*I* don’t see what the problem is, but “cunt” is a word nobody in America wants you to use. But I LOVE the word! I think it’s a great serrated, vicious word and it has a very important place in my linguistic arsenal. I tend to use it whenever I need an eye-opening vulgarity. It’s the kind of word that smacks you right across the back of your head. But only if you live in America. People in England apparently use it with virtually no repercussion, “Oh go take a bloody barth, you soppy little cunt!” But in America “cunt” is equivalent to the N-word for women. If you call a woman a cunt, you’re … Click Here to Read On! …
Yesterday I wrote a piece called “I’m A Douche At Starbucks“. I penned it to mock two things: 1) My first time sitting at Starbucks in front of a laptop acting like a stereotypical Starbucks laptop douche, and 2) people who, on a regular basis, do what I did yesterday, and who go above and beyond normal douchery by incorporating Bluetooths (Blueteeth?) and other increasingly pretentious icons of self-importance. I’m certainly on the path to number two.
And speaking of number two…. (best segue ever…) while I was typing that blog post, something else was … Click Here to Read On! …
I have a weakness: if I’m playing Scrabble and I can spell a naughty word, like sex, dick, cunt or fucker, I’m going to, even if there is another word that will give me quintuple the value of points. Winning isn’t everything to me.
I’ve been reading news articles lately about a single Californian woman, Nadya Suleman, who had octuplets because allegedly she was obsessed with the idea of having children. She’d contracted with doctors to provide her with in vitro fertility treatment and had six embryos implanted in her womb. It deserves to be mentioned that she already had 6 children. There has been a lot of talk about the ethical nature of this arrangement and whether or not doctors violated common sense or medical guidelines in their treatment of her, but I’m not going to get involved in all of that because I’m not so good with debate and I don’t figure that her silly behavior really concerns me.
What I am concerned with is a very valuable story that I need to impart upon you. Like Nadya Suleman, I’ve made some interesting decisions in my life recently. I began a high-protein, low carb, low fiber diet. I’ve been snacking on a ridiculous amount of cheese and meat, drinking a lot of tea, coffee, soda and alcohol, and I’ve not been adhering to my life motto, to “keep it moist”. I’ve always thought that was a pretty good life motto as far as life mottoes go.
I’m not going to give you all of the details of my tale, because it’s quite lengthy for a blog and is more suitable only for a discriminating, understanding, non-judgmental and very generous paying audience — possibly someone who might watch a movie of the week — but I will tell you that I had a recent medical emergency deserving of national attention. I had the misfortune to deliver a breached birth of the waste variety. I awoke one morning prepared for my morning constitutional but was unable to produce because of severe dehydration. I administered an emergency Fleet enema to no success and my body began to cramp painfully in anticipation of relief, forcing me into excruciating contortions upon the floor of my water closet. I wailed in great pain that someone might come to my rescue.
If not for the grace of God, the experimental acupressure treatments administered by my quick-thinking girlfriend, (who had access to a wiki article on constipation,) and the forcing of water into my colon, I easily could have died right there on the recently Swiffered vinyl, yet another victim of irresponsible dietary choices and the violent deuce-oriented repercussions of my decisions.
The full story takes the viewer back to my youth when I first experienced painful rectal blockage, and it continues into my current adult life where I have occasionally endured the persecution of dense brick-house dumps. My tale is a rich one indeed and I’m sure that you will agree that I need to get my story out to any and everybody who could possibly identify with me. To this extent, I am willing to sell the rights to my deuce exclusive for a paltry $2,000,000.00 USD.
Please feel free to contact me through this blog so that we can arrange for the transfer of the funds. After the funds clear I will impart upon you the most wicked tale of toilet woe, a story so gruesome your toes will curl and you will pop a hemorrhoid purely out of sympathy for me. I accept PayPal.
