I don’t understand this tip-your-mailman-at-Christmas shit.
The mailman never brings me any good news; He only brings me garbage and bills. Sometimes he brings me the latest information about local savings on fresh chicken thighs, but that’s hardly his fault.
I know, I know, I shouldn’t shoot the messenger. So I won’t! I will NOT shoot the mailman. But if you can’t SHOOT the messenger, you also shouldn’t have to TIP the messenger.
Anyhow, I have a moral objection to tip any government employee who can’t either get me out of jail or legalize something, and who has a retirement plan and full medical. Maybe I’ll give him some chicken thighs.
Ah yes! Good news! Millions of people around the earth are still asking lots of questions about all-things jackoff! Fortunately they have at their disposal this fine blog as expert resource material. I am a man of integrity, honesty and beard and it is through my beard that I read these questions which top-tier search engines feel are best fielded by me. And thus for the fourth time, I again address your most pressing recent jackoff queries.
Q: jack off-pork
R: First of all, stealing is wrong, so you shouldn’t jack anybody’s off-pork. Secondly, don’t eat off-pork. It’ll make you sick.
Q: can you jack off with external use only
R: Almost exclusively. Read more
1) Martha’s shapely ass glows softly from the opaque morning light seeping through the window of the quaint Cape Cod bungalow as I do her from behind.
2) Martha mounts me in a gorgeous oak four-post bed. The weight of her body and an ornamental wreath hung around her neck pushes me deeper into the familiar comfort of the delicate goose-down duvet. We have sex in the Read more
I was skulking in the dark on my enclosed patio when I saw a shadow walk past my patio door. I wondered how my neighbor would have felt if she knew that I was standing on the patio when she walked by, just sort of staring into the howly fog. “Arooooooooooo! Pretty creepy!” I mused. I thought about a few ways in which I could go about my life and really creep people out to the max at the same time. “It could be the new national pastime,” I suggested to whomever was listening. (Creepily, I was the only one listening.)
* Grow a beard. My beard is creepy. I scare children with my beard. Never let the fibers all be aligned in a single direction. I’m like Santa Claus when he was just an at-risk juvenile being sentenced to perpetual community service at Guantana-Norte Pole. Ta-daa! Hail Santa!
* When opening doors, open them just a crack. Look out with one eyeball for a few minutes to make sure the coast is clear. Once you’re reasonably sure the coast is clear, stick your head out and look back and forth, then back again, then forth, to ensure nobody’s there. If somebody is there, say “oh, excuse me!” and close and lock the door. Then open it back up a crack immediately and stare out with one eye. That’s entry-level creepy.
* While shopping at the supermarket, pick a thin, waifish white woman and follow her through the store. You’re not really doing anything wrong — you’re just picking up and investigating legitimate groceries that you might find in each of those aisles. But make sure that you walk down every aisle she does, and make sure you pick something off of the rack. If she looks at you, smile awkwardly until she looks away. That’s creepy.
* Whatever it is that you’re doing, do it extra slowly. Channel Jeff Goldblum in your endeavors. Do it with bugeyes and with slow, deliberate, oozy motions.
* If you’re pouring yourself a drink at a party, pick up the container, look at it, pick up your glass, look at it, pour the drink very slowly, look at it, measure it, look at it, comment on it, look at it, pour some more, look at it and measure it. Wipe the bottle with your finger, look at it, and then suck tenderly on your finger. And look at it.
* If you get caught looking at someone, look at them much harder, with a big sweetieboy smile on your face. Make the girl or boy think for sure that you were looking at them and only them. Point if you have to. That’s deliciously creepy.
* Before you say anything to anybody, smile at them for four seconds. One-two-three-four-now-talk-but-do-it-slowly-and-deliberately.
* If you have a cubicle, make sure to play a lot of 1970s porno-style music. Gyrate your hips whenever your victim walks by. Wink and say “Yes, it is.” That should confuse them.
* Before you leave the elevator, position yourself right against the crack of the door so those rude people who think they can get on before anybody else can leave, are met with a face-full of your face. Don’t be afraid to lick them, because they are your bitches.
* When meeting someone for the first time, it is okay to pretend to be a rabid dog-man and to nip at their heels.
* Listen to The Brady Kids’ top four or five hits all the time. Jan will take you to her sugar shoppe and you will say yes. That’s creepy.
* Eat marijuana candy for breakfast so that by lunch you are a jumbled mess of smiley, drooly, effusive goodness.
* Wear a cape, but also wear short pants. Spandex bicycle shorts are preferable. Ooze…
* When someone is talking to you, lick your lips a lot.
* Wink your eye at people a lot. Open your mouth slightly when you do.
* In public, suck on your index finger. Up to the third knuckle. Make eye contact with someone close by.
* When meeting a fair maiden, don’t kiss her hand, suck on her fingers for thirty seconds. Show her that you have no gag reflex.
* If you are a man, wear a sports bra. Whether you need one or not, that’s pretty creepy.
* Create your own sign language and use it during board meetings.
* Any time someone finishes a sentence you should pretend to shoot a pistol at them, and make a Kch! sound from the side of your mouth.
* Wear a necklace reminiscent of a voodoo pouch. The more feathers that stick out of it, the better.
