Friday, December 07, 2007

Christmas On The Cheap

When moneys tight and your luck's run hard,

When all your credit is maxed on the card.

Here is an idea or three

To make the most of cheap holiday glee.

There's Cousin Al fresh from the pen

He'll ink a homemade tat for a five or a ten.

And for a gift both fresh and dope

He can carve the Virgin Mary from a bar of soap.

For a kick try some arts and crafts,

It might be good for a couple of laughs.

I think that I'll be generous and give my neighbors, the hicks.

A Family Portrait made from Popsicle sticks.

Whether in the lean or in the fat

I hope your Christmas is all that.

It's not the cost but the thought counts more.

Even if it's from the Dollar Store.

Saturday, December 01, 2007


With electronics high on the Christmas shopping list this year, it makes me think that a lot of todays technology is due to the porn industry. In the '80's, the proliferation of porn tapes made VHS popular and then later DVDs. In the '90's, the internet exploded in large part for it's ability to allow users to surf for free porn. I am guessing that the next trend will be robotics. When the porn industry comes up with a robot that can give a hummer with a song on it's humaniform lips and a song in it's mechanical heart, sales would be through the roof. If it is also be designed to cook up a mean lasagna, clean the house, and mow the yard, there will be one in every home.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Worse Than The Disease

Commercials for medicines most always weird me out a little bit. They invariably give themselves a glowing report on how they are the best thing since aspirin but at the tail end always give a laundry list of side effects that make me wonder if the cure is worse than the disease.

The one that I notice the most is the new Cialis commercials. Sure it might help give you a stiffy for the next 36 hours but if you start losing your vision or hearing, you better check with a doctor. What's the good in having a good stiffy if you can't see where to put it? I can just imagine some poor guy's wife with some of those flags that are used by sailors on aircraft carriers, guiding the big boy in.

I think with all the side effects if I have a problem in the old e.d. department that I will stick to the tried and true stiffy maker: Porn.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

A Time To Be Thankful

I have a lot to be thankful for this year. After circumstances forced me to switch careers, I managed to come out like a cat thrown from a three story building: On my feet with only sore toes. Angry Joyce survived her heart attack and is as angry as ever. My granddaughter Faith is growing like a weed and babbling like a brook and is the apple of her Pop's eyes. The young un's still at home are doing well. In short, although it has been a trying couple of years, hopefully the storms have passed and it will be smooth sailing for a little while.

I am still enjoying this little blog thing. I don't post as often but I am still thankful to have this little outlet for my thoughts. As sick and twisted as those thoughts can be at times.

I hope all of you have a great day and a great Holiday Season. Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Get Your Guns Up

Texas Tech 34 - Not For Long #4 Oklahoma 27
Nuff Said!!!

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Thanks To You

The love that I have for my country and the sincere gratitude that I have for all of those that have fought for our rights as Americans is no secret. On this Veteran's Day, I would like once again to give my thanks to these brave and dedicated men and women. Your sacrifice is not forgotten. For keeping this the land of the free, I thank you.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Whip Me, Spank Me, Make Me Write Bad Checks

I recently received an e-mail from the folks at Eden Fantasys about a potential link exchange and advertising opportunity. I have always held back from putting ads on Blugstuff because I do it for fun not profit and really how much profit is in ads on a blog anyway. But I have on rare occasions gave a heads up to products that I got a kick out of such as 'The Turd's', so I decided to give Eden Fantasy's a look. I must say that they have a lot of neat shit.

The teddy bear spank-her is crazy. Who in blue blazes would have thought about making a paddle look cute and cuddly. They also have paddles that make impressions. I can just imagine the impression on my noggin if I spanked Angry Joyce and impressed slut on her ass.

They also have a line of sex toys for gays and lesbians but I must admit to having a wtf moment while checking out the lesbian toys. What is the difference between a vibe made for a straight woman or one for a lesbian? I never could figure that one out but I was amazed by the waterproof model. What will they think of next? I am predicting an I-Vibe that not only has the traditional vibe functions but also will play mood music in MP3 format and show videos.

I still don't think that I am going to put any ads on my sidebar or anything. But there was enough cool shit on their site for me to say that places like Eden Fantasy's help make it the world that I love. For as I am fond of saying, 'It's a sick world and I am a happy man.' And there is nothing that quite says 'sick world, happy man' like a mood light vagina.

On second look through this post, it is actually a pretty damn good ad. Maybe they will send me a free sex toy. I just hope like hell my usual luck doesn't hold out. If so they will probably send me the magic butt plug. That's just what I need; another pain in my ass.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Happy Halloween '07

Whether you are tricking or treating, have a Great Halloween!!!

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Taste The Rainbow

My dear Aussie friend, Anonymum, came up with the idea of doing a rolling post. I joined up late in the game but I thought that it would be great fun. And it was so here is the tale and those who have contributed. Thanks again, Mo, for having me and thanks to all who contributed. It has been a blast and I can't wait to see how it will end. I am sure that it will be Splendid.

The curtains were drawn against the chill of an early winters evening. The only sound to be heard was a sigh as she poured over one of her interminable lists, this being for the coming weekends dinner party.

She was concerned how she would keep them apart after the recent unpleasantness.

It was unthinkable she not invite them both, but in doing the right thing by them, had created a problem for herself…..

Drawing a soothing draught of red wine from her glass, she looked up from her list and stared across the room. A distant memory, like the transient flash of ‘his’ handsome smile, spurned her inner turmoil. She had developed feelings for Steven during her initial tenure at the University. Their first encounter seemed almost cliche. A fateful walk across an autumn campus, a stack of books falling upon golden autumn leaves, polite words spoken, lucid eyes meeting hungrily. Butterflies.

What had begun as an innocent friendship between colleagues (for Amy would later be introduced to Steven as a contemporary) later spurned into a brief, but torrid, romantic affair. When the couple resuscitated themselves from their grey moral vortex, they realised that they would make better friends than bed-fellows and had decided to remain in each other’s lives. Now, Amy had the task of playing chancellor and counsellor to her friend, as he struggled for a sense of equilibrium in his failing marriage. Once again, she sensed the butterflies.

Amy sealed both invitations, one for Steven and one for Margo, his estranged wife, and adhered a lovely tiffany art stamp to each. “I hope to God, they aren’t still arguing over custody of the dog or the chimp - helluva a dinner topic that will make.” She put the invitations aside for the post office run she would do in the morning and pondered the menu for the party. “Now what dish would both please Steven and compliment his lovely golden curls by candlelight - of course, curry!”

Amy sat on the couch contemplating the difficult intricacies of the seating arrangement when the phone rang.

“Hello?”“Ms. Neidelson, thank God you’re home. This is Dr. Shotzendach. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“No, doctor. I’m just sitting . . . Is everything okay?”

