Tuesday, September 30, 2008
OK, mommy needs her baby boy...
come lay in my lap and drink from my full breasts...
I'll keep you warm in a blanket and stroke your skin as you take your fill of my milk. mama rewards good boys, but if you are cranky at first that is ok, I'll take care of your needs. Send me a note telling me how thirsty and hungry you are. How badly do you need to latch on to my nipples while I keep you safe and warm like a good mommy should? more info makes this happen faster...and my TITS are feeling quite full, lets make this happen, Please help mama release some pressure. My place or yours. talk soon! Kathy
I’ll give everyone a minute to remove their head from the barf bag…Better now? No? Still seeing your morning coffee in reverse? Okay, one more minute for you…
Are we ready now? Great! If anyone else was a huge “Friends” fan like me, the image of Chandler and Ross jumping back with their eyes ready to roll out of their skull while Joey puts some of Carol’s stored breast milk into his coffee rushes into their mind like a raging, wheelbarrow wielding 45 year old lady, that owns over twenty cats, to a spilled truck load of Meow Mix. Granted, while watching that, you probably laughed it off but with poor Kathy here, you want to scratch your eyeballs out with a coat hanger and stab your thigh repeated with a used Spork just to make you think of something else, anything else. I agree completely!
Kathy’s attempts to find a mate by tempting the male gender with a nutritious, vitamin filled snack while they lay on a lap too small to hold them which belongs to a clearly unstable and barely legal stranger that has either overactive mammary glands, or a very small child attached to the other nipple, is preposterous! After all, what man will touch anything healthy without being threatened with bodily harm?
Maybe Kathy would have better luck saying her milk from her right breast tastes like a slider burger from White Castle and the left’s flavor would make them think they are chugging down an ice cold Miller Genuine Draft, as long as their eyes were closed and their tongue was covered in taste censoring blisters.
I wish Kathy all the luck in the world. After all, I remember the discomfort I felt when my breasts were so full of milk, I couldn’t even put my arms down at my side because, oddly enough, my armpits seemed to grow boobs. And I didn’t even have to lay on my back for that to happen! So any relief she can get is fantastic. Maybe we can put her in touch with Mack.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Send me everything and anyting you have to firstname.lastname@example.org
I FEEL SO DESPERATE, LIKE SOMEONE I KNOW IS GOIN TO SEE THIS AND SAY "HEY WHAT YOU DOING ON HERE" BUT LIKE LL COOL J WOULD SAY "I NEED LOVE" HAHAHA.... I AM AN AFRICAN AMERICAN WOMAN, 24 YEARS OF AGE MOTIVATED WOMAN THAT LOVES HER JOB. I AM A DIRECTOR OF FIRST IMPRESSIONS IN THE HOSPITALITY FIELD. I STAND 5 FEET TALL, NICE SMILE, EAR LENGTH HAIR, STRAIGHT TEETH. IM ALWAYS TIRED BUT NEVER GET SLEEP. WHAT I LIKE IN A MAN: AGE IS OPEN JUST DONT BE IN HIGH SCHOOL AND NOT ON VACATION FROM YOUR NURSING HOME. RACE IS OPEN AS WELL IVE DECIDED TO NOT PUT AN AGE OR RACE ON LOVE...... I LIKE STRAIGHT TEETH, A PERSON THAT LIKES TO LOOK NICE AND TAKE CARE OF HIM SELF. SOMEONE THAT KNOWS HOW TO TAKE CARE OF HIMSELF BUT DOESNT MIND HIS WOMAN TAKING OVER. I LOVE A GUY THAT UNDERSTANDS THAT A WOMANS WORTH IS PRICELESS.... I WANT A GUY THAT WILL SUPPORT MY IDEAS EVEN WHEN WE BOTH KNOW THERE STUPID. IM LOOKING FOR A RIGHT FOR MY LEFT, IM LOOKING FOR A BEAT FOR MY…ALYSHA
Well, Alysha, let me break a few things down for you. Let's start with the most obvious. The Cap Locks. For the love of all that is assbackwards and smelly, why oh WHY must you type in all caps? Do you know what it says to the world, "I'M A FUCKING MORON!" It screams that you have very little education and that holding a conversation with you would be like holding bat-blind skunk. We have to move slowly and carefully as we try to maneuver through dinner or else some foul smell will omit out of your ass as you try to figure out what the hell just happened. We're better of just trying to avoid you as we pass you on the street.Secondly, 18 to 80 is your age range? So you're okay with changing diapers, no matter which end of the age spectrum it comes from. Brilliant! That will sure put the odds in your favor! The only real stipulation to age is that you don't live with your parents and that your kids haven't shipped you off to the Ye 'Ol Dust Fart farm.
