Baby Ghengis
Every year in the Mongol Empire, circus performers from the Far East and would arrive to demonstrate feats of skill and daring and 1169 C.E. was no different. It was this year that a small girl-child named Temüjin would see the circus for the first time.
While the tigers, elephants, camels and phoenixes were impressive enough to the young girl, it was the knife-throwing act that kept her spellbound, until an errant throw sent a knife hurtling in her direction. Without even thinking, she stood up, turned precisely 62° clockwise, and caught the blade expertly in her peg-like baby teeth. Needless to say, she got a standing ovation from all, especially her father who quickly sold her off to the Ringmaster as “Baby Ghengis, Marvel of the Mongol Empire.”
Her career skyrocketed and Baby Ghengis soon found herself playing in small Brooklyn nightclubs, decades before Brooklyn had been discovered by the Vikings. Baby Ghengis soon learned that throwing knives was an excellent way to scare the bejeesus out of strangers. She decided to leave the circus, move to Australia and form an army.
Australia turned out to be a bust. Nothing but bored marsupials, poisonous snakes and apathetic Aboriginals. Heading back north on a Princess cruise ship, Ghengis decided that the only way she could be taken seriously was to become a man. At the Hong Kong port, she made her way through dank alleys in search of a doctor who was willing to give her gender reassignment surgery.
Back then, sex changes were somewhat primitive in nature and Ghengis found herself staring at her new penis: a large, Polish dill pickle sewn to her mons pubis. It had been spray-painted a realistic flesh tone and bore the surgeon’s signature and official Franklin Mint Collection number in 14k gold. Now a man, Ghengis moved back to Mongolia and rented a timeshare condominium from Lao Tse’s grandson where he spent his afternoons plotting world domination and strategic gardening possibilities.
THE END
Tags: Words.
You’re twisted, Dave. Where did you come up with this? I loved the cartoon themes, tho, brought back some childhood memories the were probably best forgotten. My favorite is Animaniacs, fuck TMNT!
You write bedtime stories too?!
You write bedtime stories too?!
You write bedtime stories too?!
Oops!! Strike the last two comments.
I hear an echo.
watch what you grip with your teeth or you could gain a prick.
So, poor Temüjin grew up in a loving, slavery-minded home. She embraced her new life as a circus novelty until her inner anger and insecurity drove her over the edge into bullying others. After an irrational passage where she sought validation and found instead vast, continent-wide disappointment, she chose to express her inner conflict as body modification (they had tattoos, then but presumably piercings weren’t popular that week). And she spent the rest of her life expressing her inner doubts as unlikely outer plans and doodles.
How sad.
DAVE - Whatever you are smoking / ingesting, please share.
There once was a Dave with a blogsite …
“… She decided to leave the circus, move to Australia and form an army.
Australia turned out to be a bust. Nothing but bored marsupials, poisonous snakes and apathetic Aboriginals.”
You forgot to mention that she left a splinter cell here which evolved into Circus Oz who do all sorts of things with marsupials, poisonous snakes and apathetic Aboriginals…
THAT WAS SOME OF THE DUMBEST SHIT I HAVE EVER READ..THAT IS 1 MIN OF MY LIFE I WILL NEVER GET BACK…THANKS FOR NOTHING
I think sonmeone needs a nap.
Gee Dave. Maybe she’s right. I mean, that’s a lot of syllables and capitalization for marcia to have to read. and it took her an entire minute that she could have spent on the streets. She lost a whole dollar cause of you!
Davezilla … the Alfred E. Neuman of Historical Revisionism! Thanks for the yuks!
Gee, you really think she makes sixty bucks an hour?
Genetic studies have proved that today there are approximately 16 million men directly descended from old Ghengis. Wow, when they told me those Polish dill pickles were potent, I thought they were just referring to the taste.
60 men in one hour? OK it’s a stretch. So to speak.
More like a drive through!
I imagine the only way someone would pay would be for a bj just to shut her up. I guess that would be worth a dollar but I don’t know about finding the sixty men. lol
Yes! My time machine is working! Now I can go back in time to stop the Titanic from hitting that iceberg and therefore keep Celine Dion from singing that annoying song “My Heart Will Go On!”
She was on special. One hour one dollar. That minute she lost her only customer therefore her dollar. :P