And I bet you thought nothing exciting happened in Canada.
Canadian divers search for missing cheese AFP - Fri Jul 29, 4:56 PM ET
MONTREAL (AFP) - A team of divers are searching at the bottom of the "Baie des Ha! Ha!" in northeastern Canada for 800 kilograms (1,700 pounds) of cheddar sunk by an entrepreneur hoping to revolutionize cheese making.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
OH BOY! IT'S A JAMBOREE!
The Boy Scout motto is Always Be Prepared....
So just to catch you up in case you haven't yet read your latest copy of The Scouting News, FIVE Scout leaders and ONE Boyscout have been killed in the last few days and hundreds were hospitalized with sun-stroke. I think that their god may be mad at them.
(Link to full articles) SCOUT DEATHS & MORE DEAD SCOUTS
I have proposed some New Boyscout Mottos:
Option 1
Always be prepared... to die.
Option 2
If you can't take the heat stay out of the Scouts!
Option 3
For the love of God, don't put a tent under a powerline!
Options 4
Join The Boy Scouts: You're still much more likely to be molested than killed.
Somebody fucked up big time and people died at a Jamboree. A Jam-bo-ree related death. That's not just tragic, it's also embarrassing. I think that I would rather be killed in a freak butter-churning accident or in the act of giving head to an albino tranny hooker*. My favorite part of the article is that there is somebody with the title of "Jamboree Spokesperson."
Who could have imagined that it would be so warm in Virginia during late July? Idiots.
* picture not available at this time due to legal reasons
Who doesn't love a child in uniform?
At first I thought the arrows indicated which were good touch spots and which were bad touch spots. It's actually a tad gayer than that.
You can write to BOB and ask him a question.
“Ask Bob”
Boy Scouts of America Home
Join Scouts!
MOM from Whittier, CA, United States asks: My son has been gone for more than a week now. What is the probability that he has taken a shower? Are there scheduled times for this? How are the facilities?
Your question shows a keen understanding of a youth's priorities. The incredible array of nearly non-stop activities does tend to distract a youth, but the odds are actually pretty good that he's made it into the showers. The shower facilities are downright plush compared to many summer camps, including plenty of warm water, and most adult leaders are quite vigilant about making sure that the boys get showers on a regular basis.
© 2005 Boy Scouts of America
So just to catch you up in case you haven't yet read your latest copy of The Scouting News, FIVE Scout leaders and ONE Boyscout have been killed in the last few days and hundreds were hospitalized with sun-stroke. I think that their god may be mad at them.
(Link to full articles) SCOUT DEATHS & MORE DEAD SCOUTS
I have proposed some New Boyscout Mottos:
Option 1
Always be prepared... to die.
Option 2
If you can't take the heat stay out of the Scouts!
Option 3
For the love of God, don't put a tent under a powerline!
Options 4
Join The Boy Scouts: You're still much more likely to be molested than killed.
Somebody fucked up big time and people died at a Jamboree. A Jam-bo-ree related death. That's not just tragic, it's also embarrassing. I think that I would rather be killed in a freak butter-churning accident or in the act of giving head to an albino tranny hooker*. My favorite part of the article is that there is somebody with the title of "Jamboree Spokesperson."
Who could have imagined that it would be so warm in Virginia during late July? Idiots.
* picture not available at this time due to legal reasons
Who doesn't love a child in uniform?
At first I thought the arrows indicated which were good touch spots and which were bad touch spots. It's actually a tad gayer than that.
You can write to BOB and ask him a question.
“Ask Bob”
Boy Scouts of America Home
Join Scouts!
MOM from Whittier, CA, United States asks: My son has been gone for more than a week now. What is the probability that he has taken a shower? Are there scheduled times for this? How are the facilities?
Your question shows a keen understanding of a youth's priorities. The incredible array of nearly non-stop activities does tend to distract a youth, but the odds are actually pretty good that he's made it into the showers. The shower facilities are downright plush compared to many summer camps, including plenty of warm water, and most adult leaders are quite vigilant about making sure that the boys get showers on a regular basis.
No kranki komment necessary.
© 2005 Boy Scouts of America
Please share a new Boy Scout Motto of you own. The winner will be mailed an actual, official © Krankiboy merit badge for dark comedy.
Downstairs Love
So I know that I have a tendency to get irate at things that normal* people might let slide but I'm Krankiboy, so suck it fuck and stick it in a bucket I'm ticked.
It's my downstairs neighbor. Every day three four five six times a day they leave their apartment, right. So you'd think they would learn how to do that properly after the first 175 times. No, the door slams and if you listen really carefully you can hear it from space. I live a lot closer than outer space and that shit is loud. Grenade on the Beaches of Normandie loud
Tonight I walked by the parking space that is supposed to be empty according to our landlord but that they always park in. It used to be our parking space but the downstairs neighbor who is a grown man and a retired police officer had his mother call our landlord to complain. Good communication skills fuckstain. Maybe mom should have stopped breastfeeding you once you got to high school.
Anyway, tonight I walked by the car parked in the driveway. It's his daughter's car. She is this skanky, I- know-i-have-baby-fat-but-I'm-going-to-show-my-mid-rif-anyway-so-maybe some-fratboy-will-let-me-blow-him-in-his-jeep-bitch. She always parks her car there. I swear to you, it took all my will power not to stop and urinate all over the car in a subtle but classy act of pissy protest.
Yes I know, I have issues.
*boring
It's my downstairs neighbor. Every day three four five six times a day they leave their apartment, right. So you'd think they would learn how to do that properly after the first 175 times. No, the door slams and if you listen really carefully you can hear it from space. I live a lot closer than outer space and that shit is loud. Grenade on the Beaches of Normandie loud
Tonight I walked by the parking space that is supposed to be empty according to our landlord but that they always park in. It used to be our parking space but the downstairs neighbor who is a grown man and a retired police officer had his mother call our landlord to complain. Good communication skills fuckstain. Maybe mom should have stopped breastfeeding you once you got to high school.
Anyway, tonight I walked by the car parked in the driveway. It's his daughter's car. She is this skanky, I- know-i-have-baby-fat-but-I'm-going-to-show-my-mid-rif-anyway-so-maybe some-fratboy-will-let-me-blow-him-in-his-jeep-bitch. She always parks her car there. I swear to you, it took all my will power not to stop and urinate all over the car in a subtle but classy act of pissy protest.
Yes I know, I have issues.
*boring
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Who's Feeling Safe?
Ron sends me a lot of these stories.
I am starting to think that Ron wants me to buy something and these exciting tales are simply a way to entice me. No, not Ron, he said the offer was just for me.
