“Why?” you ask…
-He can fly
-He saves the world on a regular basis
-He's not dead
-He's faster than a speeding bullet
-He can turn back time
-Screw walking on water, Superman can leap tall buildings in a single bound
-He has defeated numerous villains
-He has a job
-He doesn't have a homosexual haircut or the fag sandals and robe
-He can fuck
-He has a better body
-He has a cool hair
Inspired by Passionate about Plus Size which I stumbled upon it during my “Next Blog” perusing…
There are a bunch of people out there who want to save endangered species. I'm certainly not one of those hippie fuckers, that’s for sure. I like animals, sure, but I'm lazy. Its way too much work to save an animal. First you gotta choose which one you want to save. "Well, B/S, how about pandas?" And B/S's like, "Fuck no! Remember the panda that stole my peanuts when we were at the zoo? Fuck him. Fuck pandas."
Fuck pandas. Fuck the whales, too. And walruses (or is it walrii?). None of these fat fucks ever did a single thing positive to society. When was the last time we thanked the majestic walrus for saving a kid who got trapped on an iceberg? They're too lazy.
That's another thing, the majority of the animals on the endangered species list are the fattest things I've ever seen this side of Marlon Brando's left ass cheek (may God rest his soul.). It's not the fact that we, as humans, do whatever we can to kill them, it's the fact that they're too fat and lazy to defend themselves. You think that if a Rhino didn't weigh the same as an SUV, that they'd be endangered? Fuck no! They'd be all about kickin’ some human ass! I know I would!
Another point: Some of these animals are endangered for a reason. Obviously these hippie fuckers have never heard of Charles Darwin, or the expression "survival of the fittest." If the animal you're trying to save can't survive changes in its environment, then it's not meant to live! And don't give me any of that, "Human's are causing unadaptable environments" bullshit. If I can adapt to Muslim extremists bombing babies and flying planes into buildings, (as hard as it might be), a whale can get used to a little gasoline in the water. Besides, it's a big fucking ocean!
(^^^Possible overdose?^^^) I've noticed throughout the years that blacks are extremely afraid of dogs and small harmless cats. Me, being a subject matter expert, feel the need to try to explain this (I’m not really a subject matter expert, but it sounds good, doesn’t it?).
Was it because whites sic'd dogs on slaves when they didn’t act right or do what they were told? Or is it for the simple reason they see dogs as competition for free food and housing?
I say nay, it goes deeper than this. Let us go back. Back before "blacks" were known as "blacks" but were known simply as, "That dirty thing over there drinking cow blood and wallowing in zebra urine”.
Way back when in
Africans (or, “blacks” as is more common these days) never had many actual pets in
I'm very happy with this outcome. I urge any single white female to own a large breed dog. Preferably an English Mastiff (all bark & no bite) or a Pit Bull (all bite & no bark) or else you will be viciously raped by a darky.
So, I ask you;
DO YOU HAVE A DARKY DETECTOR?
GET YOURS TODAY!!!
(How could you resist this fat little fucker?)I was going to call this 'Dog Fucking: The Way Forward' but that would have been a little too obvious. Now, on to the business at hand:
Most of you will be familiar with the practice of providing (often at the taxpayers expense) sick people, handicapped people, dying people, blind people etc, etc, with a dog to cheer them up. The theory, and it is quite correct, is that dogs are able to provide true and faithful love. And this of course is good for the recipient.
Brrraaaaaaaaaap
Is it you, O’ wise one?
What do you have to say?
Brrraaaa Bra Brraaaaaaaaaap
Yes, yes… I understand
Though your breath is stinky, your words are wise
Brap Braaaaaaaaaaaaa
Truer words have never been spoken
You are an inspiration to us all, O’ smelly brown one
Is there anything else?
Here, let me pull my finger
BRAAAAAAAA BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP
Oh! Are you angry my lord?
Have I displeased you?
I ate chili and cabbage as you instructed
Please do not smite me
Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap
Those are words to live by
You give my life meaning
Without you I would be lost
Braaap
“Poke" "Poke, poke"
Carl was sitting in his armchair when his 5 year old son Reagan had come up beside him. Reagan had begun to poke Carl ever so lightly.
