- "Did you go down to the beach yesterday and look at the word I wrote in the sand?"
- "Yeah, you wrote the word 'crab.' And with me I've got a piece of stationary, and I've written down exactly what the word means to me. Ever since prom, I've liked being fucked by unprotected dongs. Well, sure enough I got crabs. I had a crab on my cunt so big you could've boiled it and added some season and spice and had yourself a hell of a meal. I contracted those crabs from the prom king. He fucked me in the limo after he accepted his award. He told me he wanted to fill my slot with unprotected cock, that way he could give me his crabs. I thought he was goofing around, but he was dead serious and loving every minute of it. Within a week crabs had infested my cunt. Every inch of my fuckbucket was covered with those nasty, little, venereal vermin entitled crabs. Sometimes they would bite my clit and it would feel great, but most of the time it was horrible and made me feel inferior. I didn't know how to get rid of them, and I didn't have health insurance so I lived with them for 10 years and 3 days. I tried sitting in tomato juice, but I heard later that was for getting rid of stunk stench, so I figured if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I named every single crab that had moved onto the surface of my snatch. As far as I could feel, there was 20: Raymond, Lupé, Bobby, Ernest, Dixie, Lawrence, Shirley, Steve, Alejandro, and Neché. Eventually, after I saved up some cash, I turned my attention to a doctor who helped me kill the crabs. At the time I was happy to be free of their constant biting, but then became suicidal because I had killed my friends that had been by my side for 10 years. Even when I would go out for a weekend of unprotected fucking, they wouldn't leave me. They believed in me. Not one of the peters that pulverized my pussy during the 10 years of my crab infestation contracted them. They stuck by my pootang through thick and thin, and I fell deeply in love with them, and they loved me. At night I'd command them to bite my clitoris while I fucked my urine hole with a home pregnancy test. They wouldn't stop biting until all the tartar sauce had evacuated my twitty twat. They were my lovers and I destroyed their sweet hearts. Volleyball took away the depression of the crab killing, and that is the real reason I'm forever grateful for the game. I was this close to bringing the curtain down. So you want to know what the word 'crab' means to me? It means love of a lifetime. I hope before I die that another crab-carrying cock will dose me up good with a with a good helping of crabs, so I can know one more time what it feels like to be believed in."
