*DISCLAIMER: If you are a stalker-type individual, Assclown, Ass-monkey, Dicknozzle or some other variation of a socially dysfunctional Ass-hat, reading this blog will cause your retinas to burn straight through the back of your head. Consider yourself warned.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Message From a Previously Dead Vajayjay

OK, so let me start by saying that I went to a "slumber party" Saturday night.

It was fun and fantastic and the host was a bit brilliant by planning a mixed after-party...just in case any now-horny gals wanted to rub all up on some very lucky fellas. (OK, that didn't happen.)

(Sucks for one of the dudes that he is always an obnoxious ass who thinks he is witty when really he is more douche than duke.)

...and ummm, he is also not pretty enough to be such the aforementioned obnoxious ass/douche. I think he killed the horn-buzz that many of us had, as we had previously sampled some magical balm that made everyone of us squeal (yes squeal) with absolute delight and then immediately select the product on our order forms.

Each lovely lady had skeptically gone into the ladies and sampled their flavor of choice of x-scream.

X-scream is fabulous flavored arousal balm. (It says so right on the cute little jar!)

As I am not easily aroused, I raised an eyebrow... (I do this a lot, yes?)

...until Raquel came screaming out of the bathroom.

*thinks in head, "Holy Shit! Did her hoo-ha catch on fire?!?!"*

Then I see she is giggling and bouncing and squealing!

The next lady comes out much the same...

*stares of open-mouthed amazement all around*

Then Maddy comes out of the bathroom. Tiny, adorable, un-shy. She says nothing but has a knowing look in her eye. She quietly sits down and makes her selection.

I jump up to try it!

I go in and use my sample of mint chocolate chip.

I feel nothing.

*crap!*

I must really be dead on the inside after all!

I zip up and wash my hands.

*sighs*

Then...

...just as I turn the doorknob...

I feel heat...

...and tingling...

...and heat...

...and coolness...

...and tingling...

Oh my!

It was like those freaks in the old York Peppermint Patty commercials!

I was beyond happy!

I bit my lip and tried not to look happy. (I was H-A-P-P-Y!)

Holy Trixie on a Triscuit!

Oh yes! Mama must have!

So, I get my little jar o'fun and wear a secret smile all night...

...and a little the next day too just knowing it is in my purse.

The idea was to wear a bit at the office.

I couldn't wait for Monday morning!

I get ready for work and dab a bit on and off I go...traffic be damned!

It hits me before I am even down the stairs.

I wiggled my ass all the way to the office...

About halfway there I am trying to mentally will it to stop because at some point soon, I will need to walk...normally.

I do some yoga breathing and my hoo-ha flips me off.

*bleep bleepity bleep bleep!*

I get into the office and go right to my desk.

Thankfully, my boss is busy, so I set up and then run to the ladies.

Let me say, I am thankful that there are private bathrooms here!

I swear to dog that I flicked my bean more before 10am yesterday than I have all year...and possibly 2007 too!

Between the wiggling in my seat and the constant runs to the restroom, my boss must have thought I had the runs or a UTI. Jeeezus!

Later I had to run a company errand so I hopped in my boss' Escalade EXT, cranked the music and rubbed one out...

That done, I washed it off and went about my day...but there were lingering effects...

I was aroused all damn day!

...and quite a bit happy!

So fellas, if your wife or GF has stopped putting out and you are CERTAIN that it is not your fat ass or wookie bush (or the fact that you are a complete tool) that has created such a lack of arousal from her, get her some of this cream and she will go friggin' ape shit!

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Stupid Cupid

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Saturday, January 5, 2008

"Bret Michaels Is SO Relevant!" He Cried

Here's the set up:

I went on a group hike with 44 other people. Of the 44 other people, there were 2 that instantly put me off. I'd say that's pretty fair. There's just no way you're going to get a large group together and everyone is going to bond and jump into a chorus of "Cum-bay-ya". Give me a break.

