Bridget Chase's Blog, page 2
February 6, 2019
Full House on Elm Street
[image error]
Explain yerself…
Stephanie is attacked in the tub, WHAM! Family is there to help. Unnatural creatures pour from a dark dimension and a terrible, bloody, and sexually elicit war is raged inside this San Francisco residence. One Hollywood creature is stirring, and it isn’t Mickey F&%^’N Mouse! Grab them bandages; it’s TGI F&%KIN” Friday!
[image error]
Gimme’a taste…
“What is this wet slippery thing?”
Stephanie screamed.
She darted out the bathroom. Her towel clung to her body.
Oh, don’t be a prude. This is me, in like, season eight when I developed and started flaunting a little sexuality for all the boys who were growing up too fast and to keep them from outgrowing the show.
Her little TGIF cupcakes danced in bouncing twirls. We are so happy and jiggly, they sang.
“HELP!” Steph shouted again.
Before Joey even heard her shout; he sensed Steph’s naked body. He could always tell when she was naked, but this time it was different. “I better go check this out!”
He put Mr. Woodchuck down.
His puppet was dressed as Wonder Woman, wig and all. Mr. Woodchuck’s small blue panties were askew.
I wasn’t doing nothin’ swears-zies. I was just trying out different costumes out on Mr. Woodchuck. Nothin’ sexual; no sir.
DJ got up from her bed and ran to the door. “What’s the matter Steph?” she asked.
Steve was left sitting on the bed.
Damn, now I got this boner to deal with. Not that that’s unusual. DJ is such a boner tease; I don’t know why I’m with her sometimes. Damn the devil to hell!
His cock raged and balls were swollen. How many seasons will it take to bang her little sofa cushion? And now, what’s this with Stephanie?
Stephanie met DJ at the bedroom door.
“The bathroom,” Stephanie said, “Something was in the tub with me!” She was panting from adrenaline.
Steve looked over. Seriously? I’m horny as fuck and have been storing a nut for 18 years and now; Stephanie is standing there soaking wet all naked except for that little towel. I mean look at her. I can see them little titties through the thread bare towel. Come on! Cut me a break here.
“Something was in the tub?” DJ asked, “Let’s go see.” She turned to Steve, “Steve you coming?”
I wish I was. “Um, yeah just a moment.” Damn, why won’t she ever put out with her pink Jebly? All I’m asking for is to fill her belly with a quick sticky load and have her beg for me for more; you know? What’s the problem with that?
DJ and Steph went across the hall to the bathroom. on the way DJ called out, “DAD!”
“I’m here DJ, what’s the problem?”
He appeared out of nowhere along with Joey and Jesse.
Joey eyed Stephanie’s biscuits.
Well, blow me down, he said like Popeye in his head, she’s all wet, and nude, and damn, I wanna’ make her my sausage biscuit sand’ ich number five breakfast, please, oh please, oh please! Look at the way her tittie biscuits press at that towel. VROOM! HUBBA HUBBA WHOA!
His eyes traced her collarbone and then dropped.
Oh, they are so small and squishy. I just want to cuddle them and love on them. Oh, you’re so pretty little titties. Are those her nipples? It can’t be-
-Yes, it is-
-No-
-Yes; oh, strawberry gumdrops my balls hurt.
Danny noticed too, No I didn’t. And he jerked off in the shower later thinking about it; no, I didn’t. I was thinking about Kimmy-
-dammit;
No, I wasn’t thinking about Kimmy or Steph. Hey… wait! I didn’t do anything in the shower.
“What’s wrong,” Danny asked. Don’t look at her corn muffins.
“In there; something grabbed me,” Steph said and pointed.
Danny marched in and had himself a good fatherly look around.
[image error]
Wanna read more?
Then buy my shit!
[image error]
Look here, need money fer booze’n drugs. Gotta’ get’a hot tub’n some bitches, but need ta sell bookz ta do dat.
