Today is better and less angst-filled. (I know you were on tenterhooks.) I think I was getting too much sleep for a couple of days. Sleeping too much is bad because it leads to thinking. And thinking starts with a “T” which rhymes with “P” that stands for Pooping Pepper.
I may have bought these today. I am feeling coy so I will let you draw your own conclusions.
Okay, okay, you are so strong and persuasive and you smell so enticingly of Old Spice that I’ll tell you: I did.
For a few years now I’ve been just clonking the big salt can and my ugly grinder down on the table. Now I can class things up a bit with a matched set!!! I got it from this cool newer store in Wallingford, which features all the stuff you don’t really need but OOH you want it. Like giant gummy steaks. They are so nice and friendly and they offer opportunities for discounts via trivia which, I regret to say, is actually a draw for me as a consumer. I also bought Strudel one of those “magic wands” filled with glitter and blue water, for the car. I loves that place.
It is also important that you check in on the state of affairs between Skeletor and Beastman. Warning: Giant Rubber Wangs and lyrics about buttsex ahoy. I feel convinced somehow that the Tiger Lillies influenced this. Additionally: Not Safe for those who Abhor Bam Margera (NSHTWABM).
Finally, your stripper is probably farting on you. I have never actually been to a strip club, because I generally get my action on at the Blood Bank (Hiiii Raoul!), but now I am motivated to go to see if I can tell who’s “crop dusting.” Awesome, Ladies!
P.S. This is old, but new to me! Tirzah sent me an email with pics of “dragon John,” who has covered his manparts with a Puff the Magic Dragon tattoo. Thanks to Blah Blah Blog, since I found you when I googled up the dragon peen. And thank you Tizzy, you always send me the craziest shit.
Can I take you to a strip club and buy you a lap dance as a christmas present? It’s sordid and wholly unsatisfying, and you don’t get much for your money, but… I guess that’s part of the charm.
No, I actually don’t want to go to one. I am going through a “Personally Knowing The Owner of the Genitals I Am Seeing IRL” phase.
Internets hoohoo is fair game, but really only of interest if it’s attached to someone famous, there’s something shocking lodged in it, or it’s covered in cool tattoos.
I am so glad we had this talk. Haw.
Anywayz, I thought you were going to be OOT for xmas? Or were you talking about post-holiday-letdown depresso ladyparts? HMMM?
You’re so lucky to live someplace where the only source of entertainment is coffee, instead of watching pregnant girls shake their wuhwuhs three inches from your face. Really.
Doesn’t that tatoo guy just make your ass hurt? My jaw was pretty much agape and then I realized, omg, shut your mouth! It’s an ASSHOLE you’re staring at! I just realized you linked me twice at the end…to both sites. Yay, I’ll be famous, but never as famous as SJ! ;)
Post holiday letdown of course. I guess I can figure out something else though. I’m leaving the 17th so all my local love is gonna have to be post. I am missing you bad tho.
I’m sure to get fired for looking Puff in my office. Wow, just wow. I can’t imagine being this guy’s waxer.
It was all nice and pretty like I thought it would be. I thought “Puff! There’ll be fairies and whatever that boy was who lived by the sea.” The art there pretty much suggests there is some sort of hell in or near his butthole.
And God, yes. The poor waxer. But I guess waxers have to see it all.
I’m speechless.
I don’t see where you can buy the pooping pepper dogs. Where did you get those wonderful things?