People Who Are Much Better At doing This Than Us

I have compiled a list of people who are much better at this than US:

http://itsworthitall.blogspot.com/ - This hilarious broad is christian and doesn't have any clue that you can't fucking call something "banana chocolate chip bread without the banana or chocolate chips" blah blah something something, but get my point at least?

She also took about 100 pictures of her kids swimming. Psoriasisly? Psoriasisly.

http://ewertonpadilhafotografo.blogspot.com/ - This guy is an Amazing scat photografiater



http://schepenkrabbendijke.blogspot.com/ - and this one's for J$

A BIg day for things in the world

IMAGE STOLEN FROM Time.COM. Please don't sue me or my friends, i just want to prove a point of how tacky these fucks are.. even though this picture doesn't really prove my point. In fact, I would bang the SHIT out of this gal, and I'd let her burn my genitals slowly with that AMAZING cigar she has. And then we'd get her fur shawl real sticky, if you follow me. Don't follow? I'd jizz all over her shawl, and then I'd rub semen in with the blood from my penis burns, and make a sticky but sweet mixture, and the pour it even more into her shawl, and then we'd go out dancing and such, but i'd probably pass out, not because of pain, but because of LOVE. Love, and then I'd have a child with her, mostly to fulfill biological obligations, but also to have an heir that would someday feed me, and he'd be a rich russian megamillionaire, and hopefully at some point he'd by a soccer team, because, boy, do I love soccer.

Today, the eighth day of the eighth year of america, there has been something amazing happened:

RUSSIA invaded GEORGIA

the OLYMPICS started, overshadowing the PARAlympics yet again

The OIL bubble may be deflating (because a burst is too easily made into headlines)

So what does this mean for your evening communique?? The beauty of Russia's move was in the timing (obvioso!), because they've been planning on going in to Georgia for a while, but who really cares as long as the olympics are going on? Maybe the west, but it's too late for any sort of fun response. There's not much that can be said. This has something to do with Russia's original plans (on paper) to withdraw their soviet-era bases from the region. That couldn't have boded well for the futuristic cold war that we are soon to fight, because they need bases too, goddammit (especially if we want this one will be as fun as the last)! Yes, this has to have something to do with Russia's self interestes.

I read a book years and years and years and years ago (i.e., I never read a book) about how countries do things out of self-interest. What is russia's self-interest? Buying stuff and orgasming! And drinking! So, how does this help russia's three main self interests? By protecting themselves, making bases that say "FUCK YOUSE GUYS" against NATO's advancement (essentially, Georgia is the front line on NATO's anti-russian operations).

I told my family to leave Atlanta and head for the Stone Mountain. The protecting spirits of the dead confederate generals could and would help them, but I believe that the rocket launchers installed within R.E. Lee's eyeballs will do the trick.

WAR! This is the first war that I can remember... NOT! Gotcha! Anyone remember the War on Drugs? Or the War against AIDS and CANCER and CANKER sores! Or the War against our Libidos? What I meant to say is that this is a balls on your fists war, with a western nation versus russia. What the fuck is russia's classification? Gotcha again you STUPID fuck (and when I say "you stupid fuck," what i meant to say was: FUCK, you are much smarter than me)! They're not classifiable because they don't have class! Get it? Russia is the borscht belt of Eurasia. Not including the natives, russians are the corniest advanced peoples in the world, but they are not to blame. We should blame their lack of decent television and historic stupidity.

But no, no no!!!! Warrrrrrrr vvvvvrroroorrooooooooomm go the tanks! BOW PLAST!!

PLAST BOW!! WRREOOOMMMVMVMMVMV (this is the sound of an idling [russian] tank)!

And where did the russians get all their money to update their tanks? They do have a fine economy, a strong economy, and as long as they're making money from unfathomably beautiful deals of corruption, then everyone's cool. Except for the ones that get jailed for standing up to the government. Luckily, nobody reads this, except for maybe governments of foreign nations, so fuck russia and fuck the us because they can suck my butt all day and all butt long BUTT BUTT BUTT IN MY BUTT

I prefer russian soil in my butt, but lately i've been prescribed thai butt sticks for that extra sense of satisfaction and savoriness. The US butt sticks have gotten, eehhh, AS LIMP AS GEORGE BUSH'S PRESENCE IN OUR LIVES.

Where the fuck did georgie W go???? Do you remember a time when he was everywhere? I do, and it felt so real and alive, like we had one of those "oh i hate you but you make such sweet love" types of deals that only cool people have, and now it's just "ohhh, you can stroke me, but it's not the same oohhh... ohhhhh... it's not the same georgie!"

Condie had a real fucking pathetic article in the most recent (as in like a month ago) issue of Foreign Affairs, entitled THE NEW AMERICAN REALISM. You know what she talked about? Democratic Development. How is this the NEW american realism? Has this not been the great excuse used by the Neoconservatives for, oh, I don't know, at least a million years? Well, maybe not a million, but maybe hundreds of thousands of years.


I think I'm just bummed that the Olympic opening ceremonies went off without a hitch. There was so much anticipation! Has anyone been feeling this too (DEATHLY SILENCE FROM NOBODY, CONSIDERING NOBODY READS THISSSSSSsssssssssschhhhaaaaaa)

It's really nice to do heroin and type. I love just shooting up like 20 pounds of heroin and huffing goose paints and writing blogs, jeeeze louie Armstrong! if you just type oijoijoijoijoijoijoijoijoijoijoijoijoijoijojoijoijoijoijoijoijoijoijoij really quickly, like with your three fingers on your right hand, then you'll totally release stress.

So, a big big day. Oil is finally falling, the Euro is falling, Georgia is falling (actually, it's interesting, because I don't know if Russia has the balls to go through with a complete Georgian takeover, but they'll certianly put South Ossetia (or however you spell it) under their Irony Fist).
And the olympics are falling into a time warp, with the opening ceremonies to be aired 12 hours after they start! Talk about futurism!

No no no, scratch and sniff that, don't talk, only moan slightly for the dying georgian civilians, and how.

Kemesh's House

(continued from Girls Next Door)

A dry wind rustled the hairs below Kowter’s chin. It was thick with dust and a speck must have caught her in the eye because she stopped with her circulating and sat on the step. She sniffed a bit and upon closer inspection it appeared some of that new dirt dammed up in the gulley below her cheeks. You okay Kowter, I said. You doing okay. Good a time as any to leave her, Mib said. I agreed of course so we turned and opened the front door.

Well, there was a smell indeed. It is like rotting potatoes, Mib said, and with a pinch of salt, at that. Sure is, I said, yup. Kemesh was the queen of her coop, and in the way of a bygone besides: she had canes in the cane pot and a telephone in the hall, those being beside a four-post coat rack (never holding more than two coats, we heard, but this trip only now confirming that supposition; a lighter one for the trades and a heavier for the winters); the crimson trimming the stairway carpet was curlewed and kept, it being the first thing she would set her nephew to on his yearly upkeep, she told us; the glass chandelier (we had to flip on, and find the switch behind that winter coat) was a piece of queer pride for the house. And I realize as I blow on here that it may not be the most opportune time for me to continue to go into it.

As things unfolded we decided on a general tour, Mib and I. First floor, second floor, basement. Don’t wander out of earshot, she said, lest you find something. Lest something find me first, I thought. Lest something find you first, Mib thought, I thought. I looked at the back of her head as she sank into the dining room and took special note of the veins beneath that willowy hair. She was my Mib, and she was my very Mib.

(continued as I see fitinued)