Friday, June 30, 2006

This is the way we wash our clothes, blow our nose, blow our ho's

I gained over five pounds in fat Florida and now I'm too ugly to look at. Look away. Florida has some kind of process wherein the fat rays are pumped into you whilst you sleep and whilst you hide from the too cruel sun.

Florida, dear Florida,
that's where they learn
the flights are Boston
but not the dreams

So in my dream I'm a cop and I need dna evidence on the 2 guys who are maintenance dudes in my building and I tell this guy who is standing in front of work that I need their dna.

This guy who's wearing a baseball cap tells me that these to maintenance dudes are always paying him for sex and blow jobs and such and pulls out a ziploc baggie with the semen of one of the suckee maintenance dudes and then a cellophane wrapper filled with the dribbles of semen extracted from the informants ass.

Now I know I'm a little more gay each and every day but I wonder if law enforcement is in my future.

Is that a reasonable thing to do? Trap your lover's semen in cellophane from a cig pack?

I would consider that a violation but sometimes I'm a little bit broken in the wrong ways.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

The Jersey Germ will eat you bad

A lot of members of the liberal media, I've been noticing, have been going on and on about what happens if flies become zombies and start attacking humans.

I just want to reassure you that this is a load of bullcrap.

For one, they'll fly real slow. Like a winter fly who's pregnant with baby maggots. You can just swat it.

It'll be all looking for your brains to eat and then you could just kill it. Problem solved.

Second, we all know that it takes a zombie to actually bite you for the zombie to spread.

People, flies gots no teefs. You dig me?

They can spit on your head, and that would surely suck, but they cannot bite.

Thirdly, they'll mostly live in Florida where all the other bad things are. If you don't live in Florida you're totally safe from the zombie fly sitchy.

So liberal media, get your dicks out of our mouths. We're smarter than that.

Welcome home, darling.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Sex is no fun without you

So, good news. The skinny pretty one is back at Blimpe. I wondered if the fat one had eaten her when very hungry as she must get, but I guess she was on vacation. But she's very nice, the fat one. Not the skinny one, she's mean but she can be.

I think a good idea for an invention is a vagina helmet like the ones that the sea divers wear but a vagina.

The only thing that I can't figure out is how to breathe mucous.

I know what you're thinking. Why not just make a nostril helmet. My answer is this: why don't you leave me alone and build your own damn helmet? Do you think it's easy being a famous inventor who figures out how to breathe mucous? Do you think nose mucous is the same as vaginal mucous? Did you ever think of that?

I'm going on some short leave soon. I know this saddens you but I'll braid your hair when I get back.

Sorry about yelling about the mucous thing. I have been kinda stressed out with the world cups on.

My team Trinidad and Tobago is not doing as well as I thought. Trinidad looks sharp but fucking Tobago...ya know? Do they think the world cups are around every year? It's like they just don't care. I may have to root for...Uzbekistan or someone. I'm just not sure.

Have a nice weekend/week/etc.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Dear Florida, remember when you fought with the south during the Civil War? That was a bad decision.

So, bad news--apparently, gorillas have no pubic hairs. The fur around their little areas is allegedly called, "fur."

My plan to make paintbrushes out of gorilla pubes has been quashed by this bad dash of bad luck.

I think an artist who had an angle of painting their stuff with the pubes of gorillas would have been a surefire win.

On the good side of the rainbow, though, it proves that Darwin was wrong. If we evolved from anything, it probly had not only back hair but also pubes. Suck it, Darwin, God wins again! Yay, Jesus!

That would be a fun cheer.

Go, go, God and Jesus! Then they do the jumping and the splits with pompoms.

Please record you doing that and send it to me and I'll make a God collage and send it to heaven.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

When I say it twice, the second time is hate

I think that after Alec Baldwin and Kim Basinger's daughter dies from a heroin overdose after a short life of banging homeless men in a bus stop, they are going to look back and just laugh and laugh about their behavior.

I know I will.

Here is the formula for converting steam into energy. Please don't sell it to Iran.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/math/3/6/f/36fda0295014611608f1ddd9060d5feb.png

Monday, June 12, 2006

Sleestak dance attack

I think if you took gallons of vomit and made a little boy out of it and called him Vomit Boy and then taught him to dance like a robot, you'd have quite a little discovery on your hands.

But I bet he would stink. And swear. And I'll bet the birds would peck at his meaty bits until he was nothing but bile and guano.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Summertime and the livin is easy

Long hours was the labor spent
by the Basedow on the removing
of hair from the sleek and slender torso.
Shaving with straight edged razor,
long clean and careful strokes
with well-honed love-blade

The man cry from one day's traic
slip that sent the blade deep
into unscathed flesh and rent
the nip from the very honed pec
did shake the walls of the
very land that Basedow called home.

Walk he did down dusty path
in a great and mighty rage and
all did run from his wroth for fear
of a fel blow from the hammer-handed
meat fist of the six minute man.

Unquenced his anger from the death
of friend and foe alike when there
in the middle of a village road
stands yon horse face lass of some
undetermined age and a visage of
stone and a gleaming heart of solid
gold and she spake, rage not, Basedow
but follow my path of compassion
or watch your heart rot into the worms
of putried putrescense.

Whom are you, asks Basedow and runs to
break her into one thousand tiny pieces
and as they grapple he finds her lean
bone strong and wirey and realizes the
horse face was not mere show but she was
in fact, part horse. I am Coulter
the Compassionate she panted and on they
wrestled into weeks and years but never
as a sexual way would wrestle for he
was allegedly gay and she allegedly as
the very fish of the sea, cold with deep
compassion.

After besting her, as men are to do unto
the women who shew wisdom unto them they
became friends as the very brokebacks but
not exactly like that as before I told you
he was gay and did not touch the flesh of
women, exspeshelly the cold ones and she
showed him to love others and he did learn
and the loss of the nipple became a badge
of the very courage and love of mankind
and he raged no more.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Chicken cordon jew

I went to the ballet, last night, and I'll be damned if there wasn't a blind woman there. Cane and all.

I bet her family tricked her and told her it was the symphony.

I bet she hates the ballet but kinda digs on the symphony. I also hope she got half price on the ticket because, damn.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Pooing in the Hoods

Bad news.

I thought my doctoral thesis would write itself but it turns out that Forgiveness in the Muslim World was a difficult topic for a 100 page paper.

Maybe I'll change subjects. The Catholics Love for the Jews circa 1940. That, or Hey, Jehova's Witnesses, Get off my Lawn (Everyone knows you're crazy but you and Tom Cruise (and Utah and Idaho)).

Monday, June 05, 2006

Asscycles are a bad invention I made

Who would steal a baby?

They're a lot of work. They're always saying, "Look dad, I pooped my pants!" But in crying-jag format.

Then you're supposed to say, "Yes, baby, that's wonderful! That's a well formed and pretty poop in spite of it being mushed in there!" whilst you clean the poop from the bum.

Stealing a baby is like mowing your neighbor's lawn for free. And then bagging the grass.

All of this comes to me from books which I read and translate into pig latin.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Grabba Grabba crap music

What's funny is that one day Pamela Anderson will be Grammela Anderson in just about a few years.

I can sorta picture it now, "Grammela, tell me about when you were giving grandpa head and he was recording it on the camera while you were driving down the road and then how it got leaked to the innernet so that everyone could watch. That's my favorite story."

Girls, if anyone tells you that they wanna record the bjs, don't let them. This is your only warning.

Unless I say it. When I record bjs it's so I can watch them later to have proof of how much you loved me.

I'll never sell them to the innernet and that's truf.