“Well, I do believe we’ve found the source of your equilibrium problem and I’m glad you’re sitting down. You’re two months pregnant. And here’s the best part: You’re having twins! Congratulations! Ms. Neidelson?”

“Uh . . . I don’t understand doctor . . . I mean, I understand but . . . how do you . . .”

“Your lab results and the CAT scan images told us all we needed to know. Ms. Neidelson? Ms. Neidelson, are you still there?!”

Amy began to laugh hysterically. A bit too hysterically . . .

The phone slipped from her spasming hand and crashed against the glass of wine. Her laughter morphed to sobs as she sat mesmerized by the bits of broken glass and the spread of the crimson stain against the polished hard wood floor. Bitterly she asked herself, how could she have come to this pass. She had been so careful all her life and yet one afternoon of unbridled passion had sent her whole world reeling.

For as long as she could remember, Amy had vowed not to conceive. She had worked her entire life to not only conceal but to expunge the story of her childhood. She had spent her early years raised in a traveling circus but not the romanticized life. Her father was not the Lion Tamer and her mother was not the Beautiful Lady on the Flying Trapeze. No that was only in her dreams. Her father was Wee Willy Winky, The Smallest Man in Northern America, and her mother was Woolly Wanda, The Bearded Woman. Tears ran down Amys’ face as she wondered if this life would be exposed if she was to give birth to two small bearded goat girls.

She berated herself but she knew that it could have been no different. She had not the power or the will to avoid succumbing to the charms of the Parcel Delivery Man. She had been in a high state of anticipation over the delivery of her lavender shower curtains when Dan rang her doorbell. One look at his glittering smile, the first glance at the sunlight shimmering off his baseball cap, and her heart and her loins melted.

But what now? How could she put on a brave face for the dinner party this weekend with her entire life in turmoil.

After wiping away warm tears, Amy smoothed out invisible wrinkles from her dress and stood to look out the window. Her sniffles and tears subsided as mascara had run down her cheeks, staining her fair skin. As she watched from the foyer’s window, she noticed a few children playing in the snowdrifts across the street. This saddened the woman as she knew that she would never have normal looking children that didn’t need a daily shave at the age of four, but at least they’d stay warm during the chilly winter season.

Amy’s thoughts went to the Parcel Delivery Man and his wooly, sweater-like back hair. What a lovely sight, she remembers. It reminded her of her dear, late Mother. A heavy sigh escaped her as she shook her head, cursing herself at the thought of the dinner party, and the details that still needed to be finalized. “Woman, you must pull yourself together, if only for the weekend!”She pondered the guest list and thought of him, Steven.

As she went to the closest for the broom and dustpan she remembered the first night she spent in Steven’s arms…dinner and dancing till dawn at the officer’s club. He had looked so stunning in his military regalia. At their initial meeting as colleagues he had invited her to attend his official retirement from the Marine Corps to enjoy his teaching position full time. The butterflies increased but the evening had followed with the most intense love making that Amy had ever enjoyed and had since to be repeated. Even the afternoon spent with Dan was no match. If only she would have been as careful with her birth-control methods then.

She swept up the shattered wine glass and reflected on the fact that she had been drinking while her unborn children inhabit her womb. What type of life was she bringing them in to? Were her bearded babies lives to be hampered with an addiction to alcohol like hers had been? The circus life had been hard…sometimes the only thing her father would bring home from the store was alcohol to drown away the lonely life the family lead.

With her dinner list complete, and the turmoil of the evening settling in her mind, Amy retired to bed for the evening. Her dreams were fitful and she tossed and turned violently in her sleep. She awoke the next morning with a vivid recollection of those troubling nocturnal thoughts. “Bearded children, military uniforms and broken glass” she murmured to herself as the first rays of dawn struck her face. “I need a strong cup of coffee,” she grumbled to herself as she rose out of bed and headed for the kitchen. As Amy stood waiting for the coffee to percolate, an agitated knocking sound rattled her awake. Thinking it was a dream, Amy ignored the sound and began pouring herself a strong elixir. “Bang, Bang, Bang!” this time the noise was penetrating, and very real. Amy nearly jumped out of her skin. Who would be calling at this hour?” she grimaced to herself angrily, stomping as she made her way to the front entrance. “I’m coming…” she yelled at the closed door, “please give me a second.” As Amy opened the door, she was surprised to find herself face to face with a furry humanoid face. EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeekkk!” Amy shrieked and slammed the door suddenly.

“What in the world?” she exclaimed to herself as she pressed her back against the door.

Her thoughts were brought back to last night’s dreams; the beards, the bearded baby faces. Her heart was pounding furiously. Again, another set of three knocks, and the sound of a human voice. Upon recognising the voice, Amy opened the door cautiously. This time, she was greeted by Steven. “Uhm, hello Steven!” blustered Amy as she opened the door, “I’m sorry for my bizarre reaction, but I thought I actually saw a furry child on the front step when I first opened the door, and he/she startled the heck out of me!”

“Actually Amy, I know that it is rather early and the party doesn’t start until 6 pm, but I needed to ask you a favour,” chided Steven. His eyes were sparkling and his wry smile told Amy that he was either having nostalgic thoughts, or he was truly up to something devious.

“Sure Steven, what is it?” Amy queried, noticing the leash in his left hand, then added sardonically, “Don’t tell me you have a freaky bearded baby attached to that leash.”

Steven looked down and from behind his legs the leash slackened as a tiny chimpanzee padded her way to the threshold of her door. The chimpanzee looked up at Amy with deep, dark eyes. She had the cutest face. A bearded baby face. “It seems as though Margo and I are having a custody battle over Lola” lamented Steven, “and Margo is now threatening for sole custody of our dear little chimpanzee girl, so I was wondering if you would be able to help us out?”

With that question, Amy just stood there, scratching her head, as the chimpanzee reached across her furry backside in search of a “smelly preparation”, should her new “stepmom” fail to receive her with open and loving arms….

“What do you mean, ‘help you out’, Steven?”

“Well, could Lola stay with you for a few days? You see, the judge decreed that Lola must stay with a neutral third party while he deliberates his decision regarding Lola’s custody. And since you’re a friend to both of us, you seemed like the logical choice.”

While Steven was explaining himself, Amy stood transfixed by the wee little monkey face before her. Such a sweet, hairy little creature! Lola’s facial features so resembled Amy’s dear, departed mother it was uncanny. Why, it was almost like looking into the past.

“Well?” Steven said. “What do you think?”

Amy thrust out her arms to take Lola. “Oh Steven, I’d love to” she said. Then she stopped abruptly, arms in mid-air. “But the dinner party! I have hours and hours of food preparation ahead of me. Who will look after Lola?”

