A brief spike in traffic

For 3 days running I had over 100 views to the site, akin to a miracle.  I’m not that interesting, so it must’ve all been for recent Jeopardy! contestant Rachel Lindgren.

It’s my duty to warn you thirsty nerds AGAIN that smart women are not a solution to anything and being a sapiosexual is a road to nowhere.  If she’s smart while you’re enamored (subtract 25 IQ points for each boob and asscheek) you’re in QUADRUPLE the danger of being manipulated.  Not that I overly give a shit what happens to you, you’re probably better off than me.

I believe this blog is now 10 or 11 years old, which means little because I rarely posted after 2009, was it?  It has brought me neither joy nor grief, certainly no money or gavina.  I don’t read my own shit so I’ve forgotten most of it, except to remember impassioned movie reviews about Batman (pointless) or politics (far more pointless) and cussing out my wage slave job while doing nothing to improve my lot in life.

Two things happened in the last 5 years which changed the entire arc of my  inclinations, I got out of the shit job and I “discovered” whores.  Also, my father died  at 73 of natural causes, if you count lung cancer as natural.

The whores saved my life.  Once I was getting laid fairly regularly all the Mysteries of Womanhood evaporated, which was bittersweet, but poetry is either written out of your system or it burns you from the inside out like drinking bleach.  Poetry IS drinking bleach, usually for the reader. 

The women’s humanity made me less of a misogynist, and it even seemed a few of them enjoyed the ride beyond getting paid.  (I haven’t been laid in over a year due to health problems so that’s on pause.)

I’m closer to 50 than 40 now.  I’m not better than I was in 2006, but like to think I’ve learned much the last 10 or 11 years.  I wouldn’t trade my scant “life’s work” of writing for falling in love.   

Here are the final lines from a long ago poem.

I know it’s coming, death or a balloon.

The slitted eyes of a petted cat.

Marmaduke fails at pussy

Check out this Marmaduke from Sunday, 03 AUG 08:

Observe the ‘cat’, one of the worst drawings I’ve ever seen. Is anyone even trying anymore? It really steams my clams that someone got paid to draw a cat with hound dog JOWLS.

Can YOU do better?–chide the critics. Hells yes. I drew my cat head with the MS “Paint” program in about 4.5 minutes. Unlike the Marmashit feline (more like FAUX-line) mine looks like a cat, falling well within the parameters of the Artistic Zone.

When will these fools learn that any job worth doing is worth doing half-assed?

Quarter-assed won’t cut it.

Art at Last

Tremendous find at the indoor flea market. It was too important not to buy.

Look at the exquisite craftsmanship. The interplay of neck and red, the subtly erotic way the area beneath the crossed Stars and Bars “unintentionally” creates a nipple on the end of the plump teat.

Something else you may not have noticed. Observe this pose of the regular “Haulin'” mudflap girl, sitting on her lazy ass all day as if expecting bon-bons!

Again, the Southern Belle:

Note her obedient position, four-on-the-floor, ass presenting, READY FOR ACTION.

YEE-HAW! doesn’t quite cover it.

Alas, there’s one terrible flaw in this otherwise pristine collectable any Dollar Store shopper would be proud to own:

Reminds me of when the South fought under General Robert E. Chang.