Category Archives: balls

The Cock Came To Party


regardless of how cliche it is to have a giant inflatable cock at a bachlorette party – you can’t deny the joy it brings to everyone that encounters it.

go ahead – touch it.

parched cock.

and yes – the cock is an advocate of safe sex.
do you even know how many ladies he was with that night?

the cock makes everyone happy.

but unfortunately – the activities of the weekend will slowly begin to deflate any cock.

and i haven’t told shitler yet – but i would really like to get one for the living room.
you know – for a conversation.

like a great coffee table book.
only better.

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Textual Feeling: Heat Stroke


hello world.

i’d like to announce that i’ve decided to compulsively bake this weekend.  so that means no one better bother me.  
or i will fucking shank you with a whisk.  
a wire one.  
after i have severed some of the little whisky things so they’re pointy and sharp.

and i’m going to listen to zeppelin and elp on a constant loop throughout this bake-off with myself and it’s going to be tremendous.

and in all seriousness – i was going another direction with this post and then i had this conversation with b.  and it instantly became my favorite thing in the entire world.

b: you’d be amazed how quickly this heat takes effect on the testicles.

me:  i’ll do you one better.  imagine a sweaty, smelly vagina after an hour of intense cardio and then getting into a sweltering hot car that has no air conditioning and driving home.

b: your vagina doesn’t cling to your thigh and begin acting like a creepy wall crawler.

me: you don’t know that.

b: that’s true.  i’m just taking a shot in the dark.

me: thank you.  i appreciate you not making assumptions about my vagina.

b: come on, we all know it’s smelly and warn out.  kind of like a drained, inflatable pool.

me: i will neither confirm nor deny.

now go forth and discuss the intense heat and the damage it causes to your genitals.

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A Series In Poor Choices


i just wanted to lay in bed all day and watch bedknobs and broomsticks.  but no.  it’s wednesday.  and i had to work.  while hungover.  severely.  

so severely that i ate my lunch before 9am.  so severely that i didn’t even heat it up – just dunked a cold hamburger patty in lemon poppy seed dressing.  i’m a fucking wreck.

in my defense – it was shitler’s last night of bowling and i can’t tolerate being at that fucking place when i’m sober.  so i indulged.  and now i’m paying the price.  here’s a few ridiculous fucking pictures from last night:

me. and the wheez.

because normal pictures would be too easy.

oh, good news.  shitler is the champion of his fantasy football league.  

also, he got a trophy.

what’s that?  you don’t care?  ya, me either.

but i do like trophies.

and shoving them up people’s asses.

and apparently shitler and i can take a decent photo together:

you’ll have to excuse me.  i need more bayer advanced strength.  and another gallon of water.  if there were a contest for being the most dehydrated – i would win.

but today wasn’t all bad.  i remembered that i did hit the eight ball in to win a game of pool last night.  i only won because b was my partner and he got every other ball in.   i’m not even joking.

and then my friend the super fox sent me the best text in the world.  seriously.  it was this and only this:

but now i’m concerned.  does jeff have cancer?  and why is his hair like that?

also – i would post a picture of the super fox and me but i don’t have one.  and upon thinking about it – i don’t know if i do want one.  because she’s infinitely gorgeous and i am infinitely not.  

also – my hand smells.  that is all.

Things I’m Currently Fucking Obsessed With


i’m slightly obsessive.  usually for brief periods over nonsensical things.

please see below:

  • anything and everything gillian flynn.  for reals.  sharp objects was amazing.  dark places is currently blowing my mind.  and her new one, gone girl, (coming out in june) i can only imagine will be incredible.  i mean seriously – how can you not love her style and content when she writes shit like this: “the baby scuttering around inside like it had dug tunnels.”
  • controlling the force in which i pee.  you know – forceful stream, not forceful stream (you all know exactly what i’m talking about).
  • triscuits
  • this incredible amount of eggs:
  • that point when you know you’ve had enough coffee because you’re thinking somewhat clearly but then you decide to push the envelope and have another and then feel like you could take over the fucking world.
  • in regards to taking over the world – PINKY AND THE BRAIN. 
  • this chicken wing and also the inquisitive look on shitler’s face:

shitler: "soon chicken wing, soon i will crap you out."

