Category: Tasteless

Mmm…. crunchy

I got some French bread the other day (not difficult seeing as I’m in France) and left it too long so it went stale. Which is not how it should be. A French loaf should be crusty but not hard. Exactly unlike a penis which should be hard and not crunchy.

Strange, that.

Sick of boobs?

I’ve spent some time in France, now, and they do indeed show boobs in a lot of TV adverts, most often shower products. Thing is, you then go to Italy and they use them to advertise anything from eggs to car wax.

Of course, I’m male so nothing can put me off boobs. Or can it? One joy of the south of France is that woman can and do sunbathe topless and you get to see some cracking norks out there. As I was plodding along near Menton on the first day of The Walk (donate money now or the aliens will kill you) I saw one particular woman stood at the beachside, naked but for a teeny thong.

She was ninety if she were a day.

Ninety and sun-baked. Wrinkled like a Plasticene prune someone had run the prongs of a fork over. And her boobs… not so much puppies as oven-dried, shaved armadillos.

I shuddered, I looked away. I looked back, just to be sure of what I saw.

This was it. Off tits for life. No more boobage. Gone. Wasted. Another fetish to hunt for.

Then I saw this really fit number with a corking pair lying down a few yards away.

*phew* Boob lust maintained.

Mmmm… Lois

Anyone who watches quality television will know that Betty and Wilma have been out-“foxed” by Lois Griffin from Family Guy. This is one hot animated chick who really makes Jessica Rabbit look poorly drawn. You just know she’s filthy (mainly as she openly acts it on the show).

As a result, Mel and Matt bought me a 6-inch tall Lois figure from a comic shop when I was in Perth and left it tucked up in my bed for me when I got in. Then followed “jokes” about us joining the mile-high club on my flight to Darwin.

Let me just point out that a woman making jokes about a guy having sexual fun with a 6″ plastic toy is a little like the pot calling the kettle black. For your information, Lois is still virginally intact, her seal unbroken (she’s still in the packet). Mind, bum games with a model based on a Jewish woman with a stereotypically large nose makes me wince at the thought. Could be fun with the prostate though.

Shitty response

I got this message through the contacts link a while ago and have only just gotten around to doing something with it. It’s a response to Floaters from way back in January.

If for no other reason than the effort that has gone into it, I felt it deserved being posted. Also, I’m a lazy **** and haven’t come up with much new to post by myself recently…

To Mosher –
Splendid descriptive monologue of encounter with King Of All Poop. I have no wish to marginalize your horrific experience, however I believe I can, nay have had encounter with LORD of All Poop. I recently travelled Northwards into hithertofore unbeknownst (to me) land of Arctic Sun (Norway). Having been challenged most vocally with local ale-house patron as to the vicinity of nearest legal bum-relievement podule, I was (mis)directed towards a crepuscular shack which had dubious vapours emanating from it.

Unperturbed by an upwards creeping sense of foreboding, and a requirement not unlike your own (31st Jan), I entered aforementioned shanty-shed. O my golly-gosh, and (so forth) – a hole in the ground thinkest thou? nay my mate; an unimaginably LONG turd, the likes of which even the Creator of All Time And Space would observe with reverence HUNG resplendant before me on an iron spigot!. O but the True Horror was as yet haply to be revealed… there, upon the dingy floor was an EVEN longer brethren of Turd of all Turds… by all that is to be revered I swear, THIS log (were it of human origin?) was of BIBLICAL dimension.

A 16 inch snapper, i jest you not. Hey ho thinks I, Digital Camera Proof… and then the World be astonished as I were. Not to be. O no, just as my brain be thinking this artifact MUST be of Alien origin (or at the very least, Mutated Mountain Person Muck), AND whilst my frozen kex are riding into worlds of (to me) agonizing unbeknownst sub-zero terror, previous mentioned aboriginal ‘bar-keep’ have come striding into previosly stated hovel. In bemusement I watch as this Trogloditic character picks up Still steaming Megaplop off of the floor and hangs it up next to its cousin…?

Arugh! scream what is left of my sanity (belief temporarily suspended – no pun intended), and, iced-up to tea-towel holder kex or not I SWIFTLY engage in most rapid exit. I have no unliking for the Scandinavians, truth be I get on quite well with most, this MUST be an horrific nightmare out of world of Lovecraft… It IS not.

So whilst back gate screaming at me to let brown bear out NOW, I depart most swiftly as I am able to… leave behind (pun un-implied) most ALL backpack kit and negotiate down to ‘civilization’ whilst icy choco-poop threateans imminent arrival… Phew! whilst enroute to town proper, enter treeline and Blessed Be! Kex come down as fast as squirrel nutkin and Ordinary poop reveals himself.

All I have left to say is ‘Deliverance’? – bolox, I have SEEN the anatomy of TRUE grovelling horror and its existence upon this blue marble planet!
Regards,
Toejamonbread