“Oh, I think you’ll find Lola quite helpful in the kitchen” Steven said with a glint in his eye. “Yes, veeeery helpful.” “By the way, are you still preparing Indian food for tonight?”

“Curry” Amy replied, once again holding her arms out to take Lola. She cradled the little primate in her arms, her body swaying back and forth rhythmically.“Did you hear that, Lola? Curry!” Steven grinned at Lola, who in turn exposed a mouth full of teeth at Steven in typical money-grin fashion and nodded her head up and down rapidly while screeching monkey sounds back at Steven. “Lola gets rather excited about cooking.” Steven explained.

“Okay, I guess it will work out.” Amy said. Oh this monkey reminded her so much of her dear mother!! Right down to the hand clapping and teeth exposure!

“Thanks” said Steven. “You’re a real lifesaver.” He gazed into Amy’s eyes meaningfully, and took a step closer. His blonde curls glinted radiently in the sunlight, momentarily blinding Amy. “I hope I can thank you properly later” he said softly.

“Oh” said Amy, trying to blink the spots out of her eye. “Oh yes, Steven.” She suddenly felt overheated and dizzy, then noticed that Lola had wrapped herself around Amy like a baby possum clinging to its mother.

“Here’s Lola’s diaper bag and some assorted toys. And at two o’clock she likes to listen to her CD of organ-grinder music. Helps her relax for her nap. She’s a great help in the kitchen; just give her things to mix up. She’s a whiz at mixing, aren’t you Lola-Ebola?” Steven chucked Lola under the chin, then turned to go. Amy and Lola waved goodbye to Steven until his car turned the corner.

“OK, my little Lola-Ebola,” Amy crooned, using Steven’s special term of endearment. “Let’s go cook!” Dropping Lola’s bag in the foyer, Amy took Lola by the hand and they walked into the kitchen. As Amy gathered ingredients from the refrigerator and cabinets, she didn’t notice Lola scurry out of the kitchen and back to the foyer, where she began rummaging through her bag. Removing the small packet of tumeric from her bag, Lola slipped it into her diaper and returned to the kitchen, her favorite organ grinder tune playing happily in her head…

As Amy started gathering ingredients in the kitchen, she stared thinking again about Steven; his gorgeous eyes, his pouty mouth, his blindingly shiny blonde curly locks. “I wonder what conditioner he uses”, she thought to herself. She would have to remember to ask him when this fiasco with Lola was all said and done.

She went to the cupboard to grab the fryer pan and pots she needed to begin cooking for the party. Behind her, a soft voice with a light, almost playful, british tone spoke:

“Oh, dear, you’ll need a larger pot than that i’m afraid.”

Amy swung around fast. In the doorway to the kitchen was little Lola, complete with a little pink ruffled apron! Amy stood, stunned. Did the little bearded wonder just speak?

“I’m sorry?” she replied.

“The pot,” Lola said, “is not large enough. Do you have a larger one?”

Giggling, Amy stood there. She didn’t know what to make of this. A talking chimp? With a British accent nonetheless? How completely amusing, and mad! Just as she was about to respond, she dropped the fryer pan from her hand and it hit the floor with a crash.

Amy awoke, startled. Sweat beading from her brow. She must have fallen asleep on the couch. “What a vivid dream”, she mumbled to herself.

She heard a loud bang coming from the kitchen. Cautiously, she grabbed the broom that was leaning against the wall and moved toward the kitchen doorway. Another bang. She jumped, then realized what the noise was. She had left the kitchen window open slightly and the shutter was banging against it. She felt a wave of relief and shut the window.

She looked the clock on the wall. 9:23a.m.. “Well,” she thought, “Now is as good a time as any to start preparing for this party.”

Amy started the coffee pot and began pulling the food and spices out to start her appetizers, and of course, the curry and roast she would be making. The scent of coffee filled the air and she took a deep breath.

“Things aren’t going to be so bad,” she thought, “Bearded babies are better than no babies. And certainly better than talking chimps!” She giggled at the thought of her wierd and vivid dream.Just then, a knock at the door. She wasn’t expecting a visitor, or even Dan, the hairy, yet handsome parcel packageman.

She started to open the door when someone came bursting in and almost knocked her on the couch. She quickly recovered her footing. It was Margo, Steven’s estranged wife, and she didn’t look too happy.

“You WHORE!“, she exclaimed, bursting into the room. She was moving quickly toward Amy, waving her finger in her face. Amy was backed against the wall.

“Steven just told me everything! He was hoping that by coming clean, we could possibly give our marriage one more chance. I knew he was a dirty dog, but YOU, Amy? How could you do this? I confided in you, told you of the trouble our marriage was having, and THIS is how you ‘help‘? My God! You better start talking Missy, and you better start talking FAST!”

“Margo, sit down and SHUT UP for a moment,” Amy hissed at her. “What in the hell do you think you are doing, bursting in on me, screaming your fool head off at me?” she asked. She slammed the door, and moved behind the counter to get a cup of coffee, and catch her breath.

Margo, to her credit, did sit down at the kitchen table. The tension grew as Amy poured coffee into mugs for herself and Margo, and brought them over to the table. As she sat across from Margo, Amy took a deep breath, and readied herself for the conversation that was ahead of them. For a brief moment, she thought about the dinner preparations, but decided they could wait. This conversation was too important, given her news of the previous day.

Amy began speaking softly and quickly, “I knew Steven was going to speak with you, I knew he would tell you, but it was not so he could start again with a clean slate. It was to convince you that it was over, that he wanted to move on.

“Swallowing hard, Amy continued “What made you think I wanted to hear your ‘confession’ that day? Why did you think I wanted to help? I wanted to get out of the room as fast as I could. Your sad story would have broken my heart, if I hadn’t known the other side of the story.”

Stuttering, Margo tried to interject, “But…..I….”.

A bit stronger now, Amy got up from the table, “Margo, I do not owe you explanations any more than you owe them to me, but get your act together, and stop acting like a jerk.”

She walked back around the kitchen counter and began to page through her lists, getting ingredients organized in the order she would need them, totally ignoring Margo, who still sat at the table in stunned silence.

“Go home Margo, make some sense of the mess your life is in,” Amy counseled, “and don’t you ever come in to my house raging like that again.”

Silently, Margo slunk out of the house. Amy went to the door to watch her drive off, and closed the door. She leaned back against the door and feeling lightheaded slid to the floor.
“What next?” she wondered.

While she was sitting on the floor, she noticed she hadn’t run the Swiffer over it lately. When she got up, she banged her head on an open cupboard door, blood poured from the wound. She leaned back against the door and feeling lightheaded slid to the floor.

