Friday, July 08, 2005


Two nights ago, just when I was about to talk evil Krissy into taking her clothes off on cam, my connection stopped.
And it hasn't been on since. So I dunno when I'll be back.

see ya.

Monday, July 04, 2005

Ten fun things I'd do if I had Tits!

Inspired by my friend Evil Krissy's article Penis, I've done a lot of thinking and soulsearching, trying to become more in touch with my feminine side. Let's get one thing straight though. If I were to have tits, they'd be massive, humongous, hughe and firm! Cause that's the kind of guy I am.

1. Stare and drool at my nude body in the mirror all day.
2. Wear a t-shirt without a bra. Pinch my nipples until they're really hard. Then angrily enquire what all those guys are staring at.
3. I'd start conversations with complete strangers saying: "Don't you hate it when your nipples hurt?"
4. Step up to the dateless, ugly, flat-chested chick and say: "I hate men. Every man I meet asks me out, just cause of my tits."
5. Step up to any man on the street, (Preferably one accompanied by his woman.), and say: "I'm sorry. I do not consider strange men staring at my tits a compliment."
6. I'd name the left one Tom and the right one Jerry.
7. I'd go to the local pool topless and when inquired say they are my floation device.
8. I'd bounce on a trampoline until I ended up in the emergency room with no clue who i was. (Who needs booze when you have tits.)
9. I'd master the art of drinking beer from a glass, without using my hands.
10. Burn my bra! Then 50 years later when my 'partner' asks what's for breakfast, flash him and yell: "PANCAKES!"

Sunday, July 03, 2005

I'll never give up smoking

There is no sociological phenomena, more intriguing, more baffling, than 'the party'. Throughout my life, I've been trying to understand why humans feel the need to occasionally gather in their hippest outfits, for a bout of funny dancing, binge drinking and the mass consumption of cocktail wieners on sticks.
There are 'ok' parties, which involve free beer, nudity and me going home with a chick that's too dumb to finish highschool.
There are bad parties, which involve funny hats, dancing with your aunt, and me giving some ugly bitch a ride home.
And then there are the parties from hell.
A large circle of chairs, seating a variety of friends and family members, carefully balancing cake on paper plates. The obligatory urine-incontinent grandmother, carefully tucked away in the corner. At some point an 'Uncle' will arrive, smiling broadly and wringing his hands, loudly proclaiming that the party has started since he has arrived. 'Uncle' will immediately make his way to granny for a big sloppy kiss; find the host and hiss that he's not taking her to the home this time cause he can still smell the last time in his car.

Maybe that's why I smoke so much. I can run outside whenever I feel an attack of party-hyperventilation coming up. Flee and light up. People will join me, but there's no need to talk cause we're there to smoke. Just smoke, drink your beer and shut the fuck up. My kind of party.