You’ve been out all day. Running errands, trudging through rush hour traffic, counting the 37 items the asshole at the grocery store has in his cart while he fumbles for exact change in the express register.
It’s called express for a reason, motherfucker.
You ate a big breakfast before you left the solitude and comfort of your home. Drank lots of coffee. You were going to be out all day. You didn’t want to get hungry. You needed the energy. Stopping for lunch wasn’t an option. No time. It’s your only day off.
Halfway through your Things to Do, you notice the familiar rumblings of the fudge factory revving its engines. You know it’s only a matter of time before the prophecies of the ancient scroll Everyone Poops come true, and the Gods of Guano* sound the Call of the Colon — the Bellow of the Bowels breaks the Seventh Seal of the Sphincter and the rectum rush becomes too much to contain. Continue reading
Sometimes I watch porn bloopers, because nothing masks the shame of jerking it to a chick with daddy issues getting railed quite like jerking it to a chick with daddy issues getting railed and totally fucking up the shoot somehow.
And then I started thinking about ideal porn blooper scenarios. The ones that, if there were an America’s Funniest Home Videos for porn, would win the $10,000 and go on to the $100,000 grand finale.
You know how if you’re eating or drinking something and you start laughing, that particular thing has the possibility of shooting out of your nose?
Okay, so what if there’s a chick going down on some dude, and just as he’s going Number Three in her mouth, he says something really out of character or funny, or maybe he tells her a quick joke in the process. You know, a little workplace humor. Because everyone loves workplace humor.
So he tells her this joke, and it’s really funny. And I mean really fucking funny. So funny that she laughs so hard jizz shoots out of her nose.
Oh my God it would be hilarious.
I hate my brain.
I still take showers like a 14-year-old boy.
That is, they usually last longer than 20 minutes because I spend most of my time beating my dick like it owes me money. My shower is the only place I can do it without my dogs watching me, longingly, while salivating at the thought of peanut-buttered scrotums.
I don’t care if they can’t talk. Make eye contact with your pet the next time you decide to practice your organ solo. If you can still finish, I will both applaud your perversion and get a restraining order from you for my pets.
But be warned, fellow bath-jackers, while you might enjoy the 2nd-degree burns from a hot shower, the worst thing you can do is to keep that water hot when you send your minions on a suicide mission down the drain.
Hot water plus jizz equals instant, man-made superglue.
You’ll be peeling the corpses of your would-be children off your skin for days.
Do you really want that on your conscience?
Turn the water heat down and send those motherfuckers packing.
Twitter, hands-down, is my preferred social medium. Why? Because when people aren’t bitching about their Favstar stats, sodomizing the English language or trying to get Justin Bieber to follow them, Twitter is a goldmine for brilliance. It’s peppered with more underfollowed, underappreciated, too-hilarious-for-their-own-good people.