A rolling stone gathers no moss; A rolling rock gathers no...

20 November 2008

Big Greg


If you were to approach any middle-aged female and ask her about legendary post presence "Big" Greg Ostertag, they might tell you a few things. And those things would probably be insightful and perhaps perverse, but what they would fail to mention are Big Greg's humble beginnings. Let us flash back to March 6, 1973, the day that Big Greg was transported into this world via vaginal technology.

After Big Greg clawed his way out of that damp womb, his mother could tell he would always be husky young gent. From a very young age he actively peddled cereal variety packs, Ring Pops and cock rings. His bartering skills showed promise and he certainly had an affinity for the Super Mario Bros. animated series on PBS.

It wasn't long before Big Greg, shunned by the kids at school for his flat-top and horrendously long sperm stick, found refuge at the local arcade: Aladdin's Castle.

Day upon day upon night Big Greg could be found battling with various miscreants and scat freaks for tickets. "I want to buy the big Dumbo!" he would shriek, his voice exuding 60% agony and 40% excitement. The goth kids and grunge stoners would stare at this monster, now standing at 6'10" at the age of 15, wondering how they could "go all Gulliver's Travels on him and shit." Green Jelly and Jesus Jones poured out of their headphones like invisible rays of rancid milk before they all finally agreed to take dumps on Big Greg's Minnesota Northstars Starter jacket as it laid unsuspecting in the corner by the Skee-Ball machine.

And that was when Big Greg's life changed forever. As he stood outside Aladdin's Castle on that fateful day, feces smeared on the "N" on his jacket in such a manner that an average bystander might confuse his allegiance with that of the expansion Minnesota Backslashes, a man walked up to him.

"Do you party?" the middle-aged man asked Big Greg, wearing a tan Carhartt jacket with tiny flecks of what appeared to be semen.

Big Greg sniffled before replying, "Fuck yeah, pimp."

An instant friendship was born. Before long, Big Greg and Cum Jacket were spending all day playing the basketball shooting game at Aladdin's Castle. Big Greg became so skilled at the game that Cum Jacket hooked him up with a scholarship to play at Texas A&M, especially since Big Greg was also really into agriculture and mechanics. That plan was spoiled, however, when Big Greg and Cum Jacket committed several fairly serious acts of felony battery on the shit culprits on their last day at Aladdin's.

The two fled to the state of Kansas, where Big Greg quickly became a Jayhawk. He played and stuff and was eventually selected 28th overall in 1995 by the Utah Jazz. Finally Big Greg was rich. He proceeded to buy a brand new Dallas Stars Starter jacket (they moved) and began to dabble in homosexual affairs. After 11 unremarkable years in the NBA during which Big Greg averaged 4.6 points and 5.5 rebounds per game, he retired to a quiet life in Dubuque, Iowa, where he currently munches on mad bean pies and tugs his gonzo dick with reckless abandon.

-- Billy Boklit

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