I have decided!:

1) Marriage is an institution invented by Jeezus to make the rest of us (single types) feel bad, either because:

a) Jr. High Volleyball Syndrome - we feel like all the other kids were already picked to be on someone's "team" and we're left standing cold, alone, and exposed, wearing bad, too-tight, too-short polyester gym shorts that kind of make your crotch stink;

b) Where the fuck's MY blender, and why should I buy one for two smug people who are clearly doing better on their combined income than I am on my single crappy paying-rent-by-myself one? They should have to pay US a penalty for that sh*t. I think it's called taxes but I'd rather just have some new appliances and maybe cable.

c) It's like announcing to the world, This Person I've Selected is Better Than You (Or, At Least Better At Getting Things from Me Than You); I will now give them sh*t I have withheld from you, like a little bitch, except for my splendid organs, which I shared with you freely - necessitating multiple trips to the doctor and/or Diflucan.

2) Impending marriages tend to put pressure on your existing relationship(s), if the parties in question have been going out for far less time than you. Meaning your significant other (usually female) starts giving you The Stinkeye of Resentment. They should cut that sh*t out. Marriage should be solely on an application-only, Soviet Russia kind of basis. Stand in the breadline until your number comes up, and the people behind you start grumbling to either shit or get off the pot. (That's right, I said shit, not sh*t, even.) This would eliminate so many senseless quarrels, I think.

3) I am starting to think that married people, or at least the women, are some other species. Possibly space aliens. (No offense to any space aliens who may possibly be reading this.)

4) While experiencing marriage, if you cannot refrain from putting your penis or vagina into/onto somebody else's penis and/or vagina, then you do not really love your significant other.

To review: marriage makes your exes feel like SHIT. Marriage makes your crotch stink. Be polite and wait your turn; take a number. I need a blender, and please to keeping your not-so-massive, throbbing organ away from me if you are married, thinking about being married (to someone else), have just proposed to anyone under 30 while in Amsterdam with some whores present, and your name is GEORGE.

Oops, I've said too much.

Anyway, discuss.
|

Poll time: what do you want to eat when you are sad?

I've heard: french fries and CAKE (some crap Richard Gere movie), potatoes with butter (Nora Ephron's Heartburn, I think), and whole, roast chicken.

My personal thing is soup.

Go figure.
|

...please, please. Yes, please! Oh please.

I don't care if it'd earn me negative 2,000 karma points...it'd totally be worth it.

Labels: Paris death watch

|

I swore I would never do this. Touch one.
Certainly not give one to my dog.

But I was at a crazily stressful, massive adoption event over the weekend, and I had to bring the dog because I had no place to leave her for six flippin' hours, and all the other kids had one, and she wanted it, badly. I could see the lust in her beady little eyes.

So I gave it to her.

She loved it, she put it in her mouth and went at it right away, all twelve inches of it - her little paws grasping, beady eyes closed tightly in contentment.

So I bought one. I bought her a bull penis. She has it on the bed right now, chewing it.

See, this reminds me of the "Crunchy Frog" sketch. Some stores will advertise it as a "pizzle stick" or a "bully stick" or a "natural beef muscle chew". NO NO NO IT IS NOT, it is a DEAD COW PENIS. This is false advertising, and I think they should really post something saying WARNING: VERY DEAD, VERY PENIS-Y BULL PENIS - DO NOT TOUCH.

P.S. PENIS.

But now...

THERE IS A DEAD BULL PENIS ON MY BED. What's more, THERE IS A DEAD BULL PENIS BEING CHEWED LUSTILY BY A VERY SMALL, VERY CUTE DOG, ON MY BED. And later, there will probably be a very small, very cute dog with VERY DEAD BULL PENIS BREATH LICKING MY FACE.

Nooooooooooooo...!! I have become one of "those" people.

Now I'm just like all the other sucker-fools who wander into the pet store, pick one up, and start to fondle it, waaaving it around blithely while wondering aloud, what is this? while the cashiers snigger behind cupped hands.

Hey, they've gotta get their kicks* somehow.

*penis.
|