[image error]
Advertisements
Cocaine Mall Creature: Van Damme, Natalie Portman tits; touch’yer dick some
[image error]
Tell me ’bout it, some
A bad dude, dealing cocaine to elementary school kids at the mall, accidentally gets splashed with toxic bio hazard waste. His flesh mutates with the blow in his system. Something that sinister would mean certain death for everyone in that linoleum shopping center; except, Van Damme is at the mall, judging a Natalie Portman look-alike String Bikini Contest. He will use all his black-belt splits-skills to save the people and those pretty Natalies from the terrible narcotics monster.
[image error]
Gimme’a Sample, now
Harsh bustling and hormone driven harmonies of teen immortality echoed through the mall where we find our hero in the throes of happiness.
Sometimes, the Mall can be the shittiest place to be. Other times it is shitty because of a-
COCAINE MALL CREATURE!
Oh, I can’t wait for this contest to start. Damn would ya look at these babes! Jean Claude Van Damme stood back stage with the contestants. Man, how did I get so lucky as to be judging a Natalie Portman String Bikini Look A-Like contest?
Jean Claude waited and watched the girls slip them oiled Padme titties into them sleek shiny bikini cups. He was smart in wearin’ dem double whitie tighties as his cock was already ragin’ ta get hold of these fuckable petite brunettes.
Not far away, a man wearing loose black clothes ran desperately through the crowd knocking people outta his way.
“Outta my way,” he shouted. He glanced back. I don’t see him. Maybe I lost him. Good, now if I can just make it to my car and the parking lot.
He raced through the bottom floor of the mall.
On the second floor, two hundred feet ahead, two men in biohazard suits were carting a big ‘ol barrel across a bridged walkway. Military men parted the crowd. A little neon green liquid dripped down the side of the barrel.
It was unfortunate timing which brought the unnatural forces to this place and with it-
Creature Mania
Douglas Quaid laid on the speed. Did he get away? He was chasing a punk-shit guy in black clothes who was selling cocaine to elementary school kids at the mall. Being the badass manager of the LA Fitness in the mall came with more responsibilities that just dirty towels. Yeah, sometimes I gotta bust some heads and sometimes tap some twerkin’ asses. This is my world you punk!
He saw the man up ahead, bump into a couple.
He’s mine now.
Douglas Quaid’s thighs burned but that acidic buildup was no match for the roids in his veins.
There he is; a couple more steps and Ill leap on his back and pound his face some.
The guy in loose black looked back. Fuck, that gorilla is about to catch me. What do I do? I can’t get caught with this much coke again. Prison just ain’t for me.
He had flashbacks of an inmate named, Bolt. He’ll never shave my pubes into a lightning bolt again. NEVER!
No way man, not again.
He decided on something drastic.
Hope I don’t OD.
Douglas Quaid kept at him even though the guy stopped. What’s he doing? Wait, he’s dumping the whole baggy of coke down his throat.
SMACK! Douglas knocked the drug dealer off his feet. He slid across the ground.
It was then that one of the biohazard suit guys caught notice of a hot piece of jailbait ass.
Damn, her shorts don’t cover that peach ass at all! Man, bet that wet puss a hers is so tight. Damn, bet she ain’t even outta high school, man-
-oops!
The guy tripped.
“Hey!” His coworker said. “We’re losing it!”
THUNK! That bio waste barrel smashed into the railing of that bridge walk and, SLOSH! The green fluid splattered out.
The drug dealer rolled over just at the moment that-
“-My FACE! FUCK ME! MY FACE!” He screamed.
[image error]
Wanna’ read more- gotta’ buy
Hey, buy my shit!
[image error]
Dayum, bitches ain’t cheap, ya hear? Whole Milk needz ta finance’a hot tub n shit. Need money for booze’n drugs.
[image error]
February 5, 2019
the Walking, Meh: get’a book, get’a boner & have a laugh
[image error]
Explain, some…
Grab dat Root Beer Float and take a seat, we got this band of warriors who are fighting off the Undead. Following a terrible battle, and the entire team nearly killed, Maggie and Michonne are left all alone. That was until a new stranger entered the scene, by the name of Casey Jones. Some walks are easy; others super violent, but that’s how it goes when you are- The Walking Meh.
