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http://unicornbooty.com/2011/04/why-cstring-whyyyy/

https://www.cstringdirect.com/index.html


CString. O.o I think you keep it on by squeezing your ass cheeks together.

No more tan lines. Easier strip-ability for those spur-of-the-moment beachsex adventures.

Not for people with toxic ass-spew, un-groomed crotch-thatch, shame, or dignity.

Next year the new lingerie will be spray-on.

Brought on by Suu's post featuring the song "I Just Had Sex" in another thread.

LaTour - People Are Still Having Sex - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ImRyPymRAM

Flight of the Conchords - Business Time - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGOohBytKTU

Lords of Acid - Rough Sex - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6C9XQ0VoEU

E-Rotic - Fred Come to Bed - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8kYIZR7ke8

Venga Boys - Boom Boom Boom I Want You In My Room - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xMP-JqFQ_l4

Bloodhound Gang - Bad Touch (The Discovery Channel Song) - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xat1GVnl8-k

That's all I could think of off the top of my head.

[now]

I don't know if this has been posted elsewhere, feel free to delete/move/merge if it has. My girlfriend brought this to my attention. I giggled like a loon. So naturally I wanted to share.

http://www.alternet.org/newsandviews/article/568620/tn_senate_oks_bill_that_would_make_it_illegal_to_mention_the_existence_of_gay_people_to_students/

The Tennessee Senate Judiciary Committee has approved one lawmaker's revolutionary plan to fight the "homosexual agenda": don't tell students gay people exist until they get to high school.

So what happens to a kid who talks about his two daddies during Bring-A-Parent-To-School day?

Are bi-sexuals also on the pretend-they-aren't-real list or will they be referred to as creatures of myth and legend?

What's even more sad is that opposition to the bill in the state Senate focused not on the legislation being damaging, hateful, and downright stupid, but rather on the fact that the bill might be redundant:

Well we can't have redundant legislature. I mean, it's never happened before so we shouldn't start that trend now.

Tracy proposed an amendment to rewrite Campfield's bill to require the Board of Education to study the issue and determine whether any teaching about homosexuality is occurring and, if so, recommend what should be done about it.

So basically they want a study that will determine if "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" should be instituted in the elementary/middle school classroom.

Hehehehe. Hehehe. Hehe. He. Ha!

[TIKI!!!]

Yesterday was a fun-filled day of angst and bullshit and stupid people disturbing my chi. So my girlfriend and I sauntered down to the Dollar Store that had just opened. She was in search of cheap candles and candy and picture frames. I was looking for something much more profound.

Peace of mind.

. . . Well, actually, cheap lulz.

BUT! What I found was priceless. If you ignore the price tag. Anyway.

First thing I noticed was that the store was clean. It smelled heavily of chemicals and fresh carpets and carcinogens but it was still clean. And quiet. There wasn't a screaming child in the place, unlike my store which had an out-of-tune orchestra of squalling crotch-spawn bellowing their discontent to anyone who would listen and a lot of people (including their parents) who wouldn't.

It was bliss for all of five seconds, before I noticed something disquieting.



In the Dollar Store, ducks are hollow and taste like milk. O.o

Turning away quickly, before curiosity woke up and started poking things with sticks, I saw this:



A Bible Heroes card game, which is played by the child standing on the adult's chest. Clearly this is a reference to David vs Goliath, where a ten-year-old took down the Patriarchy with an epic game of Memory. Like Pokemon, only with bible verses.

This was the tipping point. I started seeing God everywhere.

. . . . . .

Because what sticker collection wouldn't be complete without an image of Christ on the Cross (and various other poses!) !?!? And these awesomely inspiring stickers came with their own sticker books.



Just slap a sticker over all the offending passages and keep what you want, with nifty pictures now included. Seriously, why didn't anyone think of this before? It saves red ink and makes the Bibles more appealing to look at.

And of course there were these:



What home office wouldn't be complete without the reminder that God is ready to accidentally all over your shit if you don't drop to your knees like a good little intern?

By then I was practically giggling as I pranced around this place, wondering how many other God-related goodies I could find. But I was distracted by candy.



And some ultra trendy champagne glasses, fit for communion, wedding, or wake!



And then . . . then I realized that God was not the only holy spirit present within the Dollar Store. There were others. Amidst the party decorates I saw the first sign of something more (or less) than Godly.



TIKI?!



TIKI!!! The presence of Dark Empress Nigel was palpable. Like a gin and tonic mixed with the sweat of a thousand hipsters splashing against my face. Here, in Her other persona, she lured me deeper into the mysteries of Eris. Which apparently include a whole new style of trendy glasses, fit for wedding, wake, and/or drunken pool party-slash-holy day.



My mind whirling, I turned to flee before my head exploded from the weight of this Knowledge. And. Then. I. Saw. The. Truth.

GLOW IN THE DARK TOMAHAWKS ARE FUN AND EASY!

[/size]

Of course. It all makes so much sense now. THIS is why bitches are unaware of Nigel's tomahawks. Of Coyote's and Roger's tomahawks. Because they are fun and easy and all God-followers have are 'sentiment' plaques and shitty stickers.