Krankiboy, following is a story how the Stun Master 775 was used.
At the end of the story, you will find a bonus offer just for you.
Tina loved her job. She just hated her neighborhood. Managing one of the trendiest nightclubs in town, she got to spend her evenings rubbing elbows with rock stars, actors, and many of the city's elite. Her boss converted an old warehouse by the docks into a fantasy world for their guests. It kept costs down, but it also made for a pretty treacherous walk down to the parking lot at 4am. Tina's boss really cared about her, since she kept the place running so smoothly. She refused to let him pay for a car service so he gave her a Stun Master 775. She remembered how he asked her to hold it by the wrist strap when walking down the block, "justin case."One Saturday night, Tina couldn't wait to get home. It felt like she spent the whole night breaking up arguments and kicking drunken guys out of the club. As she marched up the block to her car, two of those guys dropped out of the shadows."Hey, you!" called the tall one. Tina knew from her years of experience not to bother responding."You think you're too good to serve us? You think you're too good to talk to us?" shouted his companion. The tall one slid right in front of Tina, blocking her path. She clutched her car's key fob in one hand while she dug her other hand into her satchel and wrapped it around the strap of her Stun Master."Where do you think you're going?" asked the tall one, while the other man just snickered. He lunged for Tina's left hand, and she pressed the panic button on her car remote. Wailing horns pierce dthe silence of the back alley. As her attacker gripped her left arm, she lunged at him with the Stun Master. Even though he held on to Tina, she couldn't feel any of the 775,000 volts flowing into his body. As he fell, his other hand knocked the Stun Master away from Tina. It snapped free of the wrist strap and landed on top of him as he curled upon the ground. The smaller attacker leaped at his buddy and grabbed the Stun Master."I'll show you!" he cried, as he pounced on Tina. He dug the Stun Master into her abdomen and tried to activate it, not realizing that the wrist strap also serves as a disable pin - once the Stun Master left Tina's hands, it was useless. Tina didn't get her job on looks alone. She kicked her attacker in the shin and clocked him on the jaw as a pair of police officers raced to the scene of the struggle. She made a mental note to thank her boss for the gift - and to ask for a raise.
Yours in safety, Ron www.a1safetyproducts.com
I don't doubt the veracity and accuracy of this chilling encounter but I do have a few comments.
It is amazing that the psychic police showed up as quickly as they did. They were probably rounding up a litter of stray kittens down by the docks.
Do you think Ron just likes writing near rape scenarios and has this "safety business" as an excuse to explore his literary sex fantasies?
How about one story where the female victim does a flying roundhouse kick to the attackers throat? And he explodes!
Personally I still think that drooling, twitching and pushing a baby stroller filled with rotting garbage and feces is still the best deterrent against attackers.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Korporate Kranki
I have been panicked at not yet having a teaching gig for the Fall, so my friend Mr. Liquid set me up with an interview at the company where he just got promoted. They download content for stuff that goes on cell phones. Ring tones, games, pornographic screen savers, the usual.
I considered doing an entire post about my interview where the dialogue was taken completely out of context so it would sound all heated n' sexy, which is wasn't.
"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting." "Okay, this is good. Let's do it in here." "Mmmm... this looks really impressive." "I'll call you soon."
But I didn't think I could sustain such a wacky* bit.
I have never had an interview with somebody who was both younger than me and had a nose ring. I guess it's casual corporate. The interview went well as I bull-shitted my way through the reasons that I wanted to work in "whatever the fuck they do exactly" and why I'd be good for the position.
Apparently the layer of crap I spread was thick and sticky enough to hold together the bricks of bullshit that I used to build my house of lies.
Shelly, the interview lady... girl... chick-- whatever called me later that very afternoon to offer me the job. And I happily declined.
I have decided to keep on plugging and looking for a teaching job for September so that my masters degree and teaching credential are good for more than wiping me arse. Sorry, I lapsed into Pirate-talk for a moment there. I'm better now. Mainly I want to have little kids around to keep me entertained and a place I can fill up with plants, animals and weird insects. I really do enjoy teaching and this job would have been a step backwards.
Still, I have to say, although I didn't take it, it feels good to be offered a job. Perhaps if it had benefits, didn't sound really boring, and they let me keep hamsters and preying mantids at my desk I might have considered it.
Yarr! Avast ye scurvy dogs! I'll pillage yer coffers crack yer head like a cackle fruit and use me cutlass to kiss you off to Davy Jones' Locker. Arrr.
Damn, I'd better talk to my doctor about increasing the dosage on my anti-pirate medicine. Maybe I just need to have a nice clap of thunder and crack Jenny's teacup to raise the sail on me mizzenmast.
This is addictive.
I'll scuttle your poop deck and broadside your spanker with me six-pounders!
Here be a Pirate Glossary fer land lubbers
(go on me hearty, you know you want to)
* More stupid than funny.
I considered doing an entire post about my interview where the dialogue was taken completely out of context so it would sound all heated n' sexy, which is wasn't.
"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting." "Okay, this is good. Let's do it in here." "Mmmm... this looks really impressive." "I'll call you soon."
But I didn't think I could sustain such a wacky* bit.
I have never had an interview with somebody who was both younger than me and had a nose ring. I guess it's casual corporate. The interview went well as I bull-shitted my way through the reasons that I wanted to work in "whatever the fuck they do exactly" and why I'd be good for the position.
Apparently the layer of crap I spread was thick and sticky enough to hold together the bricks of bullshit that I used to build my house of lies.
Shelly, the interview lady... girl... chick-- whatever called me later that very afternoon to offer me the job. And I happily declined.
I have decided to keep on plugging and looking for a teaching job for September so that my masters degree and teaching credential are good for more than wiping me arse. Sorry, I lapsed into Pirate-talk for a moment there. I'm better now. Mainly I want to have little kids around to keep me entertained and a place I can fill up with plants, animals and weird insects. I really do enjoy teaching and this job would have been a step backwards.
Still, I have to say, although I didn't take it, it feels good to be offered a job. Perhaps if it had benefits, didn't sound really boring, and they let me keep hamsters and preying mantids at my desk I might have considered it.
Yarr! Avast ye scurvy dogs! I'll pillage yer coffers crack yer head like a cackle fruit and use me cutlass to kiss you off to Davy Jones' Locker. Arrr.
Damn, I'd better talk to my doctor about increasing the dosage on my anti-pirate medicine. Maybe I just need to have a nice clap of thunder and crack Jenny's teacup to raise the sail on me mizzenmast.