Translation time! "DIRECTOR OF FIRST IMPRESSIONS IN THE HOSPITALITY FIELD" really means “I wipe the cum stains off of my Pimp's other ho's spandex in hopes to lure back Charlie Sheen. I'm also in charge of tucking the trannies!” She must work in the busy side of town because she's "ALWAYS TIRED BUT NEVER GET SLEEP." The number of sperms she wipes off in an hour dwarfs the National Deficit. I'm sure by now she has turned the tucking of a limp, unused penis into an art form. Bravo!
Full translation of ad: Hi! I'm short, dropped out of school when I was 7, I need you in order to be happy, don't wear a weave and help make the local prostitutes jobs far more financially beneficial. What I want is a nerdy little white boy with no life or thoughts of his own to worship me and tell my big ass is the hottest thing since CoCo Pebbles. I'm very co-dependent so be ready to be my sole source of happiness. Don't leave me! I neeeeed you! I want to come with you when you pee. I can't be without you. You must listen to rap and know who my idol, LL Cool J, is. He really drops the knowledge. Wait, where are you going? Don't let a mild heart attack keep me away from you! Come back!
Help me out, i just moved to the area and need some money for rent and some other things, it wont be cheap but we can get to know each other and see how things go. Pam
I’m just going to throw it out there. You are a lazy, worthless sow. Get off of your 40 acre ass, roll outside and go sling some fries. Don’t eat those fries though. For pond scum like you, we will be serving Koala dung on a fresh slice of elephant foot shaving. To drink, you can wash it down with a hot, steaming cup of leech slime.
Pam, no man that actually has money will answer to this ad. If you’re looking to trade services for, say, two cups of the finest Famunda cheese* on your side of the tracks, then you’ll surely hit the jackpot. With it, you could make a tasty sandwich on your back bacon** with a healthy serving of butt butter***. So, ultimately, you would get a meal out of offering yourself to the highest bidder. I think you're setting the bar too high to expect anything else. After all, what do you truly have to offer?
Normally, when women are looking to make a buck or two off of a schmuck dumb enough to fall for them, they are sly, cool, calm, blood-thirsty giraffes that use their wiles, and by wiles I mean tits, to lure him in before taking over his checkbook and receiving a new car with vanity plates that say “ImWthStupid” on it.
Good luck, Pam. I’m sure someone will be seeing you under the nearest bridge!
*Famunda cheese; noun. Pronounced “fa-mun-dah” Definition: A cream cheese paste like substance that forms behind, and on, the male testicles after sweating all day and being forced to have the testicles rub against the leg. Reference: “From-under” the ballsack, Ball sweat.
**Back Bacon; noun. Pronounced “Bah-k Bay-con” Definition: The two bulbous mounds just above your hip bones on the lower part of your back. Reference: Muffin Top, Love Handles, Overflow
***Butt Butter; noun. Pronounced: “Buh-t Buh-ter” Definition: A thick, Elmer’s glue like residue that forms in ones ass-crack after sweating for an extended period of time. Reference: Anal Discharge, Gross.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
That being said...I want you naughty little tarts to scour the net and find me the most insane outfits and/or size inappropriate clothing (remember, spandex is a privilege, NOT A RIGHT!) photos you can! Shoot 'em to my gmail.
If you fail to give me ammo, I will hunt you down and shove my yellow rubbermaid gloves that I just used to clean my gelding's sheath with right down your throat! Beans and all!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Good Afternoon,I am writing on behalf of a Manhattan-based female celebrity for whom I am an assistant to. She is looking for a group of about 5-6 men whom she can keep in an on-call position for sexual favors, such as sensual massage, oral sex, sex, and various other activities. You will be paid when called on to perform a task in addition to a weekly courtesy stipend you will receive for being on call.
If interested, please respond with a PICTUE (preferably one of your face and one nude), and answer the following questions:
1. Age? Height? Weight? Length of penis(erect)?
2. Where are you located?3. What are your hours of availability?
4. What is your occupation?
5. What is your level of sexual experience?
6. Are you disease free? What was the date of your last test?
If interested, we will contact you to arrange a phone and personal interview. If chosen you will be asked to receive testing for AIDS/HIV and STD's (we will cover the cost).Thank You.
So right now you are probably thinking, “Heck! This is one hell of a deal. I get paid to live my life as I do right now and if I’m called to shoot my load, I get paid more! And they said I wouldn’t amount to anything if I dropped out of Elementary school!” So you put on your best Goodwill Green Tag special suit, apply a good dose of Suave Deodorant to your armpits and the bottoms of your feet, because why bother showering until you actually get the job, and attempt to gel down your side burns which coincidentally seem to be forming their own ecosystem, complete with green sprouts, enough dirt to grow a bushel of potatoes and something that lets out a humming sound every now and then.
You show up about 15 late because you hear that is the cool thing to do. After all, you are cool and you want to make sure that your new boss knows it. As you ring the doorbell, you give yourself the best pep talk in the world of pep talks.
