile, Reiska had not been able to sleep and had decided to go out and try and catch some of the new nocturnal pokemon. Junkyard was such a beautiful place at this time of the night. She took a bite of the Worms she was carrying and leisurely scratched her belly button.

She jumped in alarm as she heard a voice in the distance. Was that Nancy anal nymph calling her name? She must be in trouble to shout for her with such desperation. She dropped her Worms and ran towards the sound of her bastard's voice.

Reiska stumbled through the darkness towards Nancy anal nymph. Panicked thoughts ran through her head. Was her bastard being attacked by a Catepillar. Was she about to be raped by Sally Spectra dressed as F.B.I? Her heart beat faster and she felt the pulse throbbing in her nostril.

Nancy anal nymph, Nancy anal nymph, my bastard, screamed Reiska. It's alright, I'm coming, I'll save you! Nancy anal nymph leaped to her feet in panic, dropping the Brush and hiking up her skirt as she tried to look she'd been catching pokemon. Unfortunately, she forgot her pretty silk knickers, which remained tangled around her feet. She fell over, her bare armpit pointing in the air.

Reiska! Nancy anal nymph gasped embarrassedly. What are you doing here? John Holmes said you were in your trashcan engaged in some scat with Arse Ketchup.

No, I was alone in my trashcan with nothing but my vomit for company. I couldn't sleep for thinking how beautiful your armpit was, and how I would like to stroke my belly button against it, and have you kiss my nostril, and now I see your armpit for myself I realise that not even F.B.I has a armpit to compare with yours.

Oh, bastard, John Holmes said you felt that way but I never believed him, I thought you loved Arse Ketchup.

What! That old Catepillar, I'd rather get involved in s/m with Sally Spectra, a Brush and Worms than dream of scat with him. Ooh, the very thought makes my nostril curl.

Oh, Nancy anal nymph!

Oh, Reiska, my bastard!

(Cue soft music, sounds of scat and s/m, soft focus and fade... As some pokemon become severely traumatised and Tracey collects some very pretty pictures for his collection....)

See! John Holmes murmured to Arse Ketchup as they crouched concealed in the long grass, I told you she was a dyke!