This is addictive.
I'll scuttle your poop deck and broadside your spanker with me six-pounders!
Here be a Pirate Glossary fer land lubbers
(go on me hearty, you know you want to)
* More stupid than funny.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Yoga for Mind and Body
Yoga went well. I think it was partly due to my mat location. I was in the back so I didn't feel that self-conscious when I couldn't do tree position or the thing with the leg over the opposite knee while bending. I think it's called "Let's embarrass the young newbies so they get frustrated and spend the next five minutes in child pose."
Not only was I in the back of the class but I had my hottie wife Penny and the two other hottest chicks directly in front of me. So it was a difficult to both follow the yoga instructions and imagine my wife having an all-girl menage with our firm fellow classmates.
Honestly at the time I was pretty absorbed in trying to do my yoga moves right and remembering to keep breathing. I enjoyed the class and I would probably go back. I think it's important to be consistent and make sure the moves are fluid. With every class I'm going to challenge myself to get better and better at imagining cute, sweaty girls erotically groping my wife. Sometimes it feels good to push yourself.
Not only was I in the back of the class but I had my hottie wife Penny and the two other hottest chicks directly in front of me. So it was a difficult to both follow the yoga instructions and imagine my wife having an all-girl menage with our firm fellow classmates.
Honestly at the time I was pretty absorbed in trying to do my yoga moves right and remembering to keep breathing. I enjoyed the class and I would probably go back. I think it's important to be consistent and make sure the moves are fluid. With every class I'm going to challenge myself to get better and better at imagining cute, sweaty girls erotically groping my wife. Sometimes it feels good to push yourself.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Manic Moods
God my emotions are up and down. I'm a manic little freak. Depressed yesterday, jubilant tonight. None of the bigger name actors that my friend the talent rep (it sounds better than manager) has on her client list were at her birthday party last night. Her big TV client had already left by the time Penny and I got there. I wanted some A list spotting to share with my peeps. In a strange turn of events I did not get hammered and "stinking drunk" as I had proclaimed that I would. There was a major obstacle to getting properly sauced. You see the party was at the 'W' hotel and I think that the 'W' must stand for Wealthy or Wicked expensive or What-the-fuck, cuz the drinks there cost 11 dollars each. Yes, one drink. So financially I was hampered from getting wasted. I hope I didn't let anybody down. Actually the 'W' probably stands for Wannabe. Because the people there are desperate to be important. Even the outside patio was rank with the thick smell of shallow ambition. But at least the girls wear nice and low cut dresses since they want to be noticed and also due to the heat wave we are having here.
Tonight was Japanese BBQ - and it was very good. That beef was motherfucking M& M tender. Melted in my mouth not in my hands. Woot! Sorry, I'm listening to trip hop and it seems to have infiltrated into this post a bit. For the same price as three drinks at the 'W'annabe Hotel I enjoyed a big old meal of beef, shrimp, wine, a mai tai, a beer. I may have to put it on the hit list for when my Platonic Aussie Lover comes to town.
I don't know what the weekend has in store, but if it's been anything like the last 24 hours it will be fantastic and awful and wonderful and depressing and inspiring... oh I forgot to mention that my shiny little Penny is taking me with her to yoga class tomorrow. That should be interesting. Krankiboy in yoga class. I wonder which leotard I should wear, the lavender or the baby blue.
Is it narcissistic to refer to myself in the third person? I genuinely want to know. Normally it's a right reserved for Rock Stars, Pro Athletes and Mobsters. I am none of those. I wish I could be all three at the same time. A thrilling last minute shot to win the game in overtime, a frenzied crowd of cheering fans calling me out for a third encore and somebody on call to kill people who cross me. Now that I'd sell my soul for. My sugar high from the peach pie I had for dessert is fading. I think I'm gonna go with the baby blue. Lavender is kinda gay. I wouldn't want that to distract from me dazzling the ladies with my yoga skill. You know what they say, the more flexible the more sexable. Ech. Nobody outside of a movie set in a 1980's fraternity would ever say that. I have no idea why I just wrote that. I apologize to you and your family, friends and anybody you might meet today.
Tonight was Japanese BBQ - and it was very good. That beef was motherfucking M& M tender. Melted in my mouth not in my hands. Woot! Sorry, I'm listening to trip hop and it seems to have infiltrated into this post a bit. For the same price as three drinks at the 'W'annabe Hotel I enjoyed a big old meal of beef, shrimp, wine, a mai tai, a beer. I may have to put it on the hit list for when my Platonic Aussie Lover comes to town.
I don't know what the weekend has in store, but if it's been anything like the last 24 hours it will be fantastic and awful and wonderful and depressing and inspiring... oh I forgot to mention that my shiny little Penny is taking me with her to yoga class tomorrow. That should be interesting. Krankiboy in yoga class. I wonder which leotard I should wear, the lavender or the baby blue.
Is it narcissistic to refer to myself in the third person? I genuinely want to know. Normally it's a right reserved for Rock Stars, Pro Athletes and Mobsters. I am none of those. I wish I could be all three at the same time. A thrilling last minute shot to win the game in overtime, a frenzied crowd of cheering fans calling me out for a third encore and somebody on call to kill people who cross me. Now that I'd sell my soul for. My sugar high from the peach pie I had for dessert is fading. I think I'm gonna go with the baby blue. Lavender is kinda gay. I wouldn't want that to distract from me dazzling the ladies with my yoga skill. You know what they say, the more flexible the more sexable. Ech. Nobody outside of a movie set in a 1980's fraternity would ever say that. I have no idea why I just wrote that. I apologize to you and your family, friends and anybody you might meet today.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
In case you missed the event... which you did.
Here is the transcript of the event that you missed out on. It is the first event I have ever put together where only 1 person attended. It would have been fine if it had been one person, then I could have had a more indepth chat about what's been going on with that person, their love life etc... However as I just saw my wife and spoke with her on the phone this morning I feel I'm pretty up to speed on what's new in her life and hopefully who she's been sleeping with.
I am going to get shit-faced starting now. Below is the transcript of the "magic" event.
I am doing something wrong when I have 180 some odd people reading my blog each day and zero people are able to attend. You'd figure there would be one person in the chat room just by by accident.
I don't need your pity people. I have plenty of self pity to go around. It will all be much clearer when I wake up with a hang over. Maybe I'll start a fight with Kevin Dillon at the party tonight.
Oh and if you could not stop by to say "hey" because you had to attend a murder trial sentencing or you got a paper cut, I totally understand.
It's not that I'm disappointed as much as I am... very disappointed. I still love the rest of you. Just 45% less than before.