I was enlightened.

Finished with me, having sucked the last of my brain juice through a faux bamboo straw inserted into my ear . . .

the store spat me out onto the sidewalk. Dazed, enlightened, and lighter $5 worth of glow-in-the-dark tomahawks, I wandered home to tell everyone about my discovery*.

_{But by the time I got home I was so tired and my knee hurt like such a wicked bitch - I fell asleep and had lots of weird nightmares and then I had work again to day so, you know. It had to wait until after THAT. But I am totally sharing it with you now so it counts 169% as preaching the Good Word, right?}

Starlight, Sweetheart, Melody!
Bright-Eyes, Patch, and Clover!
Bon-Bon's baking cookies, girls!
Hurry up on O-O-VER!

My Little Pony,
My Little Pony,
MY Little Pony TA-AAALES!

My Little Pony,
My Little Pony,
MY LITTLE PONY TA-AAALES!

There. Attack that. I have the theme song to "My Little Ponies" memorized and stuck in my head forever. Also, pretty much every New Kids On The Block song, ever.

Please kill me. :P

Also:

I like Billy,
I like Tony,
but what I love is my first Sony!
(It won't be your la-ast!)

:P

How's that? Or should I try again?

[Pilot Episode]

This is a repost from my LJ. I thought the real chef-y type people here would find it amusing. Yes, I made (and ate) the shit I wrote into the 'script'.

Pilot Episode - June 30th, 2010

Hi folks, and welcome to my show Ten Minute Messes, the only show that shows you how to take drab leftovers and everyday ingredients and transform them into something faaaaabulouuussss!

But before we get started, let's cover today's Money Saving Tip. When we're doing something like this, with no set recipe, it's easy to find ourselves going back and forth to the fridge at least a dozen times. Often we end up standing there with the door open, just staring at our options. But all that opening and closing and staring is costing us money, folks. Money that could be better spent on food! So to save ourselves a little cash, we want to make sure we get all the ingredients we're going to use in one trip. Make it part of the food-making challenge to grab what you want to use in one trip. Anything that gets left behind, stays behind! And can become part of the next recipe you make. This adds to the adventure and conserves energy - a double win!

What we're working with today is some day-old mac'n'cheese that originally came out of a box. We've also got some abandoned beef roast that was crockpotted to deliciousness, partially devoured, and forgotten for at least a week.

I also found two hardboiled eggs, some Miracle Whip, and two types of salad dressing: a basalmic with basil vinaigrette and ranch.

Because the hodge-podge of flavors is going to be the focus of this dish as we try to bring them to harmony, we're going to start out by cutting the mac, eggs and beef into roughly the same size pieces. This is an important step because we want to try and have similar amounts of flavor from each of these ingredients in each bite. Cutting the beef and egg down to mac sized bits will also allow us to taste how our Whip-and-salad-dressing sauce reacts to each piece.

--> If you've watched this show before, you know this is the part where I say you can always change things up. You want smaller beef-bits? Go for it. The bit I'm using right now crumbles beautifully as I roll it in my fingers to sprinkle over the mac. Look at how that golden mac'n'cheese is already starting to look revitalized by the meat.

You can also, at any point in time, decide you're done and call it a meal. This show is all about giving you a basic idea of what things to toss together to make a new and interesting taste - but the important thing is to ignore what your mother always told you and play with your food. Make it yours - something you actually want to eat.

I guarantee you'll come up with something far more fun and tasty than yet another fast food meal - or you'll have a really interesting story to tell the doctors at the ER when you're explaining how you got food poisoning. <--

Okay, now that we've got our beef and eggs cut up to a like size, we're going to throw it all into a bowl and add a hefty dollop of Miracle Whip. If you don't have Miracle Whip, you can use any sort of mayonnaise. Just be careful to check the expiration date. We aren't trying to poison ourselves on purpose, after all.

The best thing about Miracle Whip, in this recipe (if you could call it that), is that along with being a great binding element - it helps hide little things, like the mac and beef being a little dry. And it allows us to take our concoction and do fun things like use it for a dip or slap it on a sandwich. And why is that good?

Say it with me, guys. BECAUSE ANYTHING CAN BE A SANDWICH! That's right, you remembered! What a great audience.

Now while a normal person might stop here and just leave the Whip to hold things together, I'm going to go another step farther and add a splash of the vinaigrette and a dollop of the ranch. I'm also going to borrow SpiceWeasel, here, and add some salt and pepper. A little more mixing and viola! Here we are, at our tasting point.

Remember we always want to have a little dish and spoon on hand for taste testing. You can use the dish to hold the sample and compare the taste of that to what you've done since that point and a small spoon means less likelihood of getting too much of something really nasty in your mouth.

Just a little bit on the spoon here and we pop it in our mouths . . .

Woof! Blech! Ptooie! AAAAAAUUUUGH!! What have I done? Oh God! I've created a monster, a horrible horrible monster! MEDIC!! MED----------------

-=Show fades out to be replaced with a test signal.=-

The first time I disappointed my dad was the day I was born. Well. Really, the first time was one month before I was born, as I was thirty days late. But we're keeping this simple.