There are definitely other things you will need to do to be extra-creepy and I will keep you apprised as my list grows.
By RUSS OF AMERICA
Russ of America News Network Staff Writer
NORTH POLE (ROANN) — At dawn today, international agents raided the sprawling North Pole compound of Santa Claus, culminating a lengthy investigation into a massive counterfeiting operation run from that region for decades. Authorities estimate that billions of pieces of electronic equipment, clothing, jewelry, housewares and toys are manufactured by the Claus cartel annually without permission, distribution rights, royalty remittances or licensing agreements. An investigating agent who did not want to be identified said, “The quality of [these] counterfeits is astounding. The average person would never know that the jeans she is wearing, or the HD television she is watching is a complete fake, but in fact, it is.”
Upon breach of the compound’s mammoth four-inch thick reinforced gingerbread security doors, agents discovered an army of people working at various stations. “I believe we may have a human trafficking component here. We have contacted some human rights organizations for an emergency response, but we are still trying to figure out if these people are even human and if they even qualify for assistance.”
When asked to estimate the annual financial loss, the unidentified agent Tariq Hasaan said, “Globally, probably in the [trillions of US dollars] range, so the impact of this counterfeiting crew is far-reaching and devastating to the global economy. We’re all aware of the state of the international economy, especially places like America and we see how people are struggling to pay their car notes and how they have to decide whether to pay full price for Gruyere cheese at Whole Foods or on sale at Gelson’s. A counterfeit operation of this scale is unprecedented. I mean, Japan sells a lot of televisions, right? They’d probably sell a lot more if it wasn’t for this [motherfucker] making counterfeits right under their noses. I know that he hasn’t been tried yet, so I’m not saying he’s guilty of counterfeiting, but he’s definitely guilty of something. You’re not going to print my name, are you?”
Officials expect to hold a press conference some time in the next few hours.
Yes, ha ha ha… a happy annual event put on by the United States military… ha ha ha… Fun, frolic and merriment! ha ha ha…
Each year the United States Federal Government, fueled by the holiday spirit, instructs NORAD, The North American Aerospace Defense Command, to uses its highly sophisticated electronic war technology to Read more
Around the second week of December I like to play this game where I ask friends and acquaintances questions that could be interpreted as me fishing for Christmas gift ideas. I’m not actually fishing for ideas though, I’m just asking questions that will make them think I’m fishing for ideas. For example:
“Hey, you used to play the saxophone, right?”
“Do you still remember how to play?”
“Yeah, I’m a little rusty but I could still play some songs.”
“Do you own a saxophone?”
“Is it in good shape?”
“It could use a polishing, but it’ll get the job done. Why?”
“Just curious. What size shoe do you wear?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Do you like high-tops or low-tops?”
“Do you have the first season of Barney Miller on DVD?”
“No, why do you ask?”
They won’t press the issue because in the back of their heads they’re thinking of Christmas and they don’t want to spoil their Christmas surprise. Then they go home and wonder what kind of sneakers or saxophone I’m going to buy them and then they look forward to the Barney Miller DVDs and then when Christmas comes around and I didn’t get them a goddamn thing they wonder why the fuck I was asking all of those questions if I wasn’t going to buy them anything, but it serves them right for being so materialistic.
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I came up with this idea a few years ago and I think that I’ve more or less fleshed it out.
If you’re like me, you work in an office. Or some place. It doesn’t have to be an office, but offices are pretty common, because corporate USA of America isn’t too bright or creative. So let’s call it an office, even though this plan will work in a mechanic’s shop or in a salon, but probably not in the bean fields of the migrant worker due to poor work conditions and lack of break time.
In December, corporate USA of America usually hosts some sort of Secret Santa event, so that people who would otherwise never receive any attention, or people who are Jewish, can get Christmas presents, even if they don’t want any.
I think we can all agree that forcing your religion on someone else, especially a Jewish person, who’s suffered the most of all of the religions, is pretty horrible and may be a violation of one’s civil rights. But who among us couldn’t use a little boost in the romance department? I mean, you’re slugging along in the world of love — they’re throwing pitches, you’re swinging and missing. You’re pitching and they’re not hitting. And we all know that the bigger the mess, the more you endure awkward baseball metaphors such as this one.
So my pitch for the second week of February is: The Secret Valentine.
The plan is such:
1) Everybody in your office throws their name into a hat (or some other worthy vessel.)
2) You draw a name from the hat.
3) Whomever you draw, you must romance.
4) I’m not talking about bargain-basement rush-through sex. I’m talking full-on, convincing romance. Candles, rose petals, the Hollywood Bowl, senxual oils, back rubs, poetry, soul kisses, all of that bullshit.
5) If you draw your own name, you have to put the slip of paper back.
Sure there are drawbacks, but that’s all part of the plan. Sometimes you score big and get to have a filthy hardcore throw-away sex-fest with the hottie that you like, and sometimes you suffer and give more than you receive — just like a regular Secret Santa! Often the scenario is consistent with your sexual beliefs, but sometimes you have to endure an opportunity from a contrary sexuality mindset, which helps you to learn and to grow!
Overall, you’re making a positive romantic contribution, you’re enriching someone’s life experience, bonding with co-workers, and maybe even getting your bits touched.