You know how it's 99% disgusting to throw-up? It stinks, burns, splashes everywhere, makes your eyes water, and cramps up your stomach muscles. BUT, there is the 1%. That far corner of your mind that you don't want to admit is there in the middle of your five alarm fire of hot mess. It is the part that is enjoying the vomiting process. Hopefully, my blog is that 1% .

Thursday, December 3, 2009

This Really Happened 1

Dear Prudence, 
I have a problem that I have not seen before in your column. This morning I awoke from a blackout- naked, confused and aroused. Instinctively, not wanting to spoil my morning wood, my first priority was the shortest distance to ejaculation. After a few moments of a basic fact finding mission, I determined that I was in some sort of retail establishment, probably a Wal-Mart-there were smiley faces hanging everywhere and Extreme’s More than Words soundtracking my life. I zigged, then zagged to Men’s Clothing where I pulled some made-in-China Superman-Underoos straight off the rack and covered my Christian Parts *, when I noticed it. Apparently I granted permission to a former prison tattoo artist to leave his mark on my temporarily distended six-pack with a semi-accurate portrayal of Snoopy going at it doggie style (of course, is there any other way?) with an unwilling bald-eagle. As I marveled at the obvious majestic beauty, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of psychotropic bender could have granted such an obviously un-American spectacle. Oh but it is not for me to ponder, who am I to question the intentions of a free partisan (the tattoo artist)? I have, after-all, prided myself on being a conduit to others’ expressive freedoms. Now to the question: Do I have to tell my wife about this latest escapade? 
Living in the Moment 

Dear LitM, 
Are you kidding me? If after such a thoroughly corrupt existence, your wife doesn’t already know what a complete waste of chemicals she wed, now is not the time to shed light on your little hobbies. At the risk of positively reinforcing such dangerous behavior, she must surely know that when you lay down with dogs, you rise with fleas. The dog being you and the fleas being incurable sexually transmitted disease. One thing does escape me though. Did you ever get to beat-off? 
PS she will probably have some idea when she sees the tat…what an asshole 

*thanks Tyler Harp 

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