Merry Fucking Christmas

I'm all witted out, so here are the damn pictures I picked as Christmas presents to ya'll. Let the moaning and drooling commence...I present to you a Depp/Jackman sandwich. Call me Mayo!

A bit? Noooo! Not YOU!

i'm a bit of a freak or so i am told... suppose that came from a life lived almost exclusively in pursuit of everything and anything magickal... so my psi function runs a little hot... i can remote view with a pretty high degree of accuracy, leave my body and travel to the astral at will, listen to the thoughts of others and sometimes directly manipulate physical reality at the quantum level (although not in a repeatable under protocol way quite yet...) Dani

I found the biggest collection of What The Fuck ads ever! You know the kind where you tilt your head and wonder if they moved computers into the padded rooms within local nut wards.

Let's take Dani's ad for example. What she is telling you is that if you date her, don't even think about cheating. She can leave her body, find you and force you to walk out into the middle of the street and get hit by a run-away Mammogram van. The old adage about wearing clean underwear will be running through your head as you stare down at your flaccid and completely exposed trouser inch worm. Think of the look on your Grandma Betty's face as she reads the paper and sees a big black box over your naked naughty bits and reads the headline "Mammogram Machine Flattens More Then Boobs."

Or she is just totally fucked in the head and you can atleast get a night of sheet-shredding sex from her. Just be sure to ignore the growling and don't make eye contact. Also, if you see her grab jumper cables and a metal pasta strainer, run.

Death By Barbie

I high-five when I'm happy. I high-five when I'm sad. It's just how I process my feelings. When I was little, my cat attacked me, and my dad had to fight her off with one of my Barbie dolls. It was a very scary situation, and my Barbie wasn't prepared to do battle with my cat (Miss Kitty) so late in the afternoon. I am left-handed. I really like being left-handed. I like lefthandedness in general. Chrissy

I'm not all too sure what meds Chrissy missed the morning she wrote this ad, but I hope next time she doubles up on them. There is Meg Ryan quirky and then there is Dan Quayle stupid. You can try to come across as funny and easy going with a bit of out-there personality or you can try to make people wonder if you have tea parties with your invisable friends while trying to stuff rabid squirrels into your girdle. The first example will get you laid, probably more then once and more then likely from life forms more evolved then pond scum. The later, well, have fun with those squirrels while you have them because the odds are they will be the only party in your pants.

Colour Me Co-Dependent

I am looking for the man i will be hapy with all my life and that will show me the real colour of love that will always make me happy and that i will be able to call the love of my life and i will be happy with all my life and that will be able to give me his shoulder when i need it and i will also be able to give mine when he is in need of it as well...And i will love ll my life and i will be happy to call the love of my life....beth

Did anyone else have to read this a few times before it sunk in? And when you read it, was the voice in your head completely monotone?

A post like this will get the men flocking in about as fast as Janet Reno promising free lap dances after they let Steve Buscemi fart in their face. There isn't a man that I have met in my lifetime that has said they were specifically looking for clingy, needy and obsessed. Although, they have no problem over-looking those traits if they come wrapped up in a Giselle Bundchen package, however after the novelty wears off, Ms. I Need You To Be Here For Me To Be Happy will be left eating sprackets kicked up from his back tires.

I have a strong feeling Beth is the kind of gal you see in the darkest corner of a coffee shop. Hunched over, wearing over-sized wool ponchos and chewing on a twisted section of her hair while stiring her Mocha-Frap-Soy-Half-Wit-Light-Foam concoction. She probably giggles to herself and snorts when she finds her inner thoughts especially amusing.

When interacting with those of the opposite sex face to face, she probably stumbles on her tongue and finds it hard to form a complete and understandable sentence. So, she takes to the internet! Brilliant idea! Cheers to you Beth! You suck at it here, too!

You deserve it

Before scanning to the following post, I want to give you an image to make you less likely to hunt me down and hog tie me so you can pour hot wax on me then throw me into the growing snow bank just outside of my bedroom window. As wonderful as it sounds, I don't think being turned into a Mary Statue is something the world is ready for just yet.

Enjoy!

Since the last dude went over about as well as the Governor of Chicago's recent bright idea for a retirement plan, here is a new fuckability factor!

Am I forgiven?

As a direct result of the comments this post has gotten, I surrender. Here is your damn hairy man! NOW GET OFF MY ASS! ~snicker~

As the old saying goes, be careful of what you ask for! You just might get it!

Okay, okay, here, stop crying...

Sometimes you just gotta say, "Eewww!"

Black4White - 27

I LOVE white men...but any race will do. Hit me up!

Holy fucking shitballs of hairy goat nads!! So I get this email titled, "somethin' for your blog...." from a reader we'll call ML The Evil. ML The Evil goes on to add, "Sorry you have to see this. I can’t imagine there are many men who want to either. Maybe I’m wrong. What do I know?" in the body of this email. Instead, she should of said, "Please get your yellow pages handy. Look up the nearest 24/7 therapist and call and make an appointment for 10 minutes from now. I will split the bill with you. It's the least I can do since I'm the sole source of the following pain. Thank you and, I'm sorry."

But no, she gives me something so mild, I thought maybe I was about to have the vision of a quickly aging Hollywood D-Lister posing in boy shirts and their 6 year old's T-Shirt. (Note: See Pamela Anderson going to Walgreens to pick up toothpaste)

No, no, no. Instead, ML The Evil gives me this --> (Click for a full viewing)

Now, don't get me wrong. The sheer size isn't the issue here. I, myself, resemble a Butterball Turkey, post defeathering but prior to adding losts of butter and baking at 375 degrees for 4 to 10 hours. My darling husband has made the comment that if he were to lick his hand and spank me, he would need to call 911 for Fire Rescue to detatch his hand that has froze to my pastey white bench warmer.

There are a couple things about that picture that bug me. My first reaction was that she looks like she is about to take a shit on that beautiful hardwood floor! Lady, do you know what people pay for a floor like that? Secondly, is she giving birth? Do I see fingers stretching forth trying to escape their cave of darkness? Do I hear sobbing and pleading voices screeching out, "For the love of all that is unholy, GET ME OUT OF THIS BITCH!" Lastly, is this the first living creature in the world that has a built in toilet paper dispenser? The inventor of this item was brilliant enough to place it close to the part of the body that requires it. Bravo! Bravo!

Atleast our friend isn't picky. You just have to be male. Way to take the pressure off!