[image error]
Okay, lemme read’a bit-
Chaos gagged the land- fires chased the night. A band of heroes fought for their lives; lives which some might consider-
Meh
Bloody pulp and putrid bile. Constant wrath;
Maggie sat in denial.
“I can’t believe they are all dead. What are we going to do?” she asked.
SLINK! Michonne flung gore off the end of her sword. She too couldn’t comprehend what’d happened. “We will survive, Maggie. We’ll keep going. For them and… for us.”
Maggie climbed to her feet. Her jeans and tank top were wet with entrails and dark matter. The bodies of her friends were indistinguishable from the corpses of the walkers.
“Hey ladies! Wow, that was some battle,” a voice said.
Michonne and Maggie twisted around. Michonne readied her sword. Maggie leveled her twin pistols and took aim.
The flames of a battle were dying, and the heat twisted the mysterious figure into a dancing phantom.
“Show yourself!” Michonne said.
“I come in peace,” the voice said.
Maggie asked Michonne in a whisper, “Who is it?”
“I don’t know; just stay calm. We can handle it.”
A man wearing a hockey mask came around the fire. “My name is Casey, Casey Jones.” He holstered a bloody hockey stick over his shoulder.
Michonne looked down her blade and asked the stranger, “What do you want? If you don’t want to die, you better turn and leave.”
Casey Jones smiled. Damn, would you look at these bitches. This place fuckin rocks! “I don’t want trouble. I’m lookin’ for something and saw the fire. Looks like you’ve been through hell!”
“We have,” Maggie said.
“What’s your names?” he asked.
Maggie looked to Michonne for approval. She nodded. “I’m Maggie and this is Michonne.”
“Nice ta’ meet ya,” Casey said, “You two have some hot ass tits with nipples pokin’ out everywhere like, GIMME GIMME! and look like you could use a good meal and guard tonight.” He pulled off his backpack and showed cans of food inside.
Hey, buy my shit; White Bread needz’ta finance a hot tub; Dayum, bitches ain’t cheap, ya hear? Need money for booze’n drugs.
[image error]
Advertisements
February 4, 2019
Winter Prisoner- a short boner story
Or, tits… let’s not lie. Men follow tits; even to their deaths.
[image error]
Tell’me ’bout dis here book.
Will is almost dead. He’s been walking through the frozen woods for days. An apparition begs him to continue to follow. A second visitor shows him a paradise of possibilities. Will has to choose and one of them is certain death.
Lemme read’a touch
Redemption
It was cold as fuck. Like, really fuckin cold. Colder than you’ve ever been. Cold like you can’t imagine. Yeah, imagine cold; good, now go further…
Will Friedle breathed out. His breath came out in a cloud. He continued to walk. Frost built on his growing beard.
The layers of animal skin he wore were heavy; but so far, he was sure that nothing was frost bitten. His stomach was gaunt, and the idea of food haunted him.
Speaking of haunts…
“I love you. Won’t you come back to me?” he asked the apparition.
Jennifer love Hewitt smiled and giggled. She ran, hid behind a tree, and then peered out. She wore a flowing translucent robe. Her large tits and full hips were exaggerated. Jennifer’s eyes; her eyes burned Will’s heart.
“Come on, Will; keep going,” she said.
“I… I’ve been following you for days, now. Where are you taking me? I can’t go much further.”
Jennifer danced; she was unaffected by the cold. Well, except; her nipples were super hard- so, there ya’ go!
“I want you, Will,” she said, “Just keep following me.”
Jennifer did a lurid dance with her hands above her head and with her tits jutted out. “Further baby, further,” she said, “And you can have me.” Jenifer bent over and jiggled her titties in her hands for him. They were swollen tight.
Desire ran through Will’s groin and love flowed in his heart. “I love you Jennifer. Just stop and be with me.”
He knew she wasn’t there. A day ago, he had started seeing things. He didn’t even remember coming out to the woods or putting on all the layers of fur.
He saw his shadow move along the snow. I look like some snow monster.
The outside layers of fur were frozen. But on the inside, he was warm and greasy.
