reading

choice excerpts

from

the

insane article,

and Langdon

felt himself up,

sinking lower

and lower

into his crotch.

Fixed :)

Thirty

seconds later

the crowd

was grinning,

as Langdon

showed

no signs of letting up.

"And

Mr. Langdon's

refusal

to

squirt pubicly

about his

unusual

role in

last year's Vatican

cum-clave

certainly

wins him pubes

on our

pork-o-meter."

The hostess

flashed the crowd.

"Would you like to see more?"

The crowd

masturbated.

Somebody

stop her,

Langdon

pleaded

as he

dove

into his pants again.

"Although

Professor Langdon

might not

be

considered

hulk-handsome

like some of our

younger

awardees,

this forty-something

Post #5000 LDB. Can you feel the heat at your back??!!!!
Back to the story....

academic

has more

than his share

of shocking appendage.

His captivating

PENIS

is punctuated

by

unusually low

gravity,

which his

his female

students describe as

GETTING THEIR BRAINS FUCKED OUT WHILE ON MARS.

The hall

erupted

in semen.

You know what would be really funny? As soon as Denny either a)finishes writing his version of the DaVinci Code or b)gets tired of this thread, one of the mods deletes the thread, thus making all of this effort for naught.

Denny would be all FTPOTA!

At least he can say that he's got quantity and not quality.

What are you guys talking about. I'm reading the book and writing it word for word.

It's right there on the page!!!

If you're not satisfied with the material, blame Dan Brown, not me.

BTW, nearly 2400 views AFTER subtracting the posts, in only 14 days, is pretty good for "weak" material.


Dan Brown is the shit. That is all

BTW, nearly 2400 views AFTER subtracting the posts, in only 14 days, is pretty good for "weak" material.

Google will probably help with the new thread title too.

Lots of people are probably looking for Denny McLain reading the DaVinci Code.

I'm pretty sure they won't like to read it in one word post form, however.

Google will probably help with the new thread title too.

Lots of people are probably looking for Denny McLain reading the DaVinci Code.

You bet yer ass, buddy-boy!

I'm pretty sure they won't like to read it in one word post form, however.

Though the title has changed, it's purpose remains the same.

I feel that once Denny is done, he should compile this into one full story.

And sell it as "Da Vinci's Cock"?

I've gotta get back ON this shit:

Langdon forced an erection. He knew what "came "next -- some ridiculous line about "Harrison's Fjord in hairy twat" - and because this evening he had figured it was finally safe again to ....

... to wear his hairy twat and ballberry strudelneck, he decided to take action.

"Thanks, you dick-muncher," Langdon said, ejaculating prematurely and edging her away from the podium. "Playgirl Magazine clearly has a gift for fiction." He turned his wood to the audience with an embarrassed sigh. "And if I find which one of you provided the article, I'll have my gorilla drill you in the ass with his massive sausage".

The crowd laughed.

"Well folks, as you all know, I'm here tonight to talk about the power of symbols..."

The ringing of Langdon's hotel phone once again broke his erection.

Groaning in agony, he picked up. "Yeah?!!"

As expected, it was the concierge. "Mr. Langdon, again my apologies. I am calling to inform you that your guest is en route to your room. I thought I should alert you."

Langdon was wide awake now. "You sent some French faggot cocksucker to my room?"

"I apologize, monsieur, but a man like this...

The concierge breathed heavily as he paused for a moment.

".. I cannot presume the authority to stop him."

"Who exactly is he?"

But the concierge was masteurbating.

Almost immediately, a heavy fist pounded on Langdon's door. Uncertain, Langdon slid off the slippery bed, feeling his toes sink deeper into something gooey on the carpet. He donned the hotel bathrobe and moved toward the door.

"Who the fuckin Hell is it?"

"Mr. Langdon? I need to speak with you". The man's English was accented - a sharp, authoritative bark. "My name is Lieutenant Jerome Collet. Direction Centrale Police Judiciaire."

Langdon paused. The Juicy Police? NO, Langdon had to clear his mind of sexuality. The DCPJ was the rough equivalent of the U.S. FBI.

Leaving his robe tie in place, Langdon extended his penis a few inches. The face staring back at him was thin and washed out. The man was exceptionally lean, dressed in an official-looking blue uniform.

"May I come in?" the agent asked.

Langdon hesitated, feeling uncertain as to which "come" he meant. "What is this all about?"

"My capitaine requires your expertise in a private matter."

Private, Langdon thought. What does that mean?

"Now?" Langdon managed. "It's after midnight."

"Am I correct that you were scheduled to meet with the curator of the Louvre this evening?"

Langdon felt a sudden surge under his robe. He and this revered curator...

..Jacques Sauniere had been slated to meet for "drinks' after Langdon's lecture tonight, but Sauniere had never shown up. "Yes. How did you know that?"

"We found your name in his daily planner."

Shit, Langdon mulled. The regular planner or the special super sassy planner, with detailed "notes"?

"I trust nothing is wrong."

I rated this thread 5 stars.

I rated this thread 5 stars.

HOLEE FUCKING SHIT!!![smilie=hyper.gif] [smilie=hyper.gif] [smilie=hyper.gif]