Krankiboy
Transcript Below:
> This is fucking exciting. Finally I have the entire chat room to myself and don't have to share the spotlight with anybody.> I think I'll read a book while I wait for some form of sentient being with typing ability to show up> Well, look I made my font bigger> Now I've bolded the font> I think I'll go back to non- bold
[Thu Jul 21 18:09:16 PDT 2005] The Fabulous Penny> I would go with italics but that is too flashy
Hi that's hot> oh christ> who is this?> prove it's you
What do you need sugar?>
that doesn't sound like you penny> you don't call me sugar> you call me fucky bear
no I don't.
But fine how are you darling?> What is up with your car?
I don't know. I'm scared to go out and see.>
Pretty crazy chat huh?
Yeah, wild.>
I think I'm going to go take some sleeping pills
You should have invited some strippers to liven things up.
I am actually excited just to have you here> is that sad?
I can only stay a few minutes. Just wanted to hop on and say hi.>
I know> when are you coming home fucky bear?
As soon as I can my little hot blond one
Hot blonde one?
p. hilton!!>
that's me> have you seen my sex video yet?> it's been out for ages> that's hot
no I missed it. but I would like to see Colin Farrell's>
I heard something about that. When did he make it?
I hope that damn judge lets lifts that restraining order --
Nothing can restrain Colin Farrell's cock . that' hot
oh yeah.
Cameron Diaz has some bondagish soft core thing floating round> from when she was 19
yeah, yeah. heard all about that.
yeah yeah, well leave me to my blank screen> I think I over ordered too much food for this party> perhaps I can now give up on any notions that I have a following
Yeah, you may have. I don't think you have to worry about that.>
3 mill sounds like a fair amount. reasonable.
Just look at the number of hits you have on your site>
Like it would hurt her career...> no pep talk ty
Ok>
go get in your car and drive home and we can leave for the party early as I don't intend to hang round here> waiting for nobody
k, i will leave soon. love you
I loveyou to. sigh> well that was one visitor. So that technically makes it a chat. I am going to give this failed experiment ten more minutes and then I am going to pout for like 3 hours and then get stinking drunk.
I am anxiously waiting to see who shows up for the "on-line chat." Christ, that is never going to sound like a cool activity. Although I remember when people started computer dating and it made them sound like some kind of nocturnal albino leper freak. That has changed so perhaps I will one day in my life-time be able to say I have a group chat later and not feel like giving myself an enormous wedgie and flushing my head in the toilet after stealing my own lunch money.
What other names could we call an internet chat session that would sound less gai?
Now I write gai with an "i" to distinguish it from the word gay, which refers to happy and is as you may know slang for (whispers) homosexuals.
Dude that is fucking gai! Or perhaps it should be gae? Hmmm... I'm just a hack writer so I wouldn't really know. Let's go with "gae."
Here are some other terms that can be substituted for "chat session" that actually sound worse.
Cyber schmooze - oh shit it 's chat time!
I am going to guess that a total of four people, aside from myself actually show up. One of whom is simply a pop by who quickly excuses herself when things get all NC-17.
What other names could we call an internet chat session that would sound less gai?
Now I write gai with an "i" to distinguish it from the word gay, which refers to happy and is as you may know slang for (whispers) homosexuals.
Dude that is fucking gai! Or perhaps it should be gae? Hmmm... I'm just a hack writer so I wouldn't really know. Let's go with "gae."
Here are some other terms that can be substituted for "chat session" that actually sound worse.
Cyber schmooze - oh shit it 's chat time!
I am going to guess that a total of four people, aside from myself actually show up. One of whom is simply a pop by who quickly excuses herself when things get all NC-17.
Naked Kranki Live!
Yeah, it's happening TODAY!
The world-renouned Chez Kranki invites you to an online mixer.
I want to catch up with my international friends and fanatics and I hope that some of you can make it to my chat room on...
TODAY - Thursday, July 21st
Thursday 6:00 PM to 9:00 PM on California Time
Please note that time is...
Friday, July 22, 2005
Friday 11:00 AM to 2:00 PM on Melbourne Time
There will be a special appearance by Krankiboy and he will be totally nude via keyboard!!!*
Just click on the coffee cup on the bottom of the main page.
Hope to see you there.
*Due to cyber nudity no nerds under the age of 18 will be permitted**
** With only a handful*** of exceptions.
*** No pun intended there.
The world-renouned Chez Kranki invites you to an online mixer.
I want to catch up with my international friends and fanatics and I hope that some of you can make it to my chat room on...
TODAY - Thursday, July 21st
Thursday 6:00 PM to 9:00 PM on California Time
Please note that time is...
Friday, July 22, 2005
Friday 11:00 AM to 2:00 PM on Melbourne Time
There will be a special appearance by Krankiboy and he will be totally nude via keyboard!!!*
Just click on the coffee cup on the bottom of the main page.
Hope to see you there.
*Due to cyber nudity no nerds under the age of 18 will be permitted**
** With only a handful*** of exceptions.
*** No pun intended there.
A Word From Our Sponsors
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Maker of fine products such as...
They're big, they're tender, they're beef. Go on, eat up. Unless of course you're some kinda Vegan Commie Fag!
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Sorry everybody. I tried to keep the Khronicles Commerical-Free but my Depraved Anti-establishment Humor grant didn't come through. I needed the advertising revenue to pay for Mom's Operation. However, the good news is, her cock is now bigger than mine. It's huge. She scared the neighbor's dog!
Thanks for understanding.
Krankiboy
There will now be oodles of ads on my site.
Come to the chat you fuckstain! It will be god-damn delightful =)
Maker of fine products such as...
They're big, they're tender, they're beef. Go on, eat up. Unless of course you're some kinda Vegan Commie Fag!
With 35% more Gravy they're the Graviest!
And....
You can take the fish out of the ocean but it's still filled with raw sewage and chemical waste... oh and near toxic levels of mercury-- but let's not focus on that! Yum yum, they're Coddelicious!
With CUDAHY Pure Pork Sausage you taste fresh-slaughtered hog in every bite! 4 out of 5 Creepy Old Guys prefer Cuday. They're Pigtastic!
Buy a Brick of Processed Pig Today!
Sorry everybody. I tried to keep the Khronicles Commerical-Free but my Depraved Anti-establishment Humor grant didn't come through. I needed the advertising revenue to pay for Mom's Operation. However, the good news is, her cock is now bigger than mine. It's huge. She scared the neighbor's dog!
Thanks for understanding.
Krankiboy
There will now be oodles of ads on my site.