"Poke, poke"
"Now Reagan, what did I tell you about that? Please stop poking
"Poke, poke, poke."
Reagan kept on poking much to his fathers chagrin.
"Stop it, Reagan."
"Poke, poke, poke."
Reagan had a mischievous little grin on his face as he continued to irritate his dad. Taylor, Carl’s other son, had come up on the other side and started as well.
"Poke, poke.........poke, poke, poke."
"C'mon boys, daddy's serious here. Stop it right now."
"Poke, poke.....Poke, poke.....Poke, poke, poke."
Reagan and Taylor had continued to poke their father. His patience was wearing thin. At this point, Carl’s' daughter Tessa had come up behind his chair and started poking him in the shoulder and the back of the head.
"Poke, poke, poke....poke, poke, poke, poke......poke, poke, POKE!"
"OWW! That hurt Tessa! Stop that this instant, all of you".
They didn't stop. Reagan was now poking Carl in the balls.
"POKE, POKE, POKE.......POKE, POKE, POKE, POKE......POKE, POKE, POKE."
"STOP IT! DADDY IS GETTING REALLY ANGRY HERE!"
Carl was trying to fend off their pokes but was having a really hard time. He couldn't seem to block any of the pokes. He was wondering how, all of a sudden, his children had become superhuman pokers with lightning fast hands.
"STOP, STOP, STOP. I SWEAR TO CHRIST I"M GOING TO SMACK YOU KIDS IF YOU DON"T STOP!"
~THE END~
Personally I think that the fattening of the American and Western populace is directly attributable to the megalopoly of the American fast food industry. They say that they only provide fatty food because that is what is demanded by their customers.
Well, I think it is because of the crap they put in their food. Tasteless crap that the high dosages of fat help give flavor to.
Now, if it was me, I would be taking the fat OUT and adding jalapeños. LOTS of jalapeños.
That would help to clean out the consumer’s digestive system.
It would be a deterrent to over consumption because when their mouth is on fire, they will be less likely to reach for a second sandwich. Also they will consume less carbonated beverages because water helps to cool much better than Coke, etc.
Just think of the benefits this jalapeño enhanced diet would provide. Single-handedly the humble jalapeño could decrease hospital waiting lists, extend peoples lives, reduce the average fat-ass to waif-like proportions and give food a more flavorful edge all at the same time!
The blisters haven’t necessarily been getting worse because I think I'm starting to work up some calluses. I've learned to sort of ‘ride the pain’ but the condition of my hands is rather unsightly and horribly embarrassing. Try to explain this (see picture above) to everyone that asks!
So how much masturbation is too much? Once… twice… thrice an hour?
I'm afraid that if I take longer than three hours between sessions my humongous nuts will overfill and rupture.
Besides, it's like my only hobby – other than reading the bible and honing my ninja skills.
Are you where you want, what you want, who you want to be?
Regress back ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty years. Ask your younger self: "What do I want to be?" Now, return to the present and take a good look at where you are. How does it compare?
Have you "sold out" or “settled”? Are you doing something related to what you want to be doing? Who are you, really?
If you were being true to yourself, what would you be? Not every child grows up wanting to be a middle manager.
Following a dream can be daunting. Otherwise, people wouldn't insert the word, "pipe" before the word "dream" with such recklessness. Some members of society wouldn’t keep others down. Rather, they would allow them to breathe free; doing the writing, painting, singing, dancing, or other such creative work they really want to do.
Society is uncomfortable and sometimes jealous of those who are innovators. We sometimes frown on those who follow their dreams, unless that particular dream involves making money for someone else.
Is that what you're doing? Why?
What would you rather be doing?
Why do so few of us chase our greatest desires?
Is it the fear of risk, or worse still, the fear of failure? Are we that content to let potential pass us by?
Take a walk. Clear your head. THINK.
Why do we lose our imagination when we pass into adulthood?
Why don't more of us make it count?
