if i was a Sleestak, I'd be the one in the bad mask with the 3 fingered glove that was allergic to bright lights

The best part about being married is that everyone is as miserable as I am.  It's a misery-loves-company-fuck-fest where nobody's getting fucked and the only sounds you hear are arguments about money and how to discipline the kids.

Life is pretty delicious, though, and it's Friday and if not for the 40 extra pounds I believe I could fly but that's neither here nor there.

Marriage is like being in an oncology office and you're looking around and everyone has cancer including you.  The newlyweds have easy cancers like pre-cancerous cells that the oncologist just blows on and they drift away.  My neighbor who's been married for a gazillion decades must have inoperable brain tumors all the way into space he's so married.  He's gonna die of it and it's gonna be soon.  To be fair, he is quite old and I seen him with a walker and that can't be a good sign.  If you're tooling about on a walker then watch your step and count your days, my friend.

The nice thing about cancer is it doesn't discriminate on body parts.  It'll eat the skin, the lungs, noses like what Micheal Jackson had, it goes for the pancreas like Steve Jobs had (has) (and did you ever wonder if he sold his soul to satan to get the stock price to 300 and all it cost him was his pancreas?), cancer will even eat your toes; it's an equal opportunity disaster.

Someone told me Bob Marley had to cancer which is pretty hard to believe but I guess I believe it about as much as that Rod Steward passed out and they had to pump his stomach and guess what it had 3 gallons of cum in it.

That's a lot of cum.  I'm not sure you could suck enough dicks to get that much cum.  You'd really have to save it up and then drink it but I'm not sure it'd make you pass out.

I like the Rod Stewart cum story because I don't particularly like Rod Stewart.  His music was ok for its time but his hair is really too poofy to like much.  Anyone with that poofy of hair you can see him guzzling 3 gallons of cum.

But the toe cancer is pretty retarded and you have to laugh at a guy who succumbs to it, even if it's the worst case of toe cancer anyone ever saw it's still pretty gay.  Plus all that weed, you'd think he'd go and get some good old fashioned lung cancer.

I don't smoke weed but it should be legal.

Anyway, I guess even old Achilles was brought down by a gay old toe wound.  Heel really but it's basically the same.

Where'd it get you, Achilles?

The heel...

Oh, you'll surv...

I suppose everyone is invulnerable until they're not.

Life's funny that way.

chicken enchiladas for dinner! omgomglol!!!! isn't it wonderful!!!>>>

I think I've figured out an objective argument against gay marriage which is nigh-unassailable from the god-forsaken left winger nut jubs who love Obama and hate America and want to tear it down and build in its place Taxutopia.  

Today is gay brainwash-all-your-kids-into-becoming-gay-pride-day, so-called grainwash or gainwash... or fuck it, I can't think of a good name to mock it, OK?  But consider it mocked if just not well-mocked.  

It's all over the facegooks.  People are saying gay this, gay that and it's almost more than I can stand.  I go there so I can see what people I barely know made their kids this weekend and milquetoast quotes from Einstein, and meaningless tests which tell me my personality type is a Virgo -- not more gay propaganda trying to turn me and my children (and especially your children) gay.  

That's not why I go there.  

To the facegooks.  

I go for boring status updates and sometimes Mafia Wars though I'm not sure why Mafia Wars because it's terrible, I guess I've just fallen into a bit of online rut, you know?  Pay for status refills?  Are you fucking nuts?  What jobber does that?  Who has the time let alone the money?  Right?

As well on some news site, some old fat dude in New York also says he didn't march in the gay parade and I'm pretty sure he didn't because he looks like he spit out a plug of chaw before he done the interview.

Too, he's apparently a builder and I'd be the last to say the gays can't build but... let's just say this guy isn't building lime-puce condos in soho, whatever that means (it means nothing cause I don't know what a soho is and I don't want to know what a soho is (except it sounds pretty gay, if you asked me which is why I will not go there. (ever. (lolj/k, it's a chic neighborhood in NYC which is expensive but has lovely art and exquisite, if highly expensive, real estate.  (So-called gaytopia.))))).  

Anywho, on that train of thought I said to myself... I can end this gay debate once and for all and I can use logic which is basically irrefutable except by religion and magic.  Sometimes you can let logic and magic and religion work together if the religion agrees with the logic... in that way you can have logic inside of religion.

It's like this... let's say I have a logic that says, Man in hat, earth is flat... and then I point to a man wearing a hat... in that way logic works with religion and magic (magic is very different from religion) because it accentuates the truth.

