Sunday, February 28, 2010

Happy Birthday, Brady!


The tinkle of broken glass and drunken laughter fills the air as you reach for the closest empty bottle of Bud Light (buy American!). DD’s hand closes around yours, sending a jolt of desire through your body. He flings the bottle off the balcony at someone he could only assume was a filthy Mexican living in this great country illegally, but really it is just a shitty faggot neighbor who likes to self-tan. DD kisses you roughly and pulls you into his bedroom. He wastes no time in unzipping his Levi jeans and pulling his thick cock out of his American flag boxers. He shoves it down your throat, making you swallow every inch of his country sausage. He pumps away mercilessly, then pulls out and beats you while calling you “Rodney King.” You go back to work on his sweet member as he pulls on his pointy white hood. DD increases his pace as he slams himself into your wide open mouth. He tilts his head up to look at the poster of George W. Bush he has fixed on his ceiling for just these occasions. He winks at it, rams his cock past your lips two more times and pulls out, telling you to get ready for the fireworks. He spurts all over your face, somehow ejaculating red, white and blue; he yells “party in the U.S.A.!”

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Do The Right thing


"YOU JUST KILLED A HOBO!"


That's what I heard a little kid say to one of his family members at dinner tonight. Apparently he felt strongly that not finishing all the food on one's plate would be responsible According to him, a "hobo" is a person who doesn't have a car. Well, fuck you. You're a hobo too, you little pedestrian bastard.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Oh This One Too

I neglected to post this one. The more I watch, the more ingenius I realize all these dubs are. Some fantastic quotes:

"Yeah, we'll fuck him, rob him, then we'll go to Sizzler."
"Holy shitchrist on a cross."
"Out where they fuck, out where they suck, out where there's an endless supply of cocks that want to pee all over me, god I'm a whore."
"But if you lick my clit. . .don't forget. . . to also lick my asshole."
"This is the motherfucking dress I'm going to get motherfucking gangbanged in tonight."
"Fuuuuck. I can eat my own puuuussy."
"I'm on a motherfucking camel in the motherfucking desert."
"One day when you least suspect it, you WILL shit on me."
"You know the rules, only live things go in my pussy and only dead things come out."
"Faggots hate babies, and babies hate faggots. Everyone knows that."
"I prefer 'self-induced miscarriages.'"
"Let's go pro-choice a baby out of a bitch."



Your Life Story

Monday, February 22, 2010

Baby Jesus Smiles Upon Us


A few days ago I tweeted my love for Traci Lords and wondered if she had a Twitter account. A friend of mine who works for Twitter kindly replied today that she does indeed have an account. Let's get our shit together, folks, and everyone follow her. Traci Lords is a national fucking treasure and should be treated as such. If you don't have a Twitter account, start one just so you can follow her. You don't have to use it ever except to glance at her radiant visage every so often.

I first discovered her when I saw a movie in 1996 called Nowhere. It's trashy, funny and fantastic, and is one of my favorite movies to this day. She has a cameo as part of a trio of valley girls consisting of herself, Rose McGowan and (The Monster) Shannen Doherty. They get zapped to nothing by an alien lizard creature, by the way. The point is that she was striking, and I HAD to know who she was. Her story is a crazy one. By the time she was 18, she had allegedly starred in over 100 adult films. Only one of those was filmed when she was 18, making it the sole legal remnants of her young porn career (in the U.S. at least). She had been writing her own scripts and developed a production company, proving she wasn't just another pornographic actress.

She made the move to mainstream television and films, and has had a plethora of roles. She also tried to crack into the music business. I found that I still have three of her songs in my collection. It's dance or house or trance music, I don't fucking know the difference, and it's. . . well, not so great. But she gets an A for effort!