Now It's Time For Me To Screw It Up:

Sprawed upon the floor feeling her lifes blood spill onto the floor like the wasted Cabernet, Amy's life flashed before her eyes like a rainbow seen only one section at a time. First she saw the blue of her childhood. The sadness of life as a child of freaks but the happiness of love and simple joys.

The red of passion shone through. First with Steven glowing bright at first but then dimming into a subdued pleasure of freindship. Then, the intense short lived burst of passion that was Dan.

The yellow peeked through. The spice of life. The curry, the turmerik, the parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. The thing that gives life meaning, the laughter, the lust, the happiness, the rage, the joy, all the emotions that make us human.

The green of life came next. The life growing inside her struggling to bring her back. The life and joy and love that beckoned her to not give up.

But the bright white light called. It promised to end this pain and confusion. Yet just as she felt herself rising to this tunnel of brightness, something seemed to dim the brightness. Something blocked her way. Something, could it be, brown?

I have found out that now Anonymum is taking votes to see who will finish up the tale. Bringing an end to this tale will be no small task.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

A Match Made For Advertising

Recently I caught the Macy's ad, starring Martha Stewart and Tim Gunn (of Project Runway fame.) I was amazed at the strange chemistry that they had in the ad. Sure he is swishier than the Queer Eye guys and Martha is well, Martha is about as butch as it gets without spiking her hair and wearing a Snap-On Tool tee-shirt. It leaves me to wonder what would happen if they spawned children. It also leads me to what other celebrities would make strange bedfellows.
1.) John Edwards and Marilyn Monroe. She's hot. She's dead. He talks to the dead. It's a match made in heaven.
2.) Carrottop and Roseanne. It has all that Jack Sprat thing going for it.
3.) The Old Spice Guy and The Marlboro Man. Brokeback Mountain meets Pirates of the Caribbean.
4.) Jenna Jamison and Oral Roberts. Hey they both have the Oral down pat.
5.) Dennis Rodman and Serena Williams. But who will wear the bridal gown?

Monday, October 15, 2007

Now Turn Your Head And Spit

In Woodland California, a dentist is accused of fondling the breasts of 27 patients. The good doc is trying to defend himself by claiming that chest rubs are a legitimate dental process and that he routinely massaged patients' chests to treat temporo-mandibular joint disorder, or TMJ, which causes neck and head pain. One of the complaints was from a 31 year old woman that claims that the good doc groped her breasts six times over the past two years. She had even taken to wearing tight shirts with high necklines but the doc still kept getting to her goods.
Now, I don't know but I would think that she would have caught on by the first or second grope that something amiss was going on and did she really think that playing hard to get with her clothing choices really was going to help. Perhaps this just goes to show that modern dentistry has unlocked the secret to Victoria's Secret.
For the news story click here.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Pickin' The Hits

Angry Joyce is a football widow. I am not saying that I am a fanatic but I live for football season, from the Friday night lights to NCAA football on Saturday to Monday Night Football and even the flex games on Thursdays, I watch all that I can. I play pick 'em football and I have an NFL fantasy football team. One thing that I never do though is bet on football except for the occasional squares game. The reason for this is simple. At picking winning teams, players, and any other outcome, I just plain suck.

Any underdog I pick ends up playing like the bums that they are, any favorite that I pick will end up getting beat by some Jr. High School for the Blind, any dynamic superstar player put on my fantasy roster will end up with a season ending injury in the first quarter, and any number that I pick in a squares game will change 5 seconds before the end of the quarter.

But hope springs eternal. This year after two humiliating losses to my fantasy team, I have managed to eke out three straight wins. I should probably quit now while I still have a winning record but I will forge ahead in hopes that this year will be my year, after all they say that the sun has to shine on a dog's ass once at least once in his life.

Now Phats has invited me to be a guest pigskin prognosticator in his weekly prediction post. I accepted the honor and hope that I will not humiliate myself, but chances are that I will suck like a Kirby. So if you want to see me humiliated, go ahead and check over at Phat's place after the games and I am sure that you won't be disappointed.
I correctly picked 10 of 12 games and out picked the master prognosticator, Phats. I am glad that he let me goof off and be a guest guru and am really pleased that the Red Raider Fight Song is blaring away over at his place. The Red Raiders have broken into the top 25 with their win over the Aggies. In other Red Raider news, sales of some tee shirts were halted by a group of haters. The tee shirts had a pick of the Red Raider hanging the Aggies Dog mascot with the logo reading,'Vick 'Em.' Hater's have no sense of humor.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007


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Sunday, September 30, 2007

Sick World; Happy Viewing

Warning: If you are easily offended, what the hell are you doing here? Seriously, I am going to be a tad bit more explicit than usual. You have been warned!!!

I am so glad that the new tv season is upon us. Besides Heroes, My Name is Earl, and others, one of my favorite series is back this year; Cathouse: Series Two. It's back to the Bunny Ranch one more time. The first episode dealt with three newcomers to the bordello biz. One is an old hand in the adult entertainment industry, one is a mid-western girl next door who just loves sex in all forms and guises, but I am afraid that the other new girl just isn't going to make it.

The problem isn't her looks. She is arguably the best looking of the three with long blond hair, a shapely figure, and the face of an angel. Her problem is strictly one of attitude. She is totally against oral sex. The idea of a prostitute who will not give head is just wrong. It's like going to an International House of Pancakes that doesn't serve syrup with it's pancakes. Hell, I would hazard to say that many men that go to a prostitute do it for a blow job. They might be married to some gal that when she said, I Do, meant that I no longer will.

When I was looking for a pic for the post, I went to the Bunny Ranch Website and looked for a pic of the new girl who refused to google the hoogler but I couldn't find her. (The lengths I will go to for my readers knows no boundaries.) I was amazed. Most all the girls were really good looking but it amazed me the variety of women that are available at the Bunny Ranch. It reminded me of the scene in 'From Dusk Till Dawn' when the doorman played by Cheech Marin barks out one of the most awesome movie quotes of all time, 'All right, pussy, pussy, pussy! Come on in pussy lovers! Here at the Titty Twister we're slashing pussy in half! Give us an offer on our vast selection of pussy, this is a pussy blow out! All right, we got white pussy, black pussy, Spanish pussy, yellow pussy, we got hot pussy, cold pussy, we got wet pussy, we got smelly pussy, we got hairy pussy, bloody pussy, we got snappin' pussy, we got silk pussy, velvet pussy, Naugahyde pussy, we even got horse pussy, dog pussy, chicken pussy! Come on, you want pussy, come on in, pussy lovers! If we don't got it, you don't want it! Come on in, pussy lovers! Attention pussy shoppers! Take advantage of our penny pussy sale! If you buy one piece of pussy at the regular price, you get another piece of pussy of equal or lesser value for only a penny! Try and beat pussy for a penny! If you can find cheaper pussy anywhere else, fuck it!'