Now, follow me through this... it's not quite I think therefore I am (which makes no damn sense because who gives a fuck about that guy? (Cogito ergo sum?  WTF is that nonsense?  Quick question... English... learn it)).  

It's not quite like that at all... not nearly so meaningful but it bears some concentration like that Pythagoras theorem...

The crux of my argument is this... If god had meant for there to be gays he would have made Adam and STEVE, not Adam and Eve!  Now if we start from there, we can safely go here... did god create Adam and Steve?  No, he did not.  Therefore, no gay marriage.  Solved.

Not convinced?

Fine, look at it another way.  Are there gay Hindus?  No, there are not.  

Not enough proof?

Fine.

What about the Chinese... no gay Chinese...  I think it's technically illegal even though they don't exist.  Except maybe B.D. Wong... I think he might be gay...  Probably because nothing rhymes with B.D. Wong.

With some branches of logic, rhymes are very important.  Adam and Steve works in this case because Steve rhymes with Eve... Had it been Adam and Carol?  Less of an impact.  Espesh cause Carol could be a man or a woman.  It's ambiguous and it doesn't rhyme, see?  It's one of those names created by the gays to confuse us.  Carol is.  Not ambiguous, though it's not an easy word.   

Picture this, you're jackin it to a Carol (mmmmmmmmm sweet, sweet Carol Brady) and suddenly you find out that IT'S A MAN (that guy who played Archie Bunker who later went crazy and murdered that drug dealer but who cares, just a dead dealer)!!!!!

That's confusing to a young mind.

Let me sum up with this... Gay marriage?  disproved.

Plus, only jack it to solid girl names.

And you'll be safe and sane.

i'm pretty sure i spelled a lot wrong in this but the god damn machine isn't reporting errors

I seen you at the mini mall the other day.

I had my head buried in a magazine and my back was to the people as I looked at the magazines.  I was wearing that old green army trench coat and my disco shorts that you love so well and I had my head buried in a new magazine of Us even though I have a subscription to Us Magazine.

It was buried in the US magazine and it was the Snooki Upskirt special and I didn't even know what there was a Snooki but sure I took a peep just for posterity that I seen what there is to be seen and I must tell you that I've never been so glad to look away from an upskirt special as I was that day when I seen you in the gabardine jumpsuit you were wearing. 

Fine, I'll admit that I had seen a Snooki earlier in some magazine or in some site if that makes you happy.  She's technically a midget though she's not all squatty like most midgets but I think she'd have a good career in midget mud wrestling or maybe the hottest midget pron star since the 8th century.

She's a whorrid abhoration and I loathe looking at her.  If we were stuck on a deserted island, even a nice one, I would use her for tallow.

You looked ravishing, in your way.  The color of gaberdine really flares off your eyes and the jumpsuit style is rocketing back like the ever exanding speed of space, or faster.

Faster, that's how fast your jumpsuit is going to be cool again.

Jauntily slung over your jump was your beige or a light beige cashmiere sweater.  Perhaps it was a modest taupe.  I couldn't tell if you were going for an ironic off beige but it looked pretty good.  It would have looked better in a whore house but you done fine with it, don't fret.

I knew it was you because you was picking your nose out in public like you like to do, like nobody can see you but I saw you as I gazed out of the Upskirt issue using my all-seeing eye which is located just beneath my left eye but when I look at my face in the mirror I always imagine it's the right side.  It could be on account of a brain tumor which I'm suspecting has been growing on the right side of my brain in a small hollow where grand thoughts are created.  I can feel a hollow and when I close my left eye I can almost see strands of tumor.  It's directly behind my right eye.  I've looked it up on the innernest and it's a diagnosed fact.

I try not to use the all-seeing eye because it gives me acne when I do and I typically choose beauty over knowledge any day of the week, particularly when it comes to me and mine.

Anyway, I seen you and I know it was you on account of the nose pick and you didn't think anyone noticed but I did.  You approached it as you always do, like you have a small itch on the rim of your nostril and then you went shockingly deep, thumb diving down like you were trying to rescue miners in a busted up mine and I'll be a liar if I wasn't shocked (at your bravery and skill) and that there was an actual booger on the tip of the retrieval with a comet-like tail of streaming comet snot trailing behind like it was in orbit.

I seen you eye it with some satisfaction and I can appreciate that, it was a job well done if a queer spot to do such shenanigans and then your arm dropped subtly to your jumper and I have to tell you that you wiped the boogs on the gaberdine jump suit and I'd wash it if I were you before I wore that again.