Dirty Fingers

boredom + filthy mind = this:









Isn't it fantastically disgusting?!? I love it. And the possibilities are only as limited as your imagination. Don't put any hair on it, and it's Lindsay Lohan! Then add a c-section scar, and it's Britney Spears! Now remove the scar, add some red dots, and you've got Paris Hilton! Or make one on each hand, and have them scissor--LiLo and SamRo! The fun never ends.

Once Upon A Time

The only girlfriend I ever had was when I was 11. It lasted a couple weeks, and the most we did was go to a movie together. I was surprised when I got a note from her in school one day stating that she had "seen my true colors." Bitch. What does that even mean for an 11-year-old? Was I stingy with my markers? Or did I suck too bad at dodgeball? It's not like I tried to steal second base or anything. Maybe she saw my rainbow before I even knew it was there. She's a full-on dyke now. Irony.

The Wheels on the Bus

I was on the bus today, and some jackass who boarded reeked of Abercrombie cologne. Eau du Douche, and not French douche as in shower. Douche as in -bag. It makes me think of the horrible few weeks that I worked there. I was a stockboy slave and had to work many of my shifts until 2 a.m. It was a terrible environment, the pay was shit, and employees hated it (managers included, I really pitied them). I remember seeing a laminated sheet detailing how to odorize the store with the FIERCE room spray. It came in big bottles because you were supposed to use half a bottle every day. There were diagrams showing how close you need to place the bottle when you spray it on EVERY single mannequin, display, and pile of clothing. Customers would regularly complain to me that the smell gave them headaches and affected their allergies. Sorry, but there are three things you're gauranteed when entering an Abercrombie & Fitch store: an overwhelming FIERCE smell, unnecessarily loud dance remixes of songs that should never have been mixed, and pretension. I vividly remember using the employee bathroom in the stock area. Someone took such a toxic, punishing dump that I could smell it from the sales floor. On the policy poster that was curiously hung in the bathroom, someone had changed the name of the company to Fagercrombie and Fitch, and no one cared enough to do anything about it the whole time I worked there. I found it funny and took a picture of it with my phone, but thinking back, maybe I should have sued them. My time there ended when I left early one day and didn't go back. I just didn't want to! I figured I could easily get some other shitty temporary job. From then on, I avoided the store like the plague whenever I was at that particular mall. Then I remembered they still owed me a paycheck, and they didn't do direct deposit. I waited long enough that maybe they would forget who I was. The employee turnover there is sky-high anyway, but I had to do the walk of shame through the store, ducking behind clothes racks to get to the backroom and retrieve what turned out to be a measly thirty-five dollars.

On the subject of the bus. When I got on today, out of the corner of my eye I saw a little old man at the very front. He had a cane: the kind with four supports at the bottom for extra balance I guess. His cane was wrapped with a ribbon of Santa Clause so that from far away, it looked like a candy cane!!! So cute. Then when he turned around, I realized he was actually pretty young, I'm guessing 30. His grizzly beard and small stature misled me. I think he had MD. Or MS. Maybe a palsy? I don't know. If something is medical and not in the realm of vagina, I am ironically lost. Anyway, it was adorable.

That reminds me of this one time I saw a hot midget. I'm sorry, little person. We were walking in opposite directions on the sidewalk, and he was so fine! He had a very handsome face, "normal" torso, and disproportionate arms and legs. He was wearing a suit and tie, and I like to think he was on his way home from his successful career as. . . I don't know, something only big people are traditionally good at. But in that brief moment of passing each other, I imagined our lives together complete with picket fences and stepladders.

I Heart Slang

Anybody who knows me knows that I find the humor in every situation. Abortions included. Please to read:
Falcon Punch :
The act of intentionally punching a pregnant female in the stomach, so as to cause miscarriage. Shouting the phrase "Falcon PUNCH!" is optional.
Man A: "Oh man, I got this chick pregnant..."
Man B: "How about I do you a favor and give her the ol' Falcon Punch?"

OR as I like to call it, THE ANGELMAKER!

A Ballad About Female Genital Mutilation

This is something I started a long time ago, but never got far into until tonight.
*thanks go to CK for the title and 1st half of the chorus*
This is a very special song about female circumcision to the tune of Plain White T's' "Hey There Delilah." Thanks to a CS105 class I cheated my way through in college, I'm quite competent at copying and tailoring html code, so here is an instrumental version of the song (start singing in your head 10 seconds into it):

"Cleaver to My Clit"

The Serengeti was so peaceful, oh so quiet
Buffalo roamed in the place
I called my home and were my diet
Life is tough
So is the meat, I've had enough
My time is up

I'd like to move and
Go to Oprah Winfrey's school
But my father, he says no
It costs too much to buy a mule
Wish I were grown
Then I could strike out on my own
This makes me moan

Oh cleaver to my clit
But they let me keep my tits
Oh it's such misery
To have a clitorectomy
A clitorectomy