After writing this post and all the research that went into it, I feel like pancakes with syrup, lots and lots of sticky sweet syrup.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Is She A Skank?

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I was sittin' in the Happy Horny Toad Saloon and this purty little thang kept givin' me the google eyes. I kin tell ya it was shore nuff givin me a warm feelin' in my Wranglers. I sent Phone-A-Friend a pic off my cell phone and they told me the reason that she was givin' me the google eyes is cuz she was googly eyed. Pershate ya, Delbert McScratchin.

And remember our service is equal opportunity. We know in this day and age, a woman needs our service just as much as a man. Hell if you get in bad enough shape you might even end up with someone like me.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

I Am Always The Last To Know

Too bad I didn't run across this site, back when I had three daughters at the house. Even though I am sure that this site is satirical, bringing back a bride price has a nice ring to it for a father of three future brides. At the site, the asking prices are from around $3,000 to $80,000. With the spawn that AJ and I have unleashed on the world, I doubt I could do any better than three or four goats and a used travel trailer. But hope springs eternal and perhaps with the last one that we have at the house, I could take the cash and invest in a square watermelon farm. I believe that the American consumer would go ass over elbows for a square seedless watermelon. It wouldn't take up as much space in a cooler or a refrigerator, and just imagine how many they could stack up in one bin at a Super Wal-Mart.
This way we are not losing a daughter, we are betting the farm.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Tag Thoughts

This morning while getting ready, I had another one of my Adult ADD stream of consciousness moments. I reached for the can of TAG body spray. I noticed the line on the can that read, 'Uniquely designed to attract the ladies. You have been warned.' If it is uniquely designed to attract the ladies, if a woman put it on would she attract lesbians?..... If a woman that was attracted to men with hairy chests would she be attracted to hairy chested women?.....I wonder what percentage of women have hair on their chests?.....Why is that an Aussie depilatory cream is named after a testicle, 'Nads'? Shouldn't it be N0-Nads?.....Wouldn't No-Nads be an excellent name for a chemical sterilization process for child abusers?

Monday, September 03, 2007

Too Damned Early

I woke up last night at 3:30 in the morning, coughing, hacking, and drowning in my own snot. The insane amount of rain this year is better for the pollen count than it is for the state of my sinuses. Flipping through the plethora of infomercials, I came across Early Today. WTF, is The Today Show doing on at three-thirty in the damned morning. The only folks up watching the boob tube at that ungodly hour are a small group of insomniacs, a fraction of late night workers, but mostly a bunch of jonesing meth junkies. I doubt that the largest demographic gives a rat's ass about the state of the world affairs, unless it is giving a list of the best places to get anhydrous ammonia, cold tablets, and other ingredients for their toxin of choice.

Maybe they should have a late night network geared to speed freaks. Here are some programming ideas.

1. Action Movies: Movies without such things as plot and with lots of visual stimulation would work best.

2. NASCAR: They always turn left. If you miss a few laps, so what, they will just be making another left in a second.

3. Cops 2.0: Who knows you might pick up a tip or at least see a friend or your dealer.

4. Animaniacs: Those cartoon idiots have to be tweakers.

5. Denise Austin: That bitch has to be on something. I'm guessing crack but who knows she might be tweaking. No one is that excited about jumping up and down at four freakin' am.

Yep, the Tweaker's Television Network is an idea that's time has come.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

A Nation Of Wussies

I just read an article about the decision of an elementary school in Colorado Springs, Colorado to ban tag. It seems that some of the children felt harassed and were chased against their will. My guess is a couple of fat, lazy, addicted to video games, junk food eating, weaned on freakin' Oprah, couch potatoes had to get up off their lazy asses and actually get some damned exercise. They were probably so traumatized by this tragic forced aerobic activity that they blurted out the whole event while choking down Oreo's in the back of their obese mommies SUV's. If the truth be told these chubby little bastards were most likely pissed because they got tagged right off the fucking bat and then spent the rest of recess wheezing like an eighty year old with a two pack a day habit since they couldn't catch a damn cold in a fucking blizzard.

OMG, first dodgeball gets the black eye and now freakin' tag. What the fuck is next; will they outlaw jump rope for it's connotation of bondage from the rope; will hopscotch face the axe due to teaching graffiti skills, when marking the boxes. When will the wussifacation of America end? When all children are taught to be a bunch of fat, whiny, sue happy, political correct, morons?

Stories like this, are becoming far too commonplace. The Morons are taking over and it damn sure ain't pretty.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

A Graveside Service With Sprinkles On Top

Today while driving down the road, I passed a graveyard. An ice cream van was just coming out of the cemetery. I don't know whether the ice cream van was visiting a relative or friend or just using the cemetery as a turn around spot. Whatever, it got me to thinking about ice cream and death.

I think that I will have an ice cream van show up at my funeral. It is damn near impossible to be sad while eating an ice cream. I can almost picture it. A friend stands up at the graveside to say a few words and the ice cream van pulls up blaring carousel music. Everyone would line up and get themselves a fudge bomb or an orange push up or maybe even one of those delicious Pink Thing's that are sold at Six Flags.
Heck, maybe I can even have the Good Humor Man officiate the thing.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

It's Better To Get Nailed Than To Get Hammered

In Des Moines, Iowa, (Of all places), Satin Delfrano, age 32, was apprehended when three women called to complain that they had been assaulted by a naked woman with a hammer. When the police got there they allowed the naked Delfrano to get dressed and then escorted her out of her apartment in handcuffs. She tried to walk out on her knees and kicked one officer. So adding insult to injury, she has also been charged with assault on a peace officer, criminal mischief, and disorderly conduct.

This story leaves me with a few unanswered questions.

1. Who the hell would name their daughter Satin? I can only guess that they wanted to pre-ordain her to be a stripper.

2. Did she think that she could get away with it? A naked woman with a hammer sticks out like a sore thumb (much like the thumb of a clumsy carpenter).

3. Where can I get my hands on a tape of that 911 call? Three women calling in hysterics about a nude hammer wielding crazy woman would make for great entertainment.

Click here for the news story.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Pup Tales

I recently bought AJ a puppy. She has always wanted a miniature dachshund so I decided to surprise her and get her one since she has been a little down since her heart attack. They say that no good deed goes unpunished and my little gift proves the point. The pup has taken a greater liking to me than AJ. Giving her more fodder to be angry with me.
The little female pooch yaps and whines the whole time with AJ. The minute that I enter the room and speak, Muffy quiets down, wags her little tail, and falls asleep.