Come to the chat you fuckstain! It will be god-damn delightful =)
Monday, July 18, 2005
120 Pounds of Baby
The 120 Pound Baby
I was on my way back from an interview in a not so great part of Los Angeles (that really narrows it down doesn't it) when I saw this tan, skeletal-looking dog running down the street.
She was emaciated with her ribs sticking out and her hip bones poking from her scrawny frame. She looked like she should be a 50 pound dog but she couldn't have been more than 35 lbs. Seriously malnourished. She had a tattered leash still attached to her collar. I stopped my car on a side street and went back to find her.
I followed her into a parking lot but she wouldn't let me get close to her. She would run hide bark and run. I wanted to see if she had a tag or at least get her to a dog shelter. She ate the dog food that I hadn't yet unpacked from my car and drag water from a barbie bowl I found in the trash, but despite my best non-threatening demeanor and skilled coaxing (repeating "c'mere sweetie girl" in a moronically cheery voice) she wouldn't let me get near her. Honestly, I was just happy to see her eat that small handful of dog food.
I went to the people who worked in the weird little office next door to ask them to call a rescue shelter but they said that they would have their janitor chase it off later. They just saw the dog as a pest and despite my request, couldn't grasp the idea of helping it.
On my way back to the car I passed a big, big Rottweiler fast asleep in the driveway of a house. I see that there is a guy nearby. Must be the owner, right? He then asked me "Zat yer dawg, man?" My dog? I assumed it was his but he said it wasn't as he grabbed a big broom. "Dude, whoa, are you going to go at that big scary Rottweiler with a broom?" The Rottweiler lumbered to it's feet and got into a defensive crouch. I had to stop the guy, tell him to put down the broom and get me a rope or string that I could use to put on the dog. Somehow the dog knew that I was there to help her and she slowly moved her huge body over to me. I put out my hand for her to smell and said a little heathen prayer that she wasn't going to attack me. She sniffed me then licked my hand and I very slowly scratched her head and just like that we were friends. An old lady next door gave me an extra leash that she had and the man-tard with the broom looked at me like I was crazy. He asked "You like a professional dog handler guy sumthin?" I shook my head and clipped the leash on the dog's collar. I called her Sugar Girl for some reason which evolved into Baby. She had a choke on her but no tag, and although she looked fed she wasn't well cared for. She was badly calloused on her legs and had a partly healed nasty-looking golf ball-sized welt on her hind leg. I thought I'd take her around the neighborhood to look for a possible owner. Six seconds later, after an "intense" search for a possible neglectful, asshole owner, the big girl jumped right into the back of my car without hesitation. I got the sense that she might be a guard dog that wasn't as ferocious as the owner would have liked and she'd probably been turned out.
I brought her home and introduced her to Ass Breath and Freckle Dick. They were both intimidated by her size and bulk. Ass Breath did not appreciate it when she lifted his entire rear end off the ground with just her snout. She was very sweet-natured and gave me sloppy kisses if I lingered near her face too long. Pant, drool, pant, drool, pant drool, repeat. Did I mention that she drools? I was dodging drool puddles that formed on the ground. If my dogs were any smaller they would have been in real danger of being immersed in a drool puddle and forced to swim for their lives. She probably hadn't been bathed in a few years, so I gave her bath and washed off tons of dirt. During the first three shampooings the suds were entirely brown. I think I used 2/3rds of a giant shampoo bottle.
Into the evening the Drool Festival continued. At one point in the early morning, I rolled over and felt something warm and sticky on the bed sheets. I was actually relieved that it was drool. It couldn't have been me as I hadn't had any provocative dreams. Had I? IF only I had a Rottweiler to blame when I was 13 years old and having "nocturnal emissions."
TANGENT WARNING:
Nocturnal Emissions is such a great name that it almost makes me want to learn an instrument and form a punk group just so we can call our band Nocturnal Emission. Coming soon to a venue near you.
Anyhow, Baby, (No, reader I'm not flirting with you, that's the dog's name remember? *winks, licks lips*) was a bit wobbly and clumsy and kept stepping on my foot. But she was a real sweetie in temperament. She even tried to romp around with my dogs. But that would be comparable to me trying to wrestle a cement truck. I googled Rottweilers to find a rescue place just for that specific breed instead of some run-of-the-mill dog pound or shelter where they put the dogs down if they aren't adopted. During my googling, I discovered that Leonardo Dicaprio has a Rottweiler who is also named Baby. I swear that I named her before I knew this. I didn't name her after his dog because of some latent homoerotic obsession with Leo. *faux swoon*
I found a Rotty rescue place and called them and they agreed to take her the next day if I could bring her over. When she told me they'd take her it was as if a huge slobbery 120 weight had been lifted from my chest. I was reluctant about driving with her alone in the car as she tended to stand up and not lay flat in the back seat. But my goto friend was working that day and I wanted her to see the vet ASAP as she looked as if she might be pregnant. I used some leftover meat (Sesame Ginger Marinated London Broil) to get her back into the car. As I feared she remained standing and I finally had to shut the window so she wouldn't constantly bonk her head. So I'm following these elaborate multi-freeway directions that the Rescue Lady gave me. Take the 10 E to the 110 N to the 5 to the 101 to the 134... It would have been enough of a challenge just getting there with my "directionally challenged" mind. Baby began to poke her head up into the front seat to nuzzle me. I had to be careful not to stop short or she would go lurching forward. That proved impossible and I had to brace her so she didn't slip each time a car stopped short in front of me. It was even more fun when she decided she needed attention and began prodding me with her head, so I would pet her. Then, wanting to be close to her new buddy, she proceeded to climb into the front seat. Not the front passenger seat. My seat. Now, although it's true that I am a master of the Electric Nunchucka and one of the Most Feared Pirates on all the 7 seas, I am not a big strong guy who can move a Rottweiler with one hand. I am amazed I didn't hit another car with all the swerving. I tried to pull the car over to the side of the road from the middle lane but cars were shooting past me on both sides and nobody would let me in. Fuck you people who don't let other people into their lane. I finally reached around her and hit the hazard lights but still nobody would let me pull into the right lane. I was sure that I was going to bash into another car and get into a huge car wreck. I was sweating like mad and frantically pushing at her. I needed both my arms but couldn't exactly take my left arm off the wheel at 65 mph. That's when things got really scary. She shifted her weight onto me and her leg threw the gear shift and car into neutral. Oh fuck me! Fuck me very much. I tried to keep her from mashing me against the driver-side door. A car crash felt imminent and I must have used whatever adrenaline rush that the fear gave me to push her into the passenger seat and throw the car back into drive. She was slumped in the passenger seat. I pulled over, put her into the back and stuffed a big 40-pound dog food bag to block her from doing that again. From there the place was mercifully nearby. I pulled into the lot, met Betty the Rottweiler Rescue Lady and we lifted Baby into the back of her truck I said good-bye and Betty took Baby off to see the Vet.
