Alone again or
As many of you might know, it’s been a rough week for me.
My roommate moved out, he’s going back to school. And also my girlfriend has been in the wilds of Montana for what feels like a month.
So I’ve been desperately lonely for human contact. I went so far as to watch Jerry and his kids on Monday, he didn’t do much while I watched but he looked healthy, that was good to see. Of course I had to miss his flare up. I also missed Blake fall apart at the open, it looked like he had it in the bag so I quit watching.
Finally I caught a break.
Last night I went to take out the recycling and lo and behold, Danimal had left a year’s worth of Playboys in the recycling bin. I quickly made sure my neighbors weren’t watching and scurried back inside to read them.
The articles were amazing, interviews with luminaries, in depth exposés on government treaties, and funny cartoons (did you know how many secretaries in today’s business world are sexually promiscuous? I had no idea!)
Then I sort of noticed that every few pages there were other ladies in various stages of undress. It sort of made it hard to concentrate on the articles. All those ladies made me feel funny in my hidden parts. But all the lady’s faces were twisted up in manners of ill repute. This vexed me to no end. I worked around my distaste, nay distrust, of the ladies by cutting out a picture of my girlfriend’s face and gluing it to a popsicle stick. Then I was able to strategically place her face over the faces of the fanciful ladies while I read the magazines.
Problem Solved.
My roommate moved out, he’s going back to school. And also my girlfriend has been in the wilds of Montana for what feels like a month.
So I’ve been desperately lonely for human contact. I went so far as to watch Jerry and his kids on Monday, he didn’t do much while I watched but he looked healthy, that was good to see. Of course I had to miss his flare up. I also missed Blake fall apart at the open, it looked like he had it in the bag so I quit watching.
Finally I caught a break.
Last night I went to take out the recycling and lo and behold, Danimal had left a year’s worth of Playboys in the recycling bin. I quickly made sure my neighbors weren’t watching and scurried back inside to read them.
The articles were amazing, interviews with luminaries, in depth exposés on government treaties, and funny cartoons (did you know how many secretaries in today’s business world are sexually promiscuous? I had no idea!)
Then I sort of noticed that every few pages there were other ladies in various stages of undress. It sort of made it hard to concentrate on the articles. All those ladies made me feel funny in my hidden parts. But all the lady’s faces were twisted up in manners of ill repute. This vexed me to no end. I worked around my distaste, nay distrust, of the ladies by cutting out a picture of my girlfriend’s face and gluing it to a popsicle stick. Then I was able to strategically place her face over the faces of the fanciful ladies while I read the magazines.
Problem Solved.
Labels: It made my Pepe throw up milk
posted by The Cruise at 10:27 AM
6 Comments:
After reading for a few minutes, I found the bodies distasteful as well, and put down the magazine. I spent the rest of the night talking to the disembodied head on the popsicle stick.
Then I disrobed and danced in front of the mirror while I informed myself of things that I would do to me once I finished that skin suit.
You paint a highly erotic picture.
Am I the only one that reads this blog anymore. Two lonely cowboys on the prairie with occasional passings of other humans. This blog mirrors what you described as you lonely life.
The site visit meter keeps going up.
There are roughly 11 visitors a week, ranking this site in the bottom 3 percent of blogs in the US.
It needs an overhaul to bring in a new demographic. I might start rating types of gum. Or discuss Blazer's personnel moves.
Invite special guests. One you could invite is a dude they had on the 700 Club today. He wrote "23 Minutes in Hell." This guy claims that Jesus let him experience Hell in a vision so he could communicate the warning to others. I will put aside rediculous nature of his claim and all the logical fallacies and circular arguments and just focus on the adolescent and cliched nature of his vision. Hell was "down in the Earth" and people were burning. He kept referring that "this is all in the Bible, everything I saw." Do you think he was influenced by these stories in a hallunication/nightmare probably spurred by a bad burrito? "There were demons with scales cursing God and humans. They hate humans because they are made in his image.... There were snakes and maggots and large spiders, all kinds of things you don't want to see." Wow, sounds like a preteens idea of a really scarey haunted house. This begs the question (which links to your previous post), is religious belief indications of mental disorders to varing degrees or a lack of mental development? Notice that I only give two choices.
OMG Cruise, you are so clever. Just about as clever as your TD job this weekend. Stacked the brackets in your favor and still got shut down? Priceless! Bad spirit karma comin' your way, 'bout time.
OMG Cruise, you are so clever. Just about as clever as your TD job this weekend. Stacked the brackets in your favor and still got shut down? Priceless! Bad spirit karma comin' your way, 'bout time.
It's a good thing you posted this anonymously, because fuck you. I ran the tournament the only way I know how, 100% by the rules. The brackets were done exactly to UPA standards for 15 teams 5 bids, and all teams were ranked according to RRI standings. We came in ranked 7th, and ended up 6th. I have no clue how you think that is stacking things in our favor and then getting shut down.
If you'd like to respond to me personally I'd love to also get the chance to tell you to go fuck yourself to your face.
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