Although it comes as a shock to AJ, since my words of endearment to the mutt is generally calling it a furry turd with legs or a flea bitten varmint, it comes as no surprise to me. I have always had a way with the bitches.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Eau De WTF

I am not much on frilly bath products. A good ol' bar of Irish Spring is all that I need. Since I started shaving my noggin, I don't even give a rats ass about shampoo. But yesterday I ran out of my Irish Spring so I reached for AJ's body wash gunk. I looked at the bottle of Dove Body Wash and noticed that the label was bi-lingual. What struck me as odd was the fact that besides English, the label was also in French. Now I know that I am but a simple hick from the sticks but aren't the French known for their aversion to bathing. I know French sounds fancy and all but why the hell do they label that crap in French for use in freakin' BFE Texas when they are a country of folks known for using cologne to cover up their funk rather than washing it off. Some marketing genius must be back on the pipe.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Jamie's Not Crying Anymore

So now that Diamond Dave and Eddie are playing nice and plan on touring and making an album, what else '80's may come back.

  • Big Hair? I now have no hair so I will be completely out of the loop on this one.

  • Miami Vice Suits? Hells Yeah. Two Words: Rico Suave.

  • Gerardo? Hell No. I hate that damned song.

  • Dukes of Hazzard? That's already back.

  • Ah Ha? Uh uh.

  • Safety Dance? Hells Yeah! Midgets dancing in jester hats rule.

  • Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll? I don't know. Mostly sex for me consists of the hallway variety when AJ tells me to go f**k myself passing in the hallway, drugs consists of Tylenol and Pepcid, but I still crank my tunes up. One out of three ain't too bad.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Booze, Guns, Midget Cowboys, And Saloon Girls

I don't really have a story here. I am just posting this for two reasons.
1. This pic tickles the hell out of me.
2. Posts containing booze or guns or midget cowboys or saloon girls get a ton of blog search hits. Or that's what I'm thinking.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Getting Mystical

One of the gifts that Angry Joyce received after her return from the hospital was a glass elephant. Yesterday, Angry Joyce had me place the figurine up on a shelf in the living room with special instructions to point the rear of the elephant towards the front door. According to A.J.'s friend, the elephant is supposed to have mystical powers and when the figure is mooning the front door, money is syphoned into the home.

Being just another damned dumb redneck, I have no friggin' idea how this is supposed to work. The idea of an elephant's ass sucking up money is to my uncultured mind ridiculous. But what the fuck do I know A.J.'s friend comes from a land of deep mysticism, Canada. Go Figger!

Friday, August 03, 2007

I Smell Sex And Vicks

I am not at all loyal to any particular brand of underarm deodorant. I generally just pick up the cheapest or most easily reached on the aisle. This time around though I have found a real freakin' winner. I have discovered that the smell of Speed Stick, Irish Spring Icy Blast when mixed with a hot days worth of sweat smells remarkably like Vicks Vapo-Rub. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Damn That's One Sexy Beast. And Damn you're so freakin' right. Now I'm wondering what it will do for ball sweat. I'm thinking it could possibly give me that warm fuzzy feeling on my scrotum that I so love.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

So You Want To Be The Next President

It is no wonder that Americans don't vote worth a shit. It lasts so damn long and we as a nation have a collective attention span of a one handed on-line porn junkie with the mantra, "Screw all the filler and just get to the good stuff." That and there are only three or four assholes with a meager shot at the big prize. The electoral college is a freakin' joke and no one except Poli-Sci grads and poli-geeks understands it anyway.

Therefore, I have a proposal. The next election should be set up like American Idol. There should be three judges who will canvass the entire nation and hold auditions. The contestants should meet the constitutional requirements ( 35 years old, born an American, no felony convictions, and at least a GED). If you meet the requirements then by God you get your shot.

The three judges should be fashioned somewhat like Idol as well. There should be one asshole that hates damn near everybody and is quick to call someone on the horseshit that they are dishing out. There should be some drunk chick that loves everybody and leaves them feeling good. There should be some guy who talks shit that no one can understand. I have the three judges in mind that would be a diverse segment of the nation. I would make a damn good asshole. I'm thinking that Barbara Walters on a tequila bender would make an excellent job. And who would be better at being hard to understand than Snoop Dogg.

Okay now that we have the judges, I need to set up a few more guidelines. None of the contestants can give their party name or say whether they are conservative or liberal. They must only give their position on subjects. During the final phase when there are only twelve contestants left a subject will be picked for them and they must discuss that subject and only that subject.

The audience will vote by call in method just like Idol and every week one of the contestants are voted off until only one is left. The winner gets to pick his VP since no one seems to give a flying fuck who the VP is anyway.

WTF it can't be any worse than the way it is now. Look at the last two jerkoffs that we have elected.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

I'm Back

Just peeking through the old keyhole to see if everything is safe and sound out here in blogland. Sorry for the long hiatus. I really didn't mean to be gone this long but shit happens. Namely A) Blown Modem from lightning storm. B) Sheer laziness. C) A case of walking pneumonia. and D) Angry Joyce's heart attack.
The modem is replaced, I am still lazy. I am over the crud. And most importantly, Angry Joyce is back at home safe and sound. She is recovering nicely and will no doubt have many years left to be angry.
My long absence has gave me a lot to think about and I am ready to get back to blogging it out of my head so be prepared. Hopefully absence makes the heart grow fonder. I know that I have missed this place and everyone that comes here. Thanks for being patient.

Monday, June 18, 2007

More Bang For The Book

There are books and there are adult books. There are bookstores and there are adult bookstores. There are libraries but I have never heard of adult libraries. I really think there should be, but would the librarians of an adult library be hot young vixens like a porno edition of a naughty librarian or would it be the same image of a librarian with a bun, granny glasses, and a sour expression that comes to mind only wearing skanky underwear underneath their frumpy clothes and shushing people if they make any noise while checking out the fuck books? I don't really know but now I can't get visions of naughty librarians out of my head.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Yet More Wisdom From The Sage

Life is like a bong. Unless you put some really good shit in it, you are just sucking up stale air.

Monday, June 04, 2007

Tagged For Food

Usually I hate tags but The Weirdgirl tagged me with a meme I couldn't refuse. So here in no particular order are five restaurants that know how to fill that empty place in the gut with the tastiest of grub.

Orlando's - (Lubbock, TX) - They bill themselves as being a little Italian and a lot of fun. If you think that Italian and Texas cuisine aren't a match made in heaven, then just order up some Mafia Queso for your appetizer and prepare to be amazed. The pairing of a damn fine chili con queso and Italian sausage served with both tortilla chips and garlic toast will blow your mind. I generally follow that up with a spicy dish such as Sizzle Shrimp, which is shrimp served with a habenero sauce served over angel hair pasta. And if you have room, they serve some desserts that are truly decadent such as the Chocolate Rum Cake. Makes me hungry just writing about it. Natalie Maines was once a waitress at Orlando's but I hope any of you conservatives don't hold that against them.