“You fuckin’ rock man! ROCK! If they can’t see that right away, whip out your humongo dick and wave it at them just like you waved it at the hunched over little old lady that told you shitting on her doorstep while she was teaching her grandson how to play dominos wasn’t a good idea. The sheer sight of me wiggling my cock at her like I was swinging an overly boiled hotdog sure changed her mind! Let the magic of your dick speak for you!” As you look down at your crotch, you remind it, “Dude, you’re the best!”
Just then, the door opens. You’re expecting Pamela Anderson wearing nothing but a rubber band and scratch-n-sniff sticker. The first thing you see is a set of 3” red stilettos. Your eyes slowly gaze upward to pale, but shapely legs. You reach what appears to be a satin robe that falls just below your new bosses naughty bits. Like a stealthy platypus, you continue devouring the sight before you with your eyes, moving upward to the face but not without noticing two very large and very perky milk machines.
Yes! Here comes the face! Holy shit! It’s Liza Minelli! You say, “Nooooo!” But the Dude in your pants says, “Yessssss!”
Monday, September 22, 2008
I met you at that after hours place Switchblade Friday night / Sat morning. We talked for a few hours and then I find myself tied up, you were wearing a clown suit and we were in a dark damp basement. Anyway, I had a great time and I'd like to see you again. Please contact me. Jill
When I first read the headline and then the opening sentences, I thought “tied up” meant that he kept her busy for a few hours. It sounded like the chance meeting of two long lost souls, destine to meet that very night, under that lung blackening smoke cloud right above their heads, giving the “Schmidt Beer” sign enough of a hazy cover that you swore it said, ironically enough, “Shit Beer” instead. It had me tilting my head and letting out that sound us women make at the sight of a cute puppy romping gleefully through Shasta daisies, chasing after the prettiest purple butterfly we’ve ever seen. My heart leapt with joy at the thought of two blissful mates becoming one while a flock of fantail doves took flight into the moonlight.
Then I got smacked upside the head by a 2-day-old slab of road kill that once resembled a raccoon. SAY WHAT? Holy shit! Back the fuck up! Did I just read this right? Suddenly visions of Krusty The Klown on Krack flew into my head like a frying pan flying at a no good cheatin’ spouse in a trailer park.
Apparently Jill thinks a good time involves kidnapping, mold and a lot of white makeup. If you really want to see her ovaries perform the flying trapeze, have shoes 8 sizes too big and a flower that squirts hippopotamus milk when you get punched in the ball sack. As if that isn’t enough, if you come equipped with your very own bug infested leaky basement that smells a lot like your Grandma Jean’s bra after she was working in the garden all day, she’ll be yours until the end of time.
So if you’re the prince charming with a clown suit or fetish, be sure to track Jill down. She’ll be the psycho in the park feeding birds to the pinecones. Bring your own rope.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Hey I am a 19 year old Hispanic girl seeking smart, attractive, well dressed, hipster, to donate sperm. Need somebody with good health, disease free, and no funky family problems like webbed feet, or a fondness for plaid. Really fashionable artsy a plus! I am looking to get pregnant and would require it to be done the "old fashioned way" Unless you would like to help me with the turkey baster (negotiable). In return I’ll clean your house for three months once a week on Sundays at 3 pm. send picture's please...... your place. Maria (xxx)xxx-xxxx
You: A pulse, 10 clearly defined toes, a complete pig that is far too lazy to pick up your shithole townhouse and get rid of the smell of week old urine and beer and Gayer then the Almighty Drag Queen Champion of The Greater San Francisco Bay Area.
Me: A warm hole and have my own yellow Rubbermaid gloves.
If you’re going to respond to our lovely friend, Maria, be sure to fork over your bankcard, wallet and any other source of money you may have. If you do that right away you’ll be ready and warmed up for the next 18 years and 9 months because buddy, she isn’t looking for sperm! That is just her way of reaching up through your pisshole to your wallet, taking a firm hold of it with a grip that would put the jaws of a rabid rabies infest pitbull to shame.
Not only are you facing seeing only 40% of all future paychecks, being forced to give up your spacious townhouse for a studio apartment where the only source of heat is the steaming piles of rat shit in the corners and trading in your Lexus for a 1978 Gremlin that is being held together with Mr. Twisties and packing tape, you can opt for not getting even a second of satisfaction out of this transaction by jerking off into a sandwich baggy then squeezing it into your Grandma’s turkey baster before handing it threw a barely cracked open door to someone on the other side that is talking to themselves.
I just ordered a 55 Gallon drum of Vaseline for the poor schmuck that falls for this dream girl! He’s looking to get laid, she’s looking to get paid.