There's also some juicy controversy about how she may have allegedly tipped off the authorities herself in order to gain immunity to prosecution. I bought her autobiography when it came out a few years ago, and I heartily recommend it, even though it may be a big bag of bullshit. It doesn't matter, I will always have a special place in my cold, black heart for this ho, as should you.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

In Dreams


I had a dream that my friend Brady and I were vampires, and we were searching for a companion to turn and spend our lives with. We could go in the sun and everything, but thankfully we were not sparkly. It was fun, I was jumping off buildings and such.


Then the dream shifted to my family throwing me a surprise wedding to Robert Pattinson, whom I had been dating. Only, on the invitations they referrred to him as "Mr. Edward 'Ice' Cullen," and I was pissed that they put the wrong name. Note that I never once saw him in the dreams.

Sloppy Bitches



At the movie theater last night, 7/8 of all girls were wearing Uggs and either leggings or skin-tight jeans. The other 1/8 were wearing sweatpants and Uggs. Get it together, bitches. The particular group in front of me was lead by a girl who might have been Snooki.



Monday, February 15, 2010

To My Friend On Her Birthday


Happy birthday, Lila! I love you this much:


His choppy hair brushes your eyelashes as you tenderly kiss him. You move it out of the way so you can peer admiringly into his eyes lined with makeup. He gets a little annoyed because he spent over twenty minutes flat ironing it to its asymmetrical perfection this morning. You get the point and move down his torso, pulling up his black and white striped shirt. You gently kiss his navel, but he shies away because the safety pin piercing he gave himself last week is still quite sensitive. With great difficulty, you undo his studded leather belt with your teeth then begin the arduous task of removing his skin-tight black jeans. After some time and not a little sweat, you peel off the leggings that were beneath the pants. You eye the throbbing bulge of his crotch hungrily and tear off his pink and white women’s-style briefs. His erect cock bursts free and wags at you as you notice his completely shaved pubes and balls. Look at this fucking hipster.

So Wrong



You throw your head back in ecstasy and moan like a wild man. You haven’t gotten a blowjob like this in ages. You lick your lips and grind faster as you work your way toward release. Shoving your pulsing member as far as it will go down the willing throat, you scream as you fill the mouth with your white hot love. You slump back on the bed, sated, while your partner puts the dentures back in her wrinkled mouth. You have never loved your grandmother as much as you do right now.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Goodnight, Moon


This is my effort in response to Brady's short story:

You catch my eye across the restaurant. I nod toward the restroom and you follow me into a stall, locking the door behind us. You waste no time removing my pants and swallowing my cock all the way down. You gag, but I grab you by your hair and won’t let you up for air. You keep gagging, and then you spew vomit all over my junk and my shoes. Is that celery?

Bedtime Story



We were discussing erotic stories and what we don't like about them. I said that I hated when the author created characters and inserted them into existing fictional environments where you are obviously supposed to pretend you are him. This brought my friend to write a short story in the second person (something we find particularly irksome). Here it is in all its concise glory:


You walk into the room and sit down. I approach you and put my hand on your leg. I tell you to close your eyes. You smile trusting me completely. I slowly rub the cool cylinder against your skin. I tell you to open wide. I place the thick barrel in your mouth and pull the trigger. Story over.


Isn't that fantastic?

It Started With A Dare, Part Trois

It finally occurred to me what a great and funny scenario Twilight would be!




Now this isn't quite what I wanted to post, but I had some trouble trying to get the first one up, so it wouldn't let me repost the original. I had to tweak the wording, so it's not quite what I was going for, but acceptable nonetheless. Oh, and this is what the original picture was going to be:





But guess what? NO ONE replied! Not a single response. What the hell? "I want to suck your. . . cock" is great! Come on, son!

It Started With A Dare, Part Deux


This was my friend's entry today, and I think it's rather impressive.


