Peep Show

I know you guys have all been waiting for this. Some have asked, some begged...all through e-mail, of course. I receive thousands of e-mails a day. I get so many that yahoo has accused me of being an inverse spammer whatever that means. I don't mean to brag, but I am pretty cool.

Most people have lists of 100, and that's pretty cute. My list has 100 million things. I'm not going to list them all out at once though, because I don't want anyone to feel bad about how cool my list is. Plus it's hard to think of them all at the same time. But I will need someone to kinda keep track of how many I've gone through. Maybe set up a web page for me...set up a Crystal Report that's emailed to my yahoo address weekly with a monthly summary. That would be sweet.

So on to the things. The first thing that people want to know is how many testicles I have. The short answer is three. The long answer is that one is made of and amalgam of iron and gold and heats up to a super temperature which makes my nut sack glow a hot, hot heat that can be seen from the moon when I'm naked, which is usually.

The three testicles create so much testosterone that my dog licked my balls once and got sick...just like Rod Stewart did...on stage...remember that? I caused that, too. Gallons of cum. Ladies, when I go I really go. And men, too. Men and ladies should know that about me. They had to pump his stomach, if you recall. He (Rod) told me later that it was worth all of it and he'd do it again, if I let him. I said no.

They (the man) saved the semen because it sparkled and started to form another life form...like in that movie with David Duchovney...remember that one? It eventually formed into the statue of David before it evaporated into a minty mist that invigorated everyone who caught a wiff of the fragrant haze.

I want to create an award and give it to my fellow bloggers. The name of the award will be....Paragon of Tarragon. The words will go in an arch above a pot leaf because I'm not sure what Tarragon looks like, though I have seen pot before. This has nothing to do with the three testicles. Totally unrelated. I tried to make the image today, but I'm a retard. Being a retard seriously hampers my day to day activities, but I do get by.

I'm kind of tired of revealing my secrets for now. I'm not sure how many of the 100 million this is because I can't count...past three, of course.

Now then. Take care of each other, and a word of advice I learned in the navy is to hold the person's hair when they are giving you a blow job, because blowing in someone's hair is two things: 1.) Usually not appreciated and 2.) Shit, I lost track of two. I think it was a warning, though. If I remember, I'll rectify it.

I love you. Especially you.