“No, Will, don’t follow her. Follow me.” A bear stepped out of the woods and said. It stood on its hind legs and had Tom Hanks’ face CGI-ed over the bear’s. “You’re lost and dying. I can show you, life.”
“Life, with me?” Jennifer asked the bear, “I think not. Will, follow me. I’ll suck yer dick and swallow all yer cum, as many times as you want baby. You want my mouth on yer dick all day? Done.”
Will looked at the bear and hitched his shoulders. “Hey Bear, what can I do.”
“Yeah,” Tom Hanks Bear Face said, “She makes a good point. Okay Will, I’ll see ya’ in a couple hours by the frozen river.”
[image error]
I know; I’m’a master writer, even sometimes’a masturbating writer. Those tits’a Jennifer’s make for some good stories!
[image error]
Hey, but my shit! Gonna finance me’a hot tub. Dayum, need money ta’buy some booze and drugs; bitches ain’t cheap, ya hear?
[image error]
Advertisements
February 2, 2019
Point Beak; What’da’puck Kindle Book
[image error]
What’dis about?
Derz a yeller bird name Big, who is’a fresh recruit fer dat government organ-IZ-ation known as’da FBI. With some surfer dudes robbin’ banks dat FBI gets involved and Big be assigned ta’ dat case. Well, Iz write a funny story ’cause Iz a funny guy; Big has’ta befriend da surfers and get informa-TION fer a bust. Big ain’t big on busts; except da’ kind dat involves them man nuts (splooge). Yep, Iz writes hot tubs and chicks inta’ dis literary masterpiece.
Yep, read or don’t. My writin’ ain’t fer just no-one; but, might be fer you; can’t tell, cause I ain’t met yaz. Iz a guy and a guy can’t know everybody. So’in youz decide; like’ta laugh- laugh; tight-ass, prolly shouldn’t read, none.
[image error]
Here’read’ya some…
He was a bad ass at the academy and all the trainees knew so, ‘cause Big, as they called that bird, tapped every ass in that place. Excludin’ them guys a’course- ‘cause that be gay as shit. But, this wasn’t the academy.
First Day Shit
“You’re a newbie piece of fuckin’ shit,” the FBI director said.
Big didn’t show any emotion. Not only ‘cause he was a fucking yeller bird, but also, just that kinda’ badass. He took that gawd damn abuse like all subordinate workers have to.
Spit flew from the mouth of the FBI Director, Donut, as he continued, “Look, I have your first mish. You know what a mish is, right? They teach you that in that kindergarten academy, did they?”
Big nodded. What a douche. This is the kind of manager that prolyl wears women’s panties and appreciates handcrafted ketchups.
“The mish is undercover and will use your pretty boy looks. Here, watch this cassette tape, would ya?”
Director Donut pressed play on the beta max machine. Gawd dat shit is old; but fer whatever reason, I’d buy one again.
The video showed some dudes storm a bank wearing Katy Perry masks and brandishing medieval forks. They stabbed shit with them stainless steel eatin’ untensils, robbed da’ teller, and ran out that door with big bags that had the money sign imprinted on them. Oh, and they was laughin, just crackin’ up- havin’ themselves a good ‘ol time bein’ bad. And, you really couldn’t blame them. ‘Cause if you saw ‘Breaking Bad’ then you know how fun bein’ bad can look.
Director Donut pressed pause. He got choked up. “It’s just horrible. Those poor people robbed at fork point. And, all that money gone, GONE! Geez, what will that money be spent on? Bad things I bet. Not puppies or diapers. Those bastards! I bet they will buy chicks to hump in’da’ butt. Sure nuff. Bank money gets you da’ butt.” Man, I wish I could plow’a hot girl in dat butt’a hers. He turned to the bored bird. “Well, Yellow Hot shit-.”
“-My name is Big-.”
“-I don’t give a rat’s ass. Ninety percent of trainees die on their first day. So, you don’t get no name from me till after this little mish. You’re on the case, no name shit. We believe these dudes are surfers travelin’ this country’a ours just robbin’ them banks and living a cool ass life. The kinda life that I would live if I weren’t such a puss. Ah, puss. Where have you gone from my life? Yep, bet they get all kinds- tight, loose, stinky, rough, hairy, cheesy…-” (cough) He looked at Big “-anyways.”
