Postings for May 2002
VAGINA MONOLOGUES: REDUX
Posted: Tuesday, May 28, 2002
Upon examination of many a vagina, I have come to the conclusion that the inside of a woman's vagina is quite possibly the ugliest most scariest thing I have ever seen. I don't think anybody really pays attention to the physical monstrosity that is the vagina. All most people know is that it's warm and slippery inside of one. You've simply go to peek inside and take a look.
First lets examine the "lips" or labia. What fucking purpose do these serve at all? What exactly are they trying to hide? Why can you stretch them out like a circus balloon? Not only do they boggle the mind, but they're ugly as sin. And what's with the eerie resemblance and feel of ballbag skin? This is only the first of many layers of mystery and deformity.
Lets now take a look at the clitoris, or as I like to call it the "Twitch Button." A tiny bud of flesh wearing a skin hood. Why the fuck does it need a hood. Is it going out in the rain? Is it a sexual organ, or a boxer walking to the ring. Sure, we all love to lap it, yet take a look at it's physical characteristics. It's like licking one end of a mini pig in a blanket. I'm not complaining. But you gotta admit it looks a little silly. Don't you think?
Now onto the real meat, the vaginal opening. At a glance, it looks like a simple hole. Now lets delve deeper. Spread that sucker open and take a nice long look. Grab a Mag-Lite if need be. OK. Here I go with the questions again. What the fuck is up with these mini stalagmites and stalagmites up in there? I'm trying to fuck, not go spelunking. Everyone must play very close attention to the puss. It's a very mysterious and strange place. Random flaps of skin here and there. A bump here. A hood there. And also, the occasional sound. Squishy, I don't mind. The sound that bothers me is the one where it sounds like I ate an entire bowl of onion dip and 5 cups of coffee, but instead of it coming out of my ass, it's coming out of her thatch. That sound is not supposed to emit from a vagina. A Great Dane's ass? Sure. A vagina? No.
Look. I'm not gay. I love gash as much as the next guy. The simple truth is, the vagina is an awful looking piece of skin and tissue.
"It stinks, and I DO like it."
FoundryMusicDanny
LAST CALL: A NIGHT IN THE LIFE OF A BARTENDER
Posted: Monday, May 13, 2002
Sure, everybody knows your name. Problem is, you don't want them to. Being a bartender is not at all like it's portrayed on TV or in the movies. You're not Woody from Cheers and it's not even close to being Tom Cruise from cocktail. The truth of the matter is that you're a dumb douche who peddles the last legal drug.
My night pretty much consists of being hassled by cheap fucks who if I don't buy back every other drink refer to me as a cocksniffer all night. And those are your regulars. I'd rather sip on a decomposing abortion than have to make small talk with these low life nothings. Fifty cents doesn't seem like a reasonable tip after a dumb middle aged box vents on you because she can't conceive how NBC could possibly air Fear Factor after the 9/11 tragedy. Blabbering uncontrollably after 2 Cuervo shots and screaming at the top of her lungs about fucking Fear Factor. That's being a bartender.
Being a bartender also means dealing with your 70 year old Irish boss who's accent is thicker than Lady Di and Marion combined. As you pretend to understand what he's saying you gag on breath that can only be described as burnt feet. You don't dare say anything, because you rely on him for your hefty $30 a shift.
Every night is one big sausage party. Nobody is a quiet drunk. The pool table never works and for some reason, it's always your fault. Expect to have 16 year olds give you dirty looks after you ask them for I.D. And never, ever expect a halfway decent chick to walk through the door.
"Hey Danny, remember me?" No, dicksipper, I don't. "Lemme get a beer." That's one of my favorites. That's like walking up to the multiplex that has 16 movies playing and saying "I'll have 2 tickets please." Does this guy sit down at a restaurant and say "I think I'll go with the...dinner." Don't ever ask me "what's good?" Because I'll give you a shot of Goldschalggers, tobasco sauce and Fleishmann's gin. And if you ever..EVER tell me to open the door because it's too fucking SMOKEY, I will grab my 22oz aluminum little league baseball bat and proceed to smash your fucking teefasaurus' out. It's a fucking bar, you walking aneurysm, everybody smokes.
Being a bartender also means that the music you listen to will change dramatically. You'll find yourself singing "Separate Ways" and reciting verses from "Rappers Delight." Why every bar juke box is stocked with everything you'll find in the local music stores bargain bin is beyond me.
So, in conclusion if you enjoy talking to chubby holes, being asked the most trainable of questions and being paid like a grass mowing El Salvadorian, bartending just might be for you.
"Someday love will find you. Break those chains that bind you...one night will remind you how we loved and went our separate ways......weow neow...wah nah noo now...."
FoundryMusicDanny
SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: SMOKING CAUSES YOU TO PAY A RIDICULOUS AMOUNT OF MONEY FOR CIGARETTES
Posted: Friday, May 3, 2002
Of all the people to pick on. Smokers. Sure, there's kid touchers, alcoholics, people addicted to prescription medications...Rich Vos. No, the real evil is smokers.
Follow this logic. Do you like to have your mule licked? Your knob hobbed? Perhaps you like to nibble the pink lettuce. Now imagine being taxed for it. Would you say you're addicted to shucking the bearded clam? Can't stop invading the no-no spots? Imagine a world where the tax on condoms went up 50 cents every six months. Maybe the pill doubles in cost. How would you feel if you had to pay a fuck tax? Wouldn't that make you want to punch the unborn fetus of the politician who voted on that tax? Yes. And if I ever get the chance to do so, I will.
There's tons of ways for the government to make money. Lets tax tampons. Every bloody, chummy hold needs a tampon, no? I mean, hey, you could get "Toxic Shock Syndrome." That's bad isn't it? Hell, why don't we tax alcohol. Would you pay $18 for a six-pack of Bud? That shit fucks up your liver! Cirrhosis anyone? Can you comprehend the protests and outrage that continuously taxing liquor would cause?
I am addicted to cigarettes. Sure, I could quit bitching and just stop smoking. It would be a hard task to accomplish, but I suppose I could do it. On that note, I guess my girlfriend could stop ramming chunks of compressed cotton into her thatch a few times a month and just switch to pads. I guess everyone could quit buying rubbers and just not bone. The point is, it is unfair to keep punishing us smokers by taxing our butts. City needs money? Legalize pot. In my opinion, alcohol is just as bad, possibly worse than weed. Pack up joints in a crush proof box of 20 and sell it in convenience stores and gas stations all over the country, with a big sign that reads "You must be at least 21 years of age to purchase marijuana products." The money generated off weed tax alone would double that of the cigarette tax easy. Two fifty for a pack of smokes, ten bucks for a pack of joints. The city could thrive on Stinky and O.D. alone.
Why is it always the smokers who have to foot the bill every time the city needs money. "Shit, how we gonna fix all those potholes??" Raise the cigarette tax!! "We need to build another school!!" Raise the cigarette tax!! Fuck you pal. Tax something else for once to raise your stupid money. I'm paying over five fucking dollars for a pack of cigarettes. Go tax emails. Raise the subway fare again. Shit on someone else for a goddamn change.
Will I keep smoking? Well, yeah. In fact, I'm enjoying the wonderful death filled smoke of a Marlboro as I write this column. I'll just buy my cigarettes from some dirty Indians. That way, instead of the city getting some of my smoke money, they'll just get nothing at all...and like it.
FoundryMusicDanny
XevilkidX@yahoo.com
|
|