Joe Allen's - (Abilene, TX) - Next to my barkyard grill, the best barbeque that I have ever wrapped my mouth around was some good ol' mesquite smoked brisket at Joe Allen's. And the big horse trough filled with iced down cold beer as soon as you walk through the door doesn't hurt none at all.

The SmokeStack Restaurant - (Thurber, Tx) - The Smokestack is an awesome experience. Housed in the old company store for the now defunct mine in Thurber, it has that awesome combo of having a great ambiance and some damn fine homestyle cooking. And when you're there don't forget to pick up some Dr. Pepper made the original way in Dublin, TX. It's Dr. Pepper the way that God intended it. Made with pure cane sugar.

Furr's Cafeteria - (Lubbock, TX and a whole lot of other places) - All you can eat, everything from fried chicken, sirloin and mushrooms, liver and onions, fried okra, the best damned mac and cheese ever made, and more stuff on their buffet line than you can shake a stick at. What more could you ask for? Pie, that's what. And they have got it. Just think of any type of pie that you have ever ate and chances are they will have it.

Texas Roadhouse - (Maybe there is one near you.) I am not usually one for big chain restaurants but the Texas Roadhouse is an exception. They have never overcooked my steak one solitary time and that is a big plus for me. When I want it medium rare, I don't want some overzealous cook to destroy a good chunk of beef by cooking all the juicy goodness. And just one tip, don't waste your time with some damned salad. Take the chili instead. They have a mighty tasty chili.

I could go on and on but I will limit myself to these five other than to say if you are going through Dickens, TX then you would be an idiot not to stop at TC's Ponderosa and grab yourself a sliced barbeque brisket sandwich, they could damn near feed two hungry bears. If for some ungodly reason, you ever find yourself in Spur, TX, then you best stop by Los Olivarez and get some of the best damn enchiladas that you will ever eat. And if you find yourself in Matador, TX then stop by Main Street and eat one of the biggest and best burgers ever concocted along with some crazee tastee Onion Rings, and if you tell 'em that Fuzz sent you, you will either get treated royally or kicked out on your ass. That's just according to what the proprietor thinks of my latest post.

Another thing that I got a kick out of was seeing how this meme has played out. Here is how it has got to me.

Nicole (Sydney, Australia)

velverse (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)

LB (San Giovanni in Marignano, Italy)

Selba (Jakarta, Indonesia)

Olivia (London, England)

ML (Utah, United States)

Lotus (Toronto, Canada)

tanabata (Saitama, Japan)

Andi (Dallas [ish], Texas, United States)

Lulu (Chicago, Illinois, United States)

Chris (Boyne City, Michigan, United States)

AB (Cave Creek, Arizona, United States)

Johnny Yen (Chicago, Illinois, United States)

Bubs (Mt Prospect, Illinois, United States)

Mob (Midland, Texas United States)

Yas (Ahwatukee, Arizona USA)

Alicia(Idaho Falls, Idaho, USA)

Tug (Hell, Colorado, USA)

Bond (Memphis, TN, USA)

TopChamp (Glasgow, UK)

Kailani (Honolulu, HI, USA)

Amber (Henderson, TN, USA)

the weirdgirl (San Francisco Bay Area, CA, USA)

Fuzz - ( Spur, America)

So now I will do something that I rarely if ever do. I will go ahead and keep the tag rolling. Here are the lucky tags. Michael at Smoke and Mirrors because I think that his and my tastes are similar and if ever I head up that way then I will know where to strap on my feedbag, Keshi at Viva Forever since I want to know what kind of tune she will put up memorialising food. Lisa B at Lisa B In Da City because I know she will know some awesome eateries (she's just cool like that), Rocky from Rocky Road Scholar because first of all I know he is a lot like me and loves some good eating and I do not remember him ever doing a tag, and Big D and Crazy Dan at West Texas Rocks just to see how much they will contradict me.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Some Things

Some things in life are confusing at first but then are easily mastered. Like the first time as a teen that you encounter a front clasp bra in the front seat of your parents Pontiac.

Some things in life are always confusing like a Spanish speaking soap opera.

Some things make us happy when we are young but the thrill is gone as we age. Like partying until dawn.

Some things always make us happy like seeing a smile on a loved ones face or a good BLT sandwich.

Some things in life are painful at first but then become sweet later in life. Like discovering that the old high school sweetheart that dumped you has now become a fat ugly shrew.

Some things in life are always painful. Like like the cheerleader that you turned down back in high school is even hotter now than she was in high school.

Some things in life bother us at first but now put a smile on our face. Like when a sappy '80's pop song that you hated on the radio now has you singing along on a VH-1 retrospective.

Some things in life always bother us. Like remembering that hot drunken high school cheerleader that you wouldn't get with because you were faithful to your high school cheerleader that eventually dumped you anyway.

Some things in life suck at first but then we adjust. Like having to remember to put down the lid on the toilet after you take a piss.

Some things in life always suck. Like how the fuck could I have passed over the chance to bang that hot drunken cheerleader for that two-timing, backstabbing, fat bitch in the making, high school sweetheart.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Hi Tech World; Lo Tech Redneck

Technology has done wonderful things for mankind. Sometimes though, I wonder if technology has gone just a little too far.

I left one of my thoughts on this subject in a guest post over at Jane's place. If you want too see me at one of my most profound moments click over there and get some food for thought. (Yeh right like I ever get profound. It's more like profane.)

And my thanks to Jane for having me. Hope your readers don't bolt, darlin'. Luv ya!

Sunday, May 27, 2007


On this Memorial Day, I give remembrance to all the brave soldiers who have sacrificed in order to keep us free. Thank you!!!

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Shits And Giggles

Today at work, I went into Central Control and asked the officer in Central to answer a question for me. She has to answer umpteen thousand questions a day regarding security, safety, and matters of great import, so she just gave me one of those looks over the top of her glasses that basically said 'Why don't you go outside and play hide and go fuck yourself.' I gave her my best serious face and asked, " What are the words to Pop Goes The Weasel?'

After laughing her ass off and humming the song, she stated that she didn't know. I then went on my merry way. By the end of the day, she had called the tower, the front office, the supervisor, the Warden, and asked everyone in the facility that stopped by Central. By the end of the day everyone in the entire facility was singing Pop Goes The Weasel in varied lyrics.