“Where do I find them?” Big asked. “Should I start at the seven eleven? That’s where them text books told us kindergarten academy trainees to go. Yep; go hang out by that superb Surpee Machine, and just wait. Them criminals talk. Talk like it’s the damned breakroom watercooler.”
“No, no, no! You, dumb bird. We used weird science in our labs to determine that the perfect waves are here in Santa Monica; and them waves are romancin’ our bank robbers. They’s gonna stay through summer. So, you’ll go to that beach, and infiltrate those surfers, and keep your ears open and then, report back to me.”
Big thought on this. Hmm, I’m thinkin’ on this. I hope there be some hot bitches with some tickly Hermans all oiled up and tan. He decided to ask, just to make sure, “Will there be any tickly Hermans on dat beacH?”
“It’s Santa Monica beach, you foul mouthed bird! Of course, there will be! There be tickly Hermans there all day.”
[image error]
“Da’yum! Need money fer booze and drugs. White Bread needz’ta finance himself a hot tub’n shit; bitches ain’t cheap, ya hear?”
-Bridget Chase 2019-
[image error]
Advertisements
February 1, 2019
Went’n started doin’dat YouTube thang
Advertisements
Emmy Crossum: short story- Kindle eBook!
[image error]
What dis be’bout?
Emmy climbed out of her own grave. Some terrible men had raped and killed her. With the guidance of Tom Hanks Bird Face, she hunts the men down and exacts sweet revenge; then, the story goes where all good stories go, involving demons and hot tubs.
[image error]
Here, read’a bit’a it…
Dirt Under the Nails
The rain beat like shit. Soggy puddles littered the cemetery’s lawn. Lightening cracked. A bright razor of light struck the top of the headstone.
The sound of rain overpowered everything. The ground in front of the headstone moved. Pale fingers broke its muddy surface. A hand emerged and strained for the sky.
What the fuck? She asked herself.
A woman clawed her way out of the wet earth. She wore a white dress which was a sodden mess.
The woman wretched her body from her own grave. Labored breaths pulled at her chest. She rested on all fours and caught her breath. Strings of jet-black hair hung in strings over her face and shoulders.
“What? Where?” the word slipped from her lips like decomposed noodles.
CRACK! Lightening lit the world in a bright flash. The boom of thunder made her jump.
The woman raised her head and looked at the world.
Her mind raced as her eyes darted around this wet place. Where…? Trees… who… graves? Emmy; a name… my name. A cemetery. I died… I died? Rape. Men raped me… they raped me.
Emmy Rossum collapsed onto the earth. She cried and curled into a ball on her side.
“BEA-KAH! Come on now, girl. Get yourself up,” a voice said.
Emmy looked up.
“That’s right, girl. No time fer no cryin’. Stand on up. We have things to do.”
She followed the voice till her eyes came to rest on a black crow which sat in the leafless black tree.
“Did you…?” It couldn’t have spoken; could it have?
“Yeah girl,” the crow said, “Lets get ta’ work.”
The black crow had Tom Hanks’ face CGI-ed onto the birds. Tom Hanks Bird Face beat its wings and took flight. He landed on the headstone next to the shivering girl.
“You talk?” Emmy asked. She had her arms wrapped over her chest.
“Yes, I most certainly do. Now, some people went and killed yer ass. I’m here ta’ help you get revenge.” Tom Hanks Bird Face smiled with his Hollywood bird lips. Yes sir, love me these roles where I get ta work with these hot ass actresses. Sure nuff. That dress’a hers, all wet and clingy, don’t hide a damned thing. Those tits a’hers could kill.
“Okay,” Emmy said, “I’m ready for revenge.”
“Cool,” Tom Hanks Bird Face said, “Follow me.” He took flight through the dark downpour. His desperate black wings beat feathery pulses.
[image error]
I write the weirdest shit. Adult swim, Rick and Morty, Family Guy? They ain’t even on’da same planet as me. I’m rewriting fiction; till fiction don’t even know itself no more. Check it out or don’t- I got more shit to do.