Reflecting on the joy-ride over I had two thoughts. First, I thought if I been killed in that situation but my wife and family would have an exceptionally hard time explaining how it happened."Krankiboy was... killed by a Rottweiler... in a traffic accident... while rescuing her." Huh? Would the dog have been charged with vehicular manslaughter? That would be a shame because Rottys have a bad enough rep as it is for biting and attacking, they don't need to add reckless driving to their resume.
Well, kids... I got me a call from Rescue-lady Betty yesterday and she informed me that Baby is with a kind foster family with big ole yard. The family's old Rottweiler had recently died and Betty was optimistic that they might commit to adopting Baby.
Thanks for an interesting few days, Baby. In all the chaos, Penny and I forgot to take a picture to remember her stay with us. But if you envision an enormous arthritic female Rottweiler and then garnish it with six quarts of drool, you'll get a good mental picture of Baby.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
4th Down and Six Feet Under
I found this. Is it poignant or pathetic? You make the call!
Body of Steelers Fan Viewed in Recliner
1 hour, 1 minute ago
PITTSBURGH - James Henry Smith was a zealous
Pittsburgh Steelers fan in life, and even death could not keep him from his favorite spot: in a recliner, in front of a TV showing his beloved team in action.
Smith, 55, of Pittsburgh, died of prostate cancer Thursday. Because his death wasn't unexpected, his family was able to plan for an unusual viewing Tuesday night.
The Samuel E. Coston Funeral Home erected a small stage in a viewing room, and arranged furniture on it much as it was in Smith's home on game day Sundays.
Smith's body was on the recliner, his feet crossed and a remote in his hand. He wore black and gold silk pajamas, slippers and a robe. A pack of cigarettes and a beer were at his side, while a high-definition TV played a continuous loop of Steelers highlights.
"I couldn't stop crying after looking at the Steeler blanket in his lap," said his sister, MaryAnn Nails, 58. " He loved football and nobody did (anything) until the game went off. It was just like he was at home."
Longtime friend Mary Jones called the viewing "a celebration."
"I saw it and I couldn't even cry," she said. "People will see him the way he was."
Smith's burial plans were more traditional — he'll be laid to rest in a casket.
That's just freaky. What happens if this idea catches on? I'd hate to see what they do when Ron Jeremy dies ...
--Posted by BEVIS at 7/17/2005 11:28:41 PM
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
For Your Safety
More from my main man Ron. I think he's sweet on me.
Krankiboy, following is a story how the Pretender Voice Changer was used. At the end of the story, you will find a bonus offer just for you.
(Wow, for me and me alone? I am special! Yay! Mother was right!)
Bleary-eyed, Casey strolled in to the office, clutching a cup of coffee. She almost stumbled over her friend Jen at the elevator. "I'm so sorry," Casey apologized, "This guy keeps calling me at three in the morning. Every night, he tries to tell me these nasty things. I keep hoping he'll stop, but he doesn't! "Jen clucked, "I bet the phone company said they couldn't do anything about it, huh?" "Yeah," Casey exclaimed, "since he's not actually threatening me, and he's blocking his caller ID, they're helpless. They actually told me to turn off my ringer. I can't do that! What if there's an emergency when the kids are at their dad's?" "The same thing happened to me last year," whispered Jen. "Wanna know how I got rid of the guy?" Jen told Casey how her old college roommate told her about thePretender Voice Changer. She loved her new apartment, but wasn't so crazy about the neighborhood. Since the voice changer made itsound like a burly man lived at her place, she thought it would be perfect if someone buzzed her doorbell late at night."Instead," Jen said, "this jerk starts calling my number ALL THE TIME. I'd get messages from him all day long, but I don't think he had the guts to actually call me at night. So I took a personal day, got myself a good book and settled in next to the phone." "So what happened," asked Casey."Sure enough, the guy calls," Jen said, " and I answer, "Hello, this is Mark.'"Casey gasped, "what did he do?" "He just gulped and said he had the wrong number," Jen replied. Casey puzzled, "the guy didn't know you were a woman?" "He had no clue," exclaimed Jen, "because it sounds so real. I've got it on my answering machine, if you want to hear it." Jen whipped out her cell phone and dialed her home number, handing the phone to Casey as it rang. When the machine pickedup, Casey's eyes bulged with surprise."No way," Casey gasped. "There's no way that's your voice. You sound like a guy!" "It's great," Jen confessed, "though I did have to explain to my Mom why some guy was answering my phone. But it gets better. The guy called back one more time." "What'd you do?" asked Casey?" This time, I pressed the button that made it sound like I had a baby crying in the background," giggled Jen. "I switched on my male voice and told him that I'd better not find the guy that woke up my kid. I swear I heard him drop the phone, he tried to hang up so fast!" "That's it," cried Casey. "You've got to tell me where you got that thing."
For your safety, Ron
Once again, it is obviously a 100% authentic story, but I have some questions.
www.a1safetyproducts.com P.S. kranki, you can get a Pretender Voice Changer just like Jen's by visiting: www.a1safetyproducts.com/prvoch.html. We have the Pretender Voice Changer on sale for only $48.30! P.P.S. If you order the Pretender within the next five days, I will give you a FREE Electronic Pocket/Keychain whistle...a $15.95 value. Just mention FREE Electronic Pocket/Keychainwhistle in the comments box when you check out. Don't forget...if you don't mention FREE Electronic Pocket/Keychain whistle we won't know to send it to you. Click here to be removed from this list:
(And if you don't tell us to go fuck ourselves with our crappy-ass lame-o product when won't know to do it.)
What's sadder than this feeble Promotional Attempt is the fact that I already own the stupid thing. Yes, it was going to be a fun gag gift from my father in law who is a practical joker of the highest order. Alas it was too crappy to even use as a gag gift. So I have for eight months already watching it collect dust. Does it work as well as they say? Fuck no. It's a piece of garbage. I think my dogs could build something better with fish innards and balsa wood. It is this crappy little piece of plastic thing that was probably state of the art when Lincoln was President.