I disappointed him by coming out with girl parts as opposed to the boy parts the doctor assured him I would possess. I continue to disappoint him to this day because of this fact.

I disappointed my mother, for the first time, shortly after birth when at a very young age I refused to be her fucking dress-up dolly and picked out my own clothes. She continues to be disappointed in me for this reason.

Every time I got into a fight at school or failed to be popular in some area, I got a lecture and a guilt trip and then got the shit beat out of me for making the family look bad.

Every time I told a teacher what was going on, they'd go drinking with my dad. I'd come home. Get a lecture and a guilt trip. Then get the shit beat out of me for making the family look bad.

When I refused to drop out of high school, get married to a pig farmer's son (who's family was friends with my family), and shit out kids - I did more than disappoint. I spat in the faces of my entire father's family. And his family is huge.

I got grounded for skipping prom, despite the fact my parents drank their paychecks so there was no money for a dress or any of that shit.

When I went to college - more disappointment and pissed off-ness.

When I left college and took off for Iowa because I was going psychotic between my failures to adapt to normal society and daily phone calls from my mother saying she was going to kill herself if I didn't come home, that was another shit storm.

And since I've refused to go back for more than a week or so every five years, I am the anti-christ.

I have dealt with more shit in my life than someone like you has ever fucking known existed. Name the abuse, I've lived it.

I'm not playing a game here, I'm not doing the woe-is-me, I'm so pitiful, shower sympathy on me and make your Queen.

Fuck that. Fuck you. Fall over and die in a fire.

I am telling you this because I will not stop calling you on your bullshit every fucking time you try to guilt trip, bully, or emotionally blackmail someone and hold them hostage for your amusement. I will not stop telling you when you are lying, when you are using your 'damage' to get something you want. I can see your game. I know you are playing. Your trauma can be real. Your crazy can be real. I'm not calling you a fake.

Being called on your bullshit works wonders for increasing your ability to find your big girl panties, put them on, and get over it. Really. I'm not just a member, I'm also a client.

TL;DR - I am saying:

1.) You are not a special snowflake.

2.) There is no fucking fairy godmother coming to deliver you from the trials of participating as a functioning member of society.

3.) You cannot be damaged, flawed, and helpless AND be perfect in every possible aspect at the same time.

4.) Shut the fuck up. Get over yourself. Get some fucking therapy.

OR KILL ME.

I was cruising the 'net looking for likely WOMP-able images to pwn Coyote. True to form, I got distracted within two minutes and found these guys instead.

http://designyoutrust.com/2008/07/03/where-photography-meets-illustration/

http://filthyluker.deviantart.com/gallery/

ETA: And then I decided to share . . . but got distracted before I finished the post. >.>

I crochet. And weave, spin, quilt, etc. Whatever catches my attention. And given that my Holy Name^TM includes "Geyser" and "Rainbow", I figured this was appropriate to share. :P

Still needs a border but there you go. Rainbow yarn vomit all over the couch.


*Edited to fix link snafu.

http://www.arthousecoop.com/projects/fiction

The Fiction Project is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. Add your voice to this year's coast-to-coast tour and create new work grounded in the act of writing. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library's narrative collection, archiving your stories to share them with the public.

I am kicking around the idea of doing something with this. Have any of you ever participated? My first idea was to write a bunch of little fucked-up horror stories and illustrate with My Little Pony stickers dabbed in strategic places with red nail polish. But that's crazy and probably not conducive to the project's premise. *sigh*

The boyfriend and I tried a new (to me) Taco Bell after work yesterday. After we went to the clusterfuck that is his bank and I didn't get us thrown out by making comments on the ratio of customers vs. tellers or ethnicity vs. security (not in an effort to be smart, just to be funny but apparently my 'humor' means 'things that will get us shot' to him) . . . tacos were my reward.

So we ate tacos. And by the time we got home . . . my guts were churning. I got as far as squatting with my pants down before I desecrated the toilet and gave a new meaning to the phrase 'backscatter'. Seriously. My ass was a torpedo launcher and between the time it started firing and my ass actually hit the toilet seat, there were so many splashes that my ass and the toilet were covered.

I cleaned it up and told the boyfriend about it. He said "Now you know what it's like to have IBS, welcome to my world."

I now know why he has bought stock in baby-wipes and why the idea of anal sex is repugnant to him.

Please allow me to extend my sympathies to everyone with IBS and oh man, I am so, so sorry about all those jokes.

http://omg.yahoo.com/news/lady-gaga-touts-abstinence-to-protect-creativity/44931

"I have this weird thing that if I sleep with someone they're going to take my creativity through my vagina," the performer said in an interview with Vanity Fair magazine that was released on Monday.

So we just need to wait for someone to seduce her and fuck the crazy out of her? Or will her vagina devour her lover in a bizarre praying mantis/venus fly trap way and induce a state of torpor like a boa constrictor eating an alligator?