I can take credit for finding the picture and the line about Master Splinter, thank you very much. He actually got several responses. One was from a "masseur" offering a free first massage because he wants to build his clientele. I think that one might have been fake. Then there was another kid who was interested, but didn't want to dress up or anything, so he was lame. Brady offered to let him be Casey Jones, but I think that's where it ended. Then there was the older man. He was cool with being Master Splinter. Seriously. He was totally down. It got so detailed, that we started to feel bad. He was really into it. Oh well, it was hilarious.

Happy Valentime's


From one hooker to another.

It Started With A Dare

This is how it began:

Brady: ok


Brady: I dare you to post an outrageous craigslist



Brady: like that



Brady: For example.....



Brady: Headline: Looking for Older Bea Arthur type



me: i love it already



Brady: Golden Girls fetish. You be Dorthy and I'll be young Mario Lopez who doesn't want to go back to Mexico



Brady: You enter my paper in a local essay contest to have me deported because you are secretly molesting me



Brady: Must bring cheesecake to eat out of my ass while I scream YES PUSSY CAT


And this is the result:








My friend was even nice enough to provide the picture for the post. I'll also include the second place picture that didn't quite make the cut. It seemed to have posted, but I didn't receive any responses. Sadness :(




I think today we'll try a Harry Potter themed post.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

A Present For Your Saturday



And I like this comment:

Sorry, this is NOT gay. As an expert on gay things:
A: Three gay guys do not share two shower heads unless they're serious
B: None of them are tanned enough
C: Their Speedos don't match
D: A drag queen would have choreographed the head-bobbing until it was TITE
E: There are no back-up dancers
F: No crotch close-ups

Friday, February 12, 2010

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Happy Birthday!


Happy 41st Birthday, Jennifer Anniston! Here's to another sad, loveless year of your biological clock ticking away ominously.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Textual Intercourse


me: whoa. is that the zombie of brittany murphy?


brewster: god only knows


me: bitch was SO hungry she came back from the dead for a nibble


brewster: hahaha


brewster: she was a mess


brewster: clearly that girl didn't have a gay friend or he would have talked her out of that catastrophe


me: OR he was the one like "no, girl, you don't need to eat. you look like a fierce skeleton."

This Is Exactly What I'm Talking About!


No Babies

This is the picture that should be printed on all condom boxes:

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Nazi Say What?


My G-Ma has all these mats in her house positioned around entryways. They are patterned in such a way that, when aligned correctly, they form swastikas. Every time I'm there and I notice one, I reposition them. I think her handyman/housekeeper must be putting them back. I think it's his passive way of saying "fuck you old lady, I have a PhD."

In Dreams



I had a dream I was in a dark alley and three guys were harassing another man. The other man was asking me to help him, but I had the feeling he was actually one of them and trying to lure me over, so I said I couldn't help him. Then he got scared, pulled out money and offered it to me to help. I ran away. Then the guys started chasing me, and I was convinced they were going to try to rape me. Then I found myself at some crazy event that I guess was a gay pride gathering. There were innumerable tents covered with colorful cloths, and I was flying among them talking to people. I stole purple glitter tic-tacs from some girl. Then I ended up in the kids' section, and there was a little boy dressed as Velma from Scooby Doo. There was also a boy smurf there in drag. He was dressed in a red sequins jumpsuit with matching pumps.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Doodle #something


Doppletranny



Dee Dee Bridgewater is on the cover of this month's Jazz Times pumping a heavy Kevin Aviance look. I can just hear her doing a scat version of "Cunty."


Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Happy Birthday!

It might as well be your special day, because this video is an amazing gift. Please pay attention to the lyrics and watch the whole thing undistractedly.


Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Oh Yeah, By The Way


I dropped that shitty master cleanse. I lasted four days. While it was a failure, I think I did learn a lesson. I don't have to snack. I usually have a bowl of cereal for breakfast, and if I do have lunch, sometimes I have fast food. But not too often. Because I don't generally eat a lot during the work day, I snack often afterward. I've learned to be able to deal with feeling hungry for a while and that it's not the end of the world. Plus I need to start working out. Srsly.