If you talk into one side very loudly it will make you sound like a Cylon Warrior from Battlestar Glactica. Although I imagine this could deter some pervert would stop calling you up to heavy breath into the phone. As for the button that makes it sound like there is a baby crying in the back ground... it sounds more like a robot chipmunk puking. Let me testify to the fact that if you wish to scare away callers by pretending to be a Cylon Warrior from Battestar Glactica then this is the device for you. Very authentic. However if your mystery caller happens to like Sci-Fi or has a vomiting rodent fetish (which from my experience most do mystery callers do) then I very highly recommend that you not purchase this product. It would be a perfectly good waste of a 9 Volt battery that could get put to much better if it were thrown from the top of a tall building.
Tangent Warning: I always heard that "if you drop a penny off the top of the Empire State Building, it will go right through a person's entire body. I always wondered if that was actually true. Would it go through skull and bone?
You: Yes, krankiboy. I'll let you know the+
next time I'm in New York and feel like raining coins of charity on pedestrians.
Me: (not grasping sarcasm) Cool!
Krankiboy, following is a story how the Pretender Voice Changer was used. At the end of the story, you will find a bonus offer just for you.
(Wow, for me and me alone? I am special! Yay! Mother was right!)
Bleary-eyed, Casey strolled in to the office, clutching a cup of coffee. She almost stumbled over her friend Jen at the elevator. "I'm so sorry," Casey apologized, "This guy keeps calling me at three in the morning. Every night, he tries to tell me these nasty things. I keep hoping he'll stop, but he doesn't! "Jen clucked, "I bet the phone company said they couldn't do anything about it, huh?" "Yeah," Casey exclaimed, "since he's not actually threatening me, and he's blocking his caller ID, they're helpless. They actually told me to turn off my ringer. I can't do that! What if there's an emergency when the kids are at their dad's?" "The same thing happened to me last year," whispered Jen. "Wanna know how I got rid of the guy?" Jen told Casey how her old college roommate told her about thePretender Voice Changer. She loved her new apartment, but wasn't so crazy about the neighborhood. Since the voice changer made itsound like a burly man lived at her place, she thought it would be perfect if someone buzzed her doorbell late at night."Instead," Jen said, "this jerk starts calling my number ALL THE TIME. I'd get messages from him all day long, but I don't think he had the guts to actually call me at night. So I took a personal day, got myself a good book and settled in next to the phone." "So what happened," asked Casey."Sure enough, the guy calls," Jen said, " and I answer, "Hello, this is Mark.'"Casey gasped, "what did he do?" "He just gulped and said he had the wrong number," Jen replied. Casey puzzled, "the guy didn't know you were a woman?" "He had no clue," exclaimed Jen, "because it sounds so real. I've got it on my answering machine, if you want to hear it." Jen whipped out her cell phone and dialed her home number, handing the phone to Casey as it rang. When the machine pickedup, Casey's eyes bulged with surprise."No way," Casey gasped. "There's no way that's your voice. You sound like a guy!" "It's great," Jen confessed, "though I did have to explain to my Mom why some guy was answering my phone. But it gets better. The guy called back one more time." "What'd you do?" asked Casey?" This time, I pressed the button that made it sound like I had a baby crying in the background," giggled Jen. "I switched on my male voice and told him that I'd better not find the guy that woke up my kid. I swear I heard him drop the phone, he tried to hang up so fast!" "That's it," cried Casey. "You've got to tell me where you got that thing."
For your safety, Ron
Once again, it is obviously a 100% authentic story, but I have some questions.
www.a1safetyproducts.com P.S. kranki, you can get a Pretender Voice Changer just like Jen's by visiting: www.a1safetyproducts.com/prvoch.html. We have the Pretender Voice Changer on sale for only $48.30! P.P.S. If you order the Pretender within the next five days, I will give you a FREE Electronic Pocket/Keychain whistle...a $15.95 value. Just mention FREE Electronic Pocket/Keychainwhistle in the comments box when you check out. Don't forget...if you don't mention FREE Electronic Pocket/Keychain whistle we won't know to send it to you. Click here to be removed from this list:
(And if you don't tell us to go fuck ourselves with our crappy-ass lame-o product when won't know to do it.)
What's sadder than this feeble Promotional Attempt is the fact that I already own the stupid thing. Yes, it was going to be a fun gag gift from my father in law who is a practical joker of the highest order. Alas it was too crappy to even use as a gag gift. So I have for eight months already watching it collect dust. Does it work as well as they say? Fuck no. It's a piece of garbage. I think my dogs could build something better with fish innards and balsa wood. It is this crappy little piece of plastic thing that was probably state of the art when Lincoln was President.
If you talk into one side very loudly it will make you sound like a Cylon Warrior from Battlestar Glactica. Although I imagine this could deter some pervert would stop calling you up to heavy breath into the phone. As for the button that makes it sound like there is a baby crying in the back ground... it sounds more like a robot chipmunk puking. Let me testify to the fact that if you wish to scare away callers by pretending to be a Cylon Warrior from Battestar Glactica then this is the device for you. Very authentic. However if your mystery caller happens to like Sci-Fi or has a vomiting rodent fetish (which from my experience most do mystery callers do) then I very highly recommend that you not purchase this product. It would be a perfectly good waste of a 9 Volt battery that could get put to much better if it were thrown from the top of a tall building.
Tangent Warning: I always heard that "if you drop a penny off the top of the Empire State Building, it will go right through a person's entire body. I always wondered if that was actually true. Would it go through skull and bone?
You: Yes, krankiboy. I'll let you know the+
next time I'm in New York and feel like raining coins of charity on pedestrians.
Me: (not grasping sarcasm) Cool!
Oh and listen to both this & this from the Battlestar Galactica Fan Site.
I think those are about all the pearls of brilliance I can spare for now. Lemme just double check....
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Yup.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Dear Abby
krankiboy, the following is a story how the Stun Alarm Flashlight was used. At the end of the story, you will find a bonus offer just for you.