One of the two who put me off was more on instinct and observance of his inappropriate hiking attire and not yet proven. I don't care enough to verify and as he was harmless and silent there leaves only the other complete tool to comment on. He was part of a group of us who lunched post-hike.

The visual on the tool:

Fat-former-football-player-type whose greatest days were back in college and still wears his team shirt as if mentally willing the observer to believe he is muscular and athletic and not simply fat.

Why this is bad:

It's not his weight. It's his fat head. And no matter what Judd Apatow and Seth Rogen have attempted to portray in their wildly successful films, fat assholes are still in fact assholes. These types of men are always the biggest douches. They think they are the shit because possibly, once upon a time, in a place that no one can confirm, they may have possibly gotten laid...or at least achieved an over-the-panties pet. He played the part perfectly.

I was once a cheerleader but I don't run around at 35 in my effing uniform...though I have been known to make up inappropriate cheers for entertainment purposes on slow days at the office.

His saving grace:

He announced that he was fat and ugly...though he blamed Pittsburgh for that. As my best friend is from Pittsburgh and is neither fat nor ugly and not an ignorant fucktard, I took offense on his behalf.

Why his confession is bad:

He did not admit that he was as dumb as soup and moronic and quite a bit "off". Not to mention that the self-deprecating nonsense of calling yourself fat and ugly to a table of mostly strangers is sad, tired, and over-used. Sadly none of the women spoke up and said, "No you're not!" (Poor little head case.)

OK. Now that you have the back story I'll go on.

The group of us were constantly engaged in interesting and sometimes inappropriate-for-the-table conversations. Things like vibrators, dictionaries of deviant sex, and Miley Cyrus.

...Actually...

The Tool brought up Miley Cyrus.

...and how grown up/hot she is.

*throws up in mouth at visual of fat older man masturbating to a picture of wide-mouthed, illiterate daughter of Mr. Achy Breaky*

I'm pretty sure, "EWWWWW!" escaped from my lips.

Someone started talking about something else and as soon as there was a pause in dialogue, The Tool asks if we have seen "Rock of Love".

We all look around at each other without a clue as to what he is referring.

He then starts with how it is a reality show with Bret Michaels (from Poison "fame"/notoriety).

*eye rolls from group majority*

Some are confused as to who Bret Michaels is and I mention that he is some "once was" who thinks he's still in a rock band.

This pisses off The Tool who says, "Well clearly he still IS in the band!"

(...as if having a reality show on VH1 lends to some rock star credibility...Yeah sure. Ask Jessica & Nick about that.)

"Right. So they never dissolved the band," I say.

"They sold like 30 million records!" he exclaims.

"So did Milli Vanilli..." someone else says.

We laugh.

"Britney Spears sold like 25 million her first time out," someone else says.

"Yeah, well....he's STILL relevant!" The Tool assures us.

I'm pretty sure I had that one look on my face. I'm not certain he has ever heard the word "fucktard" but I'm sure he read it on my raised eyebrowed, smirky little face.

Now, I know that musical taste is musical taste and everyone has their own. However, liking something and it being relevant are quite different.

When I think of relevant musicians, I assure you few people name Bret Douchebag Michaels as a pioneer or relevant....except perhaps a few select members of Poison, though they aren't exactly known for getting along.

The Beatles. James Brown. The Grateful Dead. Aretha Franklin. The Rolling Stones. The Who. Led Zeppelin. Blah, blah, blah...you get the point.

Ummmmm....Poison?

Seriously?

They were the N'Sync of the 80's!

I mean we all listened to their crap back in the day and no doubt some of their songs remind us of our days of scrunchie socks and mall bangs...but relevance?

Then it dawned on me...

HE is Bret. He is still living in his glory days and thinking that he is a far bigger deal than he is or ever was and clinging to an idea of greatness that never came.

One couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him for a moment...

Then I remembered his perversions about a girl who turned 15 in November and how his fat ass made fun of my fruit crepe while he shoveled grease and lard into his fat-lipped mouth and in my mind I kicked him in the shin and gave him a swirly.