Fracking, oil-soaked fish flambé, lust, Mayor deBlasio, snow and other random thoughts #5
I’m going to turn that frown upside down. But first, I need to complain.
I read in the news that Chevron owned a fracking well that exploded and as part of their public mea culpa, they included a free large pizza coupon in their apology letter. Isn’t that wonderful of them? I am starting to wonder if all British Petroleum had to do during their oil spill is let the local people keep the oil-covered fish from the ocean.
Imagine trying to eat oil-soaked fish from the BP Gulf spill. I’d try the fish. Why not? Just take the fish, salt and pepper it, and then light a match with the fish on a platter. You burn off the oil and your fish is perfectly cooked. British Petroleum did us a favor with the oil spill — ready to cook fish. Mmm, yummy.
I pray for erectile dysfunction every day. My penis is a bit too functional. No matter what chick I meet, I’m fantasizing about having sex with her.
My penis is like that guy you meet at a party who has been up for five days straight, his nose has cocaine boogers in it and he screams at you, “Let’s go fire some guns!” That dude is nervously looking for guns to fire and you just want to get the hell out of there, and five minutes later you are firing guns with a coke-head.
All penises get us men into trouble. Ladies, I am not asking for a free pass whenever we screw up. I’m just saying look at what we’re working with downstairs. The penis is the reason why Rome became an empire. The penis is the reason why we landed on the Moon. The penis is why Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence.
Although, Cleopatra’s vagina is why Rome fell apart, but I’ll write about that another time.
I go to the Stop and Shop supermarket, and there’s this lady who’s talking to herself, collecting shopping carts. OK, this chick is obviously a little mentally tapped. Despite her stringy hair, her goatee, her rotund physique and, of course, crazy person non-stop monologues – I’d bang her. All of the sudden, I’m imagining her collecting shopping carts in high heels and a corset… That’s right woman, collect those shopping carts, you sexy bitch. Daddy is gonna give you his shopping cart where the sun don’t shine. Meet me in aisle three, you sexy bitch.
Ever see a fat chick in a corset? Imagine a freezer bag filled with milkshake and you grab the bag by the center. I love chubby girls, but seriously, your corsets do not help you. You already have enough titty for three bulimic chicks. And I’m not talking about your tits in front of you – I’m talking about the saggy back tits. I want to slap your back tits around.
Who am I kidding? I will be masturbating to this image later. Bring on the big girls on corsets!
Men are sluts.
Mayor DiBlasio of New York City is pretty rad. During his first snowstorm as mayor, he plowed the streets of New York City except for the Upper East Side, where the filthy rich people live. Way to get back at the one percent! DiBlasio could also try a “ring and ditch” with a flaming bag of vegan food.
Ding dong! Oh my God! I just stepped into a meatloaf made out of eggplant! NO! I got veganaise all over my thousand dollar shoes! You vegetable eating moochers! Make way for a rich man!
Cruncha-muncha. Fritos on my non-healthy sub! Anyone see the new Subway commercials? You were eating fresh. Now you require a forklift and a special toilet. Everyone watch out for Jared. He’ll have to start wearing his fat clothes soon. Welcome back, homey.
Finally, I am absolutely sick of the weather. It’s been a miserable summer. Here in Rhode Island we can’t seem to go two weeks without a snowstorm requiring kids to take a day off from school. In California, they were in a dangerous drought situation. On top of that, by the time they actually got rain, they had mudslide warnings. Snow in Atlanta — Georgia paralyzed the good people of Georgia. Could you imagine two inches of snow stranding you at a Home Depot parking lot? They had friends come by and drop off clothing and food. The obvious question – if your friends could make it to your car, can’t they take you home?
This has been the winter of discontent. I can’t wait for the summer, so I can start complaining about how hot it is outside. What sort of weather do I want? I want the kind of weather where I don’t care about the weather outside. Know what I mean? I don’t want it so hot I can cook an egg on a sidewalk and I don’t want it so cold that I can freeze a woman’s egg in a cryogenic tube. I want it warm enough where I can catch oil-soaked BP fish.
Let’s go fishing everyone!