Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Goethe and Sophocles

Didn't have an eventful weekend. I spent most of it taking iron supplements and beating off near magnets.

Speaking of which, I want Hillary Swank. She is so damned cute. People keep saying "but she's not that good looking" or "she's too toothy." Well guess what - I don't give a shit what you think. I've never really liked those Barbie doll kind of chicks anyway. In high school, when ever a cheerleader type angled to be my meat sleeve, I would just blow her off, so to speak. Let it be known - I want to sky-write Hillary Swank's name with my jism! I would crawl 5 miles on broken glass just to be able to maturbate in the shadow of a bucket of her neighbor's shit. Perhaps I will pen Hillary a letter asking if she would like to be my cum dumpster. I'm sure you can tell there's still a little romance left in 'ole Wheel Gun.

Sometimes I think I live in an intellectual vacuum. All people seem to care about these days is "reality" TV or whatever fucking sitcom is all the rage. The last sitcom I watched was "All In The Family." So if you want to drop some stupid "Steinfeld" or "Friends" reference on me, your're out of luck. I still like to exercise my mind on occasion.

Case in point: I was pondering Goethe and Sophocles the other morning after an outrageous night of drinking and late night visit to Gilley's. And I had this life altering intellectual/philosophical insight: In effect, a weird little animated diorama of "man's inhumanity to man" was playing out in my very own rectum. I had to take a wicked dump! REALLY. I mean serious dirt kissing fecal urgency. Trouble is when you are in a house with only one shitter and 5 people, you sometimes have to wait your turn. But waiting was out of the question. It was either the bathroom or the bucket on the sub-zero breezway. So I did that buttock clenching tip-toe dance you do when ya gotta go bad. I made it up to the bathroom but a roommate was already on the throne. So what did I do? I stopped pondering Goethe and Sophocles.

My nephew The Cod God has a very amusing blog up about the time he blew himself up as a kid. It's all true. I was there. I was very proud of him. Still am.

Let's all chip in and buy the Philadephia Eagles a shit load of Adolph's Meat Tenderizer so they will at least have a hope of getting the blood stains out of their underwear after the Super Bowl next week.

Thank you for letting me lay all this filth on you guys. You can probably tell I had a bad night at work. My misfortune, your fortune. Or something. Sorry, Mika.

1 Comments:

At 9:20 AM, Blogger The Cod God said...

In high school, when ever a cheerleader type angled to be my meat sleeve, I would just blow her off, so to speak.

When was that?

 

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