Ever since her husband died, Abby felt a little less safe in their brown brick townhouse. They had always wanted to live in the city together, so they saved up what they could to buy a fixer-upper in a blossoming neighborhood. Then David got sick. Before very long, Abby was on her own again. She wanted to hang on to the good memories of that house, feeling confident that she and her neighbors were driving the bad element off the block. Still, she always made sure she was prepared for the worst. And when the lights went out on her during a really violent thunderstorm, she shuffled downstairs to the broom closet for her favorite flashlight, a gadget David had bought for her for their last Christmas together. Sixteen and a half inches long, but still very light, Abby loved how it brightened up a room. She turned it on, and looked for her emergency radio. Red and blue lights flickered through the windows, so Abby figured that the power would come back soon. As she swiveled around, the bright beam of light illuminated a strange face. Abby gasped. "Don't make a sound," growled the stranger, "or I'll hurt you." It didn't even take Abby a heartbeat to lunge forward with the flashlight. Her attacker grinned, expecting to deflect a blow. Instead, he received a 200,000-volt jolt of electricity from the flashlight's built-in stun baton. Abby loved that flashlight for a reason. Rushing over to the window, she activated the flashlight's piercing alarm. Cops outside saw her waving the light and rushed up to her building. She found out later that her attacker was a convicted criminal who tried to escape when his prisoner transport vehicle crashed into a utility pole. That explained the blackout - and the presence of this scary individual in Abby's home. The police sergeant had a blast explaining to the detectives how Abby used an innocent looking flashlight to nab one of the city's most wanted felons. And Abby felt David's presence in their home even stronger than ever.
Yours in safety, Ron
www.a1safeyproducts.com
Another truly inspiring story from Ron.
Personally I am happy that Abby has a sixteen inch long device to keep her company now that David has died from being "sick." It's really quite a nice change from all those"Woman beaten to death with her own flashlight" tales.
And this guy was one of the city's "Most wanted felons." Nice job, Abby, Batman and Spiderman are wussy little fags compared to you and your mighty flashlight.
I don't know where in the "city" Abby lives but the police certainly arrive on the scene quickly in that neighborhood.
Oh and there is a 130 pound Rotweiller panting on me as I type this. I found her a few hours ago being chased by some guy with a broom. I have no idea what the hell to do with her in our small apartment. I shampooed about a pound of dirt off of her. It was gross. She's sweet, but drooly. I don't think Ass Breath or Freckle Dick are all that happy to have her around. She be real big.
Ever since her husband died, Abby felt a little less safe in their brown brick townhouse. They had always wanted to live in the city together, so they saved up what they could to buy a fixer-upper in a blossoming neighborhood. Then David got sick. Before very long, Abby was on her own again. She wanted to hang on to the good memories of that house, feeling confident that she and her neighbors were driving the bad element off the block. Still, she always made sure she was prepared for the worst. And when the lights went out on her during a really violent thunderstorm, she shuffled downstairs to the broom closet for her favorite flashlight, a gadget David had bought for her for their last Christmas together. Sixteen and a half inches long, but still very light, Abby loved how it brightened up a room. She turned it on, and looked for her emergency radio. Red and blue lights flickered through the windows, so Abby figured that the power would come back soon. As she swiveled around, the bright beam of light illuminated a strange face. Abby gasped. "Don't make a sound," growled the stranger, "or I'll hurt you." It didn't even take Abby a heartbeat to lunge forward with the flashlight. Her attacker grinned, expecting to deflect a blow. Instead, he received a 200,000-volt jolt of electricity from the flashlight's built-in stun baton. Abby loved that flashlight for a reason. Rushing over to the window, she activated the flashlight's piercing alarm. Cops outside saw her waving the light and rushed up to her building. She found out later that her attacker was a convicted criminal who tried to escape when his prisoner transport vehicle crashed into a utility pole. That explained the blackout - and the presence of this scary individual in Abby's home. The police sergeant had a blast explaining to the detectives how Abby used an innocent looking flashlight to nab one of the city's most wanted felons. And Abby felt David's presence in their home even stronger than ever.
Yours in safety, Ron
www.a1safeyproducts.com
Another truly inspiring story from Ron.
Personally I am happy that Abby has a sixteen inch long device to keep her company now that David has died from being "sick." It's really quite a nice change from all those"Woman beaten to death with her own flashlight" tales.
And this guy was one of the city's "Most wanted felons." Nice job, Abby, Batman and Spiderman are wussy little fags compared to you and your mighty flashlight.
I don't know where in the "city" Abby lives but the police certainly arrive on the scene quickly in that neighborhood.
Oh and there is a 130 pound Rotweiller panting on me as I type this. I found her a few hours ago being chased by some guy with a broom. I have no idea what the hell to do with her in our small apartment. I shampooed about a pound of dirt off of her. It was gross. She's sweet, but drooly. I don't think Ass Breath or Freckle Dick are all that happy to have her around. She be real big.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Crusing with R Kelly
Nothing conveys the cultural complexities of Politics and Religion and Stardom better than the musical stylings of R Kelly.
Thank you to Giggles for yet another choice find.
Click here... and be patient.
or
http://www.picapic.net/media/TCM9C2S84Q8GV4
Thank you to Giggles for yet another choice find.
Click here... and be patient.
or
http://www.picapic.net/media/TCM9C2S84Q8GV4
Sunday, July 03, 2005
This Week's Magic Combo
You have those weeks in life where the same events seem to happen a few times and etch themselves into your memory. Sometimes it's nice to remember those memories by combining a couple of the events with a snappy alliterative title. It's much easier to recall these special times by giving them a charming name.
For instance:
"Say, darling, do you remember our trip to Nappa Valley?"
"Yes, and we picked those daisies under a gorgeous sunset. It was the weekend of Wine and Wildflowers."
Well, I personally will always remember this 4th of July Weekend as "The Weekend of Disturbing Dreams and Dogarrhea."
Dog - noun. A domesticated carnivorous mammal, Canis Familiaris, raised in a wide variety of breeds.
Diarrhea - noun. Pathologically excessive evacuation of watery feces.
Happy Fourth of July Weekend! Unless you're not a proud American. If that is the case that please have an adequate unit of leisure time.
What's your Week's Magic Combo! Is it Frisbee and Friends? Concerts and Car Crashes? Strawberries, and Straight Jackets? Marshmallows and Manslaughter? Is it Karate and Kittens? Is it Heroin, Handjobs and Homelessness?
Share!
For instance:
"Say, darling, do you remember our trip to Nappa Valley?"
"Yes, and we picked those daisies under a gorgeous sunset. It was the weekend of Wine and Wildflowers."
Well, I personally will always remember this 4th of July Weekend as "The Weekend of Disturbing Dreams and Dogarrhea."
Dog - noun. A domesticated carnivorous mammal, Canis Familiaris, raised in a wide variety of breeds.
Diarrhea - noun. Pathologically excessive evacuation of watery feces.
Happy Fourth of July Weekend! Unless you're not a proud American. If that is the case that please have an adequate unit of leisure time.
What's your Week's Magic Combo! Is it Frisbee and Friends? Concerts and Car Crashes? Strawberries, and Straight Jackets? Marshmallows and Manslaughter? Is it Karate and Kittens? Is it Heroin, Handjobs and Homelessness?
Share!
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