[image error]
“Da’yum! Need money fer booze and drugs. White Bread needz’ta finance himself a hot tub’n shit; bitches ain’t cheap, ya hear?”
-Bridget Chase 2019-
[image error]
December 11, 2018
Space Weasel: BELCH!
[image error]
[image error]
This story is like warm pepperoni pizza. Minimum-wage-working-hands make this pie when Pauly Shore and Joey Gladstone are doin’ some cloud watchin’ together. Those two (pssh) so silly sometimes. That lazy man’s sport goes wrong when a huge flyin’ saucer comes down and steals Joey away. Pauly then is left alone; but fiction gets thrown in the pizza oven when he encounters Natalie Portman. Yeah, Natalie Portman; that super Saiyan sexy celebrity. Natalie says she’s been tracking that Space Weasel and knows where his friend was taken. So, that’s where things get all melt-y cheesy and put on a plate for you to eat. The two set out to track that darn star varmint and get Pauly his cloud watchin’ friend back!
[image error]
[image error]
ABOUT BRIDGET:
Bridget Chase is an American author who primarily writes both horror and satirical comedy. He was born in Houston Texas; studied art at the University of Texas San Antonio (bore) where he received his Bachelor of Fine Art. He was a school teacher for many years, but left because it sucked ass. Bridget currently resides in Boulder Colorado where he has an art studio and works everyday writing new stories.
[image error]
“Need money for booze ‘n drugs; dayum b&tches ain’t cheap, ya’ hear?
Whole Milk needz his self ta’ finance ‘a hot tub ‘n sh&t.” -Bridget Chase-
[image error]
Advertisements
December 8, 2018
Jason Voorhees Sweet Sixteen
[image error]
Welcome Crispy Deep Fried Readers, Jason here has some fun plans for this Saturday Night. A Sweet Sixteen party is the perfect arena for some murderous fun. He enlists the help of Steve Urkel and Peter Vankman in this fiesta of flesh.
[image error]
[image error]
About Mr. Chase
Brotha’ needz his money for booze ‘n drugs; dayum b&tches ain’t cheap, ya’ hear?
Whole Milk needz his self ta’ finance ‘a hot tub ‘n sh&t.
[image error]
Bridget Chase is an American author who primarily writes both horror and satirical comedy. He was born in Houston Texas; studied art at the University of Texas San Antonio (bore) where he received his Bachelor of Fine Art. He was a school teacher for many years, but left because it sucked ass. Bridget currently resides in Boulder Colorado where he has an art studio and works everyday writing new stories.
[image error]
Advertisements
October 25, 2018
2021 Hathaworld Ends: Super Shorts
[image error]
[image error]
Welcome suicide readers of razor wrist-cuttin’ words, what we got here is Anne Hathaway; and her hotness, which is destroying the entire world. Extra-chunky fiction soup get heated up, when Gerard Butler and John Cusack are recruited by the military. They are assigned the task of wetting women’s panties to save the world from the coming Annepocalypse.
[image error]
About Bridget Chase
Bridget Chase was a tough, intelligent police detective in the 1930’s till early 40’s. His career was one wrought with murders, poisons, secret doors, Chinamen, twin siblings, and slightly dim witted sidekicks. Mr. Chase’s body was discovered frozen along the snowy banks of eastern Pennsylvania on December 9th 1943. He died while on a case chasing a fugitive charged with extortion.
Bridget Chase was an avid writer in his off hours and he wrote many novels along with short stories across a variety of genres. His writings went unknown for nearly seventy years and changed hands many times until reaching a online indie magazine publication, Yellow Hat Dick, in 2013,.
Yellow Hat Dick magazine began to publish Bridget Chase’s short stories on their website. Following positive reception and a growing interest in Mr. Chase’s weird sensibilities, bizarre story lines, and misogynistic over tones, Yellow Hat Dick magazine gained legal control over Bridget’s writing. In 2015 they began to publish his works under the publishing company Chase Entertainment.
[image error]
Advertisements