I'm sure Betty's parents had high expectations for their daughter. They were sure to pick out the best schools, took on second or third jobs just so their sweet daughter could travel abroad and become something great like an Ambassador, International Trade Executive or a doctor saving lives in a third world country. They could see her skipping through a field of Black-eyed Susans, hand in hand with a Biologist from only the best of families. They bought her first computer to help aid in her studies and her path to greatness that would make history.
Imagine their sheer terror as their beloved daughter showed up for the family Christmas dinner looking like she had just spent the last week chasing down 3 year olds on their big wheels with her homemade Staff of Eternal Alchemy because the sounds of their gleeful giggling distracted her and prevented her from leveling up and taking the evils Sloth Lord down and gain bragging rights over her clansmen.
Just when poor ol' Mum and Dad thought it couldn't get any worse, Betty introduces her "boyfriend" whom she tells Aunt Rosemary that she met as the result of a 4 person gang bang at her apartment. In order to stop her Aunt's impending heart failure, she quickly adds, "It's okay! It's not like I did it for nothing. I got a shitload of WOW money so I could by myself a troll to assfuck me in-between battles!!"
Christmas will never be the same. Neither will Aunt Rosemary who is now snorting her applesauce through a rolled up Dilbert cartoon clipping in-between attempts to bite her own ear. The family will forever blame Betty for her nervous breakdown. But Betty will never tell her secret that Aunt Rosemary was part of the hot, sweaty and gnome filled night and where Betty got her 5000 gold.
Friday, September 19, 2008
I AM SEEKING SOMEONE WITH SWAGGER
You know who and what you are and what talents and qualities that you possess if you are reading or even going to reply to this ad. A couple of guidines: 1. If you must ask what "swagger" is, you may not have it 2. And if you got it, you definately have all credentials in place to justify your swagger 3. NO one under 25, again unless your "swag" is so together then it truly doesnt matter Okay, Here's me: I am VERY sexy Realistic and open-minded black woman, who is secure with herself, who has a nice SHAPLEY full figure, who has much to offer no matter the rapport! Let's talk! Tina
I'm the first to admit I've lived a fairly sheltered life that consisted of rainbows, butterflies and the fact that I was over 200 miles from a mall of any substance. An ideal mate in my neck of the woods still has most of their own teeth, only 1 DUI and 3 credits from our local community college. Before the internet came ranging into my life like a teenage boy running away from a pack of hormonal cheerleaders that just caught him masturbating with his sisters underwear, I never knew such qualifications played an important part on who is fuckable and who didn't even stand the chance to sniff a woman's belly button lint that was left in a ball next to the trash can.
Apparently, Tina has the inside information. You MUST have a big ol' heaping pile of swagger. That's the key folks. If you are swagalious enough, you can dip your three solid inches of raging thunder in a shapely realist.
So do you find yourself going, "Hey, Mary, can you please, tell me what 'swagger' is." Well my friend, I don't have a fucking clue! That being said, I decided to crack out my dust covered Webster’s Dictionary.
Dictionary results for swagger:
1. to walk or strut with a defiant or insolent air.
2. to boast or brag noisily.
3. to bring, drive, force, etc., by blustering.
4. swaggering manner, conduct, or walk; ostentatious display of arrogance and conceit.
What I've been able to figure out, is our friend Tina wants a man who is very vocal about the fact that he thinks he's a God, builds up enough momentum to crash through the Great Wall of China and limps. So fellas, if you're looking for an out of shape, know-it-all that will be sure to point out every single thing you do wrong in bed, even if you are standing in front if a group of nuns that were once your elementary teachers, yet you lack enough "swag" to please this top-notch Republican, remember to don your "I have the biggest fucking dick in the world" T-Shirt, ask the neighborhood Girl Scout Troop to bash your left leg in with a petrified hamster and run through at least six Mack truck trailers before even attempting to reply to Tina.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Before we launch forward into that of the bitchy, the moody, the whiney and dramatic, let me make one thing clear. We, as a female, are down right vicious. We think, nay, we know, you are a fuck-up. The general population of women are smarter then you, we are better then you and we are far more deserving of grand things then you. However, every so often we get a bad link in the chain. Those creatures, which are far more rare then a 3 legged unicorn that shits out golden eggs with the winning lottery ticket numbers stamped into them, will be featured here, in all their glory for one soul purpose...
...Just so you assfuck men have one damn thing to go, "A-HUH! I TOLD YOU I WAS RIGHT!" about. You will only be allowed 1 hour to gloat and wave this fact in front of the nearest woman's face*. Any more then that and I will use you as a speed bump.
Now, please place your trays in their upright positions, buckle your seatbelts and hold on. You're about to kiss my ass goodbye...just kidding! I'm like Genital Warts, I always come back just when you got used to me being gone.
*WMHW is no responsible or to be held legally liable for any ass kicking, teeth shattering, cattle prod probing, purple nurples or any other forms of bodily harm that may occur due to your actions.