If you cannot imagine what it is like for close to fifty adults to be walking around singing Pop Goes The Weasel, let me tell you it is funny as hell. And all because I was trying to get a rise out of one person. It made my day.
( As for the pic, I really couldn't post a pic of a weasel could I? I figured Lil' Bo Peep was a much better visual. Hey it's a nursery rhyme. That's close enough in my book. )

Friday, May 18, 2007

TrailerBilly Dreamin'

Last night I dreamed of inventing a new improved version of Fix-A-Flat. Instead of just plain foam in a can, it was a concoction of crystal meth and Everclear. It fixed flats like all get out but it made your car speed and stop to pick up ugly people of the opposite sex. So I guess I have a few kinks to work out.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Judge Not

I was watching an episode of Judge Alex with Angry Joyce. I generally hate these shows but she was watching it so I sat there and wasted a half hour of my life that I will never get back. On this episode, a man had bought a stripper a couch and two months later moved in with her as a roommate. He was alleging that he owed her $2,600 for the couch. She was contending that it was a loan.
The point where he lost his case came, in my opinion, when he stated that he never wanted a sexual relationship with the stripper. I knew at this point that he was a complete lier. I told Angry Joyce that no man would ever move in with a stripper and not want to have sex with her. Furthermore, it is my contention that there has never been a man that has lived with a woman, that is not a relative, and not wanted to have sex with her at one time or another. Eventually in a state of either loneliness, horniness, boredom, or drunkenness, he will want to bang her.
At this point, I looked over and Angry Joyce was glaring at me with a look of sheer disgust. I told her that she could stop looking at me like a was a dog because it is just what every man would think, if he was honest. She said that was right; All men are dogs. She's most likely right, maybe I should buy her a couch.

Monday, May 07, 2007

A Simple Word Of Advice

If you ever hear your wife make the statement, " I was a raving bitch at work today", it might not be wise to say, " So, you finally took your show on the road."
Oh well, as I always say, live and learn. Although some lessons are more painful than others. Anyone know how to take dents out of cast iron skillets?

Friday, May 04, 2007

Come See The Softer Side Of Me

I guess Michael at Smoke and Mirrors wondered if I had a serious side. He asked me to stretch a bit and write a slice of life post. I wrote one that needs a crusty voice over by Wilford Brimley.
So yes, I have a serious side. It's just that it's a lot like the Red Hot Chili Pepper's members in concert, I keep a sock over it. So what are you waiting for? Click Here and check out ' The Pond'. While you are at it give Smoke and Mirrors a good read. He's got the skills and when he lets it rip, there's just no telling where he can take you.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Cinco De Geek

I wanted to join Sugdaddy and all of Vic's friends in congratulating Vic on the completion of her Masters degree. He has proclaimed May 5th as Cinco De Geek and I wholeheartedly endorse it. Words seem such a poor thing to use in describing my admiration for my incredible friend. She is a survivor that can take what life can dish out and not only survive but thrive. She is a beautiful person both outside and inside. And most of all she is a woman of warmth and humor that manages to put up with my offbeat (lack of) wit. I am truly blessed to count her as a friend. That and she has some of the best damn HNT's around.
I would like to encourage everyone to stop by Vic's place and wish her congratulations. While you are at it, stop by and read a bit of her blog. You won't be disappointed. I never am.
While my words are a poor thing indeed, I hope that it would be some consolation to Vic that my favorite HNT pic's that she has done is now one of my favorite pin ups on this blog.
(And the pin-up by Garv on the left of this post has always reminded me of Vic. I hope she doesn't mind sharing a little of the glory in being the pin up of this post.)

Sunday, April 29, 2007

No Crime Just Punishment

The fifteen year old female that resides in my home screwed up and damn that makes me happy. She came in two hours after her curfew and I relish punishments. It is when some of those distasteful chores that I have to do around the house actually get done.
I came by this honestly. My father loved to catch me screwing up. He did not yell or curse but would only smile an evil little grin and put my ass to work. I worked on the farm every weekend but he would always save the shittiest chores for those times that I had either come home late or came home smelling like a brewery. Before the glow of false dawn, he would crank up Iron Butterfly's 'In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.' To this day, when I hear that tune, I feel hung over and pissed off.
Today while I am puttering around, barbequeing and putting down a few cold brews, she will be busy de-junglefying the back yard, straightening up the carport, and the list is only as large as my imagination. And damn doesn't that Iron Butterfly sound sweet!!!

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Simple Sam

Simple Sam had a mean little itch
And it was making his life one hell of a bitch.
He spent his days gouging and clawing
Thinking his days were soon to be drawing.

You see he had picked up a problem allergy
To his sweet little woman's sweet little coochie.
With normal sex his nether region went through hell,
But with oral it was worse when his face started to swell.

He tried Benydryl and Claritin D
He even tried several home remedies.
But nothing would cure that itching curse.
He could think of no ailment that could possibly be worse.

But the answer came to him in a bright flash of light.
He would broach the answer to his sweet little woman that night.
He told her his problem and the answer so clear.
Until his rash cleared up. Could he take her from the rear?

Monday, April 16, 2007

Texas Lil's

The sun always shines on the place down the road
And to get me to go you won't have to goad.
At Texas Lil's Bar and Grill, Tittie Flop, Tattoo Parlor, Day Spa, and Exotic Meats.
Every visit is a dream voyage sticky and sweet.

The day starts at noon with a Grilled Cheese
And a gentleman's club par excellance with just a slight touch of sleaze.
Then it's off for a tat, either a tribal arm band or a touching tramp stamp.
And to close it all out to the Sauna to get a little damp.

Then bring home a little wild turkey
Or possibly a little armadillo jerky.
The possibilities are endless at this place not like home
I wonder what could be said by that wandering gnome.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Unsung Heroes: #1. Amateur Porn Director

Here's to you, weird neighbor Phil down the block. Where would the world be without your dedication and diligence to the world of amateur perversion? Probably a thousand grainy video clips short in the old spam box.

Not many have the sheer stick-to-it, never say die, attitude, that makes you the freak that you are. When a starlet-to-be has that little accident on the anal scene, you are there with a clean towel and a kind word. When the mess is cleaned up and the lens dusted off, it's take two and full steam ahead. When the star of the shows get up and go gets up leaves, you are in your element. If that little blue pick me up doesn't get the job done, then by golly you damn sure can.

Oral, Anal, Girl on Girl, Guy on Girl, Bukake, BBW, S&M, Farm Animals Gone Bad; You can do it all. You are a true jack off of all porn trades. That's what makes you a great unsung hero.
So until Budweiser gets off their ass and makes you a star in their Real Men of Genius campaign, here's to you Amateur Porn Director, Blugstuff's first Unsung Hero.

( This post is dedicated to the lost but never forgotten blog, 'Accidental Goat Sodomy.')

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Dreaming Of A White Easter

Once again the annual Easter cold snap has hit. Yesterday we received a large snowfall. Although most of the snow melted yesterday afternoon, this morning the sky opened up and light snows fell on a crisp Easter morn. At least people don't have to color eggs in order to hide them good in the snow. Happy Easter, y'all.