Thursday, December 30, 2010

The Adventures of Half-Sack.

Well, I was going to keep this to myself, but what better to share my shitty fucked up life with you dicks, who will eventually use it to attack me with pathetic insults and comebacks only your mom would ask back. All of you may know me as the gentle, kind and loving guy who always talked about how big his balls are and how you'll never amount to anything. You got that right. Especially the balls part. This is a story about my testicles, and how paying attention to your beans will pay out in the end. Especially when you're early. They aren't kidding when they say to inspect your body for anything unnatural. I did that, and found Gilligan's Island growing on my right nut. Things didn't really seem different until I started to notice drastic changes and slight pain. My body was telling me to get it checked but the porn was telling me to stay. Decisions like this are usually saved for the most important of men, and that day, I was a VIP in my own right. I could say this is all life changing, but so is taking a dump, because they're all usually never the same. Gratifying if you will. This however did make me see things in a whole new light, and somehow, I'm going to be a little more cautious and less arrogant when it comes to watching porn. Oh and life as well.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Instead of being a closed minded cock bolt, try something different for a change, you saggy old vagina.

Food. It doesn't stop at just apples and mangoes. Pineapple shouldn't be the biggest extreme of your life. Going to Mandarin shouldn't be considered fine dining. Well, unless all you've ever tried in your life was fried foods served in Styrofoam containers. Sure, it's awesome to stick with what's known and good, but sometimes you gotta ask yourself if there's something else out there. Instead of ordering pizza, go to an actual pizza restaurant. See how REAL pizza is made. You probably want to say, " BUT JP LOLZ, ITZ 2 EXPENSIV LOLZ.!" Well, my illiterate shit stain, instead of spending money on fast food all the time, or clothes you'll never wear, games you'll never play after beating or toys because you're really an infantile jerk at heart - you can easily save, oh I don't know, 20 bucks? Because fresh, restaurant made pizza doesn't cost you your first born. Usually people are so close minded when it comes to eating out ( I'll get on the thing you're thinking of in another blog you dumb fuck.), that they always feel that going out means they have to dish out loads of money. This is only true if you are retarded and pay more than 10 bucks for chicken wings. Especially when it comes in a basket with paper outlining.

Friday, December 10, 2010

A blog about Fashion, and why you DON'T look good.

Okay listen up women. I love you. I love everything about you in terms of anatomy. I love the fact that you curl your toes when you hit an orgasm, or when you scream into a pillow to soften the yell. I love that you claw at my back when I hit the right spot, or bite my lip when I kiss you the right way. I love when you drop something, only to pick it up and tuck your silken hair behind your ear. I love when you accidentally burp, then covering your mouth only to burp louder. I love when you go out to get me something that you think I like, and wind up getting something different but with good intent. I love that you wear my pj's because they're warm as hell and you look super cute with those pants. I love it when you wear my leafs jersey during a game, and after when things get intimate. I love when I play my favorite video game, you go out and research it, then coming back with a plush doll of one of the characters which ends up being used as a toy for my dog/cat. I love when you wear that red lingerie and while walking outdoors you hint towards it, and we end up doing a quickie in your dad's car. I love when you drink too much that your cheeks turn red and you trip over your feet only to fall on my lips and bust a nerve or something, causing us both to hit the ER. I love when you pass your exam fully excited, only to come home to your sick boyfriend, and nurturing him back to health so he can go back to playing Call of Duty. I love so much about you, and I can list much more. But for fuck's sake please stop wearing those shitty boots.