"It's my belief that my big balls should be held every night."*
ah...i've been negligent. tis true, this blogging thing may have been a 2 year flash in the pan. and let me tell you, that's a long time to be standing in cookware with nothing but a trench coat.** but, i believe it's time for me to sink back in. how do i know it's time? well, see, i've got these thoughts i feel i should share with you. right now i'm certain that you are all gripping....well gripping something in eager anticipation for the bountiful truths that i will bestow upon you.
firstly, it occurred to me the other day that if you have a bizarre fetish, not your run of the mill foot fetish, or dom/sub fetish, or even pee fetishes, not the hirsutes or even pony play types, i'm talking throw up fetishes or caprophagia or dress up like a giant baby and be spanked with spatulas by a woman dressed like the wicked witch of the west while singing bay city rollers songs offkey with a twang of elvis, that if you find someone who shares this interest you pretty much have to marry them right on the spot, cuz the chances of you ever finding someone else is pretty slim.
that may have been the most perverse run-on sentence ever. so, i was having a rather long drawn out and painfully trying day and then i came home and found a check for me by my car insurance telling me that i get money back. woohoo!!! actually, it's been a trying week/month/year etc...etc... you know it's bad when mice are shitting in your crockery. let me tell you how much that pleased me. Not....At....All. they even went into the silverware drawer and chewed holes into the balls of the penis straws. and don't ask why there were penis straws, i blame Handjob Whiskey Jackson for that.
secondly, or thirdly, depending on how one counts these things, i have found a potential flaw in my theory that everything that any living thing does supports one of two purposes, that being survival of the individual and survival of the species. the problem is, gossip. what purpose does that serve? i've been giving it some thought and might have an answer. other than the one that says my theory is tripe. i'll wait to see if anyone out there has an answer.
the other day i was at the pharmacy purchasing some pharmaceuticals and decided i would look for some q-tips. i mean, doesn't that sound like something that would be in a pharmacy? nothing, nowhere, no cotton swabs or any of their ilk. thwarted by some marketing flaw.
ok, i smell my baked/fried chicken wafting so, ima go eat yo.
here watch this tampon ad.
or this big fish.
conan makes me laugh. alot
dawn of the dead game
* let's see what sort of traffic that brings.
** did people really ever skulk about in nothing but a trench to show off the goods? do people still do that? i mean, besides the guy with a shiv tucked in his colon.
firstly, it occurred to me the other day that if you have a bizarre fetish, not your run of the mill foot fetish, or dom/sub fetish, or even pee fetishes, not the hirsutes or even pony play types, i'm talking throw up fetishes or caprophagia or dress up like a giant baby and be spanked with spatulas by a woman dressed like the wicked witch of the west while singing bay city rollers songs offkey with a twang of elvis, that if you find someone who shares this interest you pretty much have to marry them right on the spot, cuz the chances of you ever finding someone else is pretty slim.
that may have been the most perverse run-on sentence ever. so, i was having a rather long drawn out and painfully trying day and then i came home and found a check for me by my car insurance telling me that i get money back. woohoo!!! actually, it's been a trying week/month/year etc...etc... you know it's bad when mice are shitting in your crockery. let me tell you how much that pleased me. Not....At....All. they even went into the silverware drawer and chewed holes into the balls of the penis straws. and don't ask why there were penis straws, i blame Handjob Whiskey Jackson for that.
secondly, or thirdly, depending on how one counts these things, i have found a potential flaw in my theory that everything that any living thing does supports one of two purposes, that being survival of the individual and survival of the species. the problem is, gossip. what purpose does that serve? i've been giving it some thought and might have an answer. other than the one that says my theory is tripe. i'll wait to see if anyone out there has an answer.
the other day i was at the pharmacy purchasing some pharmaceuticals and decided i would look for some q-tips. i mean, doesn't that sound like something that would be in a pharmacy? nothing, nowhere, no cotton swabs or any of their ilk. thwarted by some marketing flaw.
ok, i smell my baked/fried chicken wafting so, ima go eat yo.
here watch this tampon ad.
or this big fish.
conan makes me laugh. alot
dawn of the dead game
* let's see what sort of traffic that brings.
** did people really ever skulk about in nothing but a trench to show off the goods? do people still do that? i mean, besides the guy with a shiv tucked in his colon.
Comments
Be careful about the flashing the pan, pubes stink when they're on fire, this I know...
...don't ask.
this post made me laugh. a lot.
forgot about the penis straws. who knows what else i left behind. perhaps i should retrieve them and put them in my new silverware drawer. my new roommates still don't know me very well.
ruk- kind of you to say. though i suspect that cosmos and i are at odds. i blame it on carl sagan
sara- too late, them rodents chomped right through the little plastic nutsacks (not to be mistaken with ruksaks) and they became one with the outgoing trash.