And then my tribe says
It is time to be a woman
There's a little extra part
You'll have to part with very soon
Put the dolls down
Spread your legs, get on the ground
It's over now

I fear the butcher
While he tries to comfort me
He says it only hurts a little
But will burn when you go pee
I'll miss it so
Tiny mound of flesh I hardly know
Say it ain't so

Oh cleaver to my clit
But they let me keep my tits
Oh it's such misery
To have a clitorectomy

They chopped it off, and it flew far
Now all that's left is an ugly scar
And a throbbing phantom pain between down there
The blade was dull and smelled like rust
Another man I'll never trust
The sight of one will now cause such a scare
A silent tear rolls down my cheek
And I've decided I need to seek
A place where I can start to become whole
And mend my soul

So now my sexual
Relations are for function
I've no sense of what is pleasurable
Even when they're munching on my cunt
I'll find a good man on my hunt
Who doesn't see me as a machine
To breed his children and to clean
I miss my bean

Oh cleaver to my clit
But they let me keep my tits
Oh it's such misery
To have a clitorectomy
Clitorectomy

Is it wrong to make fun of dead people?

Sadly, I'm a foolish enough sheep to watch MTV's A Double Shot at 15-Minutes-of-Fame, I mean Love. Kandice "Kandi" Hutchinson was rejected on last night's episode by two skanky bisexual broads known as the Ikki Twins. She was a makeup artist whom Tyra Banks would probably refer to as "plus size." Meaning, she had a totally normal body, but looked huge compared to the praying mantis competition. She sobbed in her exit interview, "I have so much to offer. I have a really good heart--it's there--it's so big. Maybe it's a little bit hidden." Well maybe she meant "enlarged" instead of "big." And I can imagine how obscuring GGG tits can be. Vikki and Rikki (apparently "Rikki" comes from the name Erica) have already kicked off all the people of color, so why not go after the fatties? HEY! Are any of you tools or lesbots Jews? You're next!

Kandi died in a car crash October 21st shortly after production on the show wrapped, and MTV edited her scenes to limit how much of her outrageous behavior aired. Why? If she's a crazy bitch, show us just how crazy. What could be in the unaired footage that would change the audience's opinion of a boozy, slutty mess? She must have been lighting orphans on fire and punching pregnant women in the belly. Maybe she was shitting on cars and paying bums to fight each other. Or worse!

Let it be known that I found out she died after I planned to write this. Not that it would have stopped me from posting. And I did get the whole burning orphans thing out of it. . . so thanks, Kandi?

Crotchfruit

I ran into an old friend today. By "old" I don't mean aged and rickety, just that I've known her for a while. Actually she could totally use some botox and a little plumping, but the point is that she told me she was "expecting." Expecting what? I had no idea what she was talking about. Maybe it's because she's always been a lil' thick and had cankles, so I couldn't tell she was four months pregnant. After an awkward pause and a realization on my part, I tried to figure out what to say. "Um, congrats on accomplishing what thousands of unwed teenage badgirls do every year?" Or maybe, "Ooooh, I'm sorry. Will you be going to a doctor to take care of it or the good old-fashioned method of throwing yourself down the stairs? I myself am a traditionalist." Then she felt the need to tell me that it happened on their first try. Thanks. I really needed to know that, Fertile Myrtle. I said, "you know what that makes me think of? Your vagina. You know what I hate thinking about. . . your. . . vagina." I think I ruined her day. Anyway, she's expecting twatvomit in May. I'm expecting her to scream, cry, and shit the bed.

Leave Them Street 'Mones Alone

David Cook looks like a female-to-male transexual in the worst way possible.
Glued pubes on the face do not a man make.

BWNHI

My coworker is my favorite kind of person. A sassy black woman. Let's call her Shawnda. If you want something done, there's nothing like a black woman NOT HAVING IT. Is your Starbucks order taking too long? Get you a BWNHI. Does it look like that asshole over there is talking shit about you? (doesn't matter if he is or not) BWNHI. Is that cop giving you a speeding ticket? Well, let it go, because BWNHI might get you arrested. We discuss this all the time. We decided that black people and Jews have a special bond because we learn about persecution at such a young age. We were at a work dinner last night when someone (whitewhitewhite) told Shawnda that Atlanta was "like Hollywood for the blacks." We just looked at each other like "is this bitch for real?" There are just some things you can't say. I think I'll go tell Shawnda "I love your people!"

Breathing Finger Cozy

Let's consider someone like Paris Hilton for a moment, hmm? She's ugly. Don't get me wrong, I like her, and I think she's much smarter than she lets on. But daymn. She's crazy wealthy and has surely had access to cosmetic surgeries her whole life. I'm sure she's had plenty, and THAT is how she ends up? Her eyes alone look like a fucking Picasso.

She is to' the fuck up and seven kinds of busted. Which begs the question--what must she have looked like before any procedures? I'll tell you: Sloth from The Goonies--with a bad weave.