  • this video.  and this band.  they’re incredible.  it makes me want to get a band of merry folk together and stomp our feet.  sidenote – do you think headband girl and lead singer are banging each other?  please watch for the stolen glances between the two.  oh, and i also want lead singer’s jacket.
  • THE HUNGER GAMES AT MIDNIGHT.

please stay tuned for the tale of my st. patrick’s day adventure.  

and by adventure i mean shit show.

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The Night Lincoln Tried to Cripple Me


there is never a dull moment whenever lincoln is around.  drunk or sober or asleep.

the 3rd of march was his 28th birthday.

here is a photo prior to our departure from the bar:

here is a list of shit he muttered/slash thought i cared to hear:

  • alabaster gray
  • springtime fluff
  • wintertime cherishness
  • remember your graduation tassel?  i feel like the end of a tassel.  i feel so fluffy.
  • can i bite your titsies?
  • your tits are butt-tastic
  • remember shel silverstein?
  • it’s like a superman gift box inside of a space shuttle.
  • i want to go bed.  i don’t like this anymore.
  • fucking shel silverstein.
  • i could randomly state crazy things that you could write?
  • you’re writing this too?  goddamnit.

then an hour after this – he flailed in his sleep and cracked me in the spine.
then shouted obscenities.

like i said – never a dull moment.

Tumor Muffin Cometh.


here i stand.  i can do no other.
martin luther said that.

but i’m not standing.  i’m sitting.

because i’m weak. 
this weekend was hard on my mind, body, and soul.

it began with this:

nom nom nom

i got so excited when my entrée came that i immediately shoveled it into my mouth without taking a picture. 
i make no apologies.  that shrimp and crab cannelloni was orgasmic.
nothing got too out of hand, thank god, which is surprising considered i packed in 5 drinks and 3 shots.

B is photo bombing.

i’m currently in a food and alcohol comatose state.
monday i resume my diet and i could not be more excited for that.
in the meantime i’ve managed to pack in the following:

tumor muffin.

BACON.

beyond.

it looks like i’m obsessed with breakfast foods.
but in reality – i’m just obsessed with all food.

like this:

cock cake.

or inappropriate things like these:

i wish.

kinky pussy.

b and i are working on murdering this:

sinner.

well, with that, i must bid thee farewell.
i have a lot of drinking and bad decisions to fit into a single afternoon.

wish me luck.

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Game Changer? Vibrator Necklace.


i went to one of those filthy sex toy parties this afternoon.
it felt like i’d finally come home.  finally made that trip to the holy land.

nothing like a table full of vibrators and lube to really brighten someone’s day.

i tried to be nice and ask lincoln if he wanted me to get him anything.  so i sent him this picture of some options:

he didn't want any of them.

that’s fine.  that’s just the last time i’ll offer to ever get him anything.

i got some tingly balm for your lips and nipples:

i tested it first.

and this.  my new necklace:

relax. i haven't used it yet.

and in the spirit of all things phallic shaped – i’m going to go eat another brat.

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I’m In the Mood to Eat My Feelings


and i’d start with some peeps.  i don’t even fucking like peeps.  but they’re here at work and i would destroy them with my jaw bone and molars. 

or incisors.

or canines.

or whatever a cool word for teeth other than teeth is.

neon green means it's good.

don’t get me wrong.  this diet has worked. 

i got on the scale this morning and fist pumped.  because i’ve officially lost 27.2 pounds.

so one would think that seeing results – and good ones at that – would curb my need to stuff my face with anything that comes across its path.  but apparently not.

and eating my feelings doesn’t mean i’m sad.  in fact, i’m in a great mood.  i’m in a jubilant mood where happiness abounds and i want to eat massive amounts of cheese and cake balls. 

or perhaps just a cheese ball.  which would be awesome.

i’m not going to do any of that though.  if i ate something i shouldn’t – it would create a dangerous slippery slope and i would somehow gain 27.2 pounds back in a single sitting. 

i know it’s not possible, but somehow, with my luck – it would happen.

On The Night You Were Born


your mother and i reminisced about that time we had sex and conceived you. 

like these polar bears:

i resisted the urge to buy this children's book today.

Four Goddamn Hours Later


i embarked on a sewing machine project this afternoon.  it took me four hours.  and this is all i have to show for it:

it would be great if you voted.  that way i know the temperature of the crowd and i can go in that creative direction for my next projects.

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