Old ladies are dirty pigs.

*Update: July 17/08. Everyone go over to Slicksumbitch to see my guest post today!

Yes, that's correct. Old ladies are dirty pigs. So are young ladies as a matter of fact, but I really don't mind that one at all.

Now, feminazis, before you get your underarm hair in a braid, just let me explain, ok?

Part of my employment responsibilities include care of all of my County small facilities on their own wells. As such, I make the rounds to the 20+ community halls, arena's, and the like every week. My timing couldn't have been worse on the one. You see, I walked into a women's institute meeting.

Local women's institutes are a support group that's a throw back to old times when women didn't have any rights. Such as the rights to vote, to wear shoes, to speak, and to generally live a comfortable life.

Great strides were made by these women then, which is good, except I really wish that the pendulum hung in the middle now, instead of far off in the other direction that make out men to be evil and in need of horrid torture. But I digress.

You see, the women that make up these institutes are also throw backs to those times. I believe the average age was about 106. As I walked into the building, all talking stopped and all eyes were on me."Look!" one shouted. "A man!"

As I walked into the building with my basket full of tools, the front door shut behind me, of it's own accord. You know, like you see in scary ghost horror flicks. "Just here to inspect the water system" I said, moving cautiously forward. It was then I felt a sharp pain in my behind.

I looked at my bum to see a bony hand clamped with vice like strength, attached to someone who could easily have been my great grandma. A toothless maw opened, and said "hello there young man!"

I panicked. I bolted, leaving a swath of jeans in the granny's hands. I saw with dismay that she took them and put them to her face and took a deep inhale. So disgusting. I ran towards the basement door, and salvation, through a sea of reaching and grasping liver spotted hands and the sounds of decrepit cat calls.

I finally made it to the basement door, threw it open, ran inside and closed it behind me. I wedged a few concrete blocks behind it, and finally, I was safe.

I looked down at myself. Half my jeans were gone, my shirt was missing, and I was covered in scratches left by gnarled, yellowed nails. I had to get out of there!

I opened the tiny window and squeezed my way out. Looking around, I could see nobody. Freedom! I got to my feet and ran towards the car and my salvation, when the grand pooba of the grannies stepped out in front of me.
"We paid for you and you're staying!" she screeched, her hand out in a defiant stop gesture. I continued my desparate journey to the car, only to be knocked flat on my ass by an incredibly powerful 86 lb woman.

She straddled my chest, and yelled "Now get back in there and do your job! And get into costume for fucks sake!"

"I don't know what the hell your talking about lady! I'm just a County worker! All I wanted to do was check the water system!"

"You mean you're not from Chipndales exotic dancers?"

"NO!"

"Oh sorry sonny."

The old lady got off my chest and waddled back inside.

That was the bad part of the story. The good? Later that evening, I found $340.00 worth of bills had been stuffed down my undies.

I'm booked to do a women's institute show next week.

Can I see your Burgina?

When I was a youngster, sometime in the 20's, the school boards decided to introduce sex ed.

Ok, so It was introduced before me and I had it in 1990 when I was in grade 6 but still, It was a long time ago.

Anyways, people were a little more.... tight back then. And the sex education class wasn't as nearly as evolved as it is today. As such, the class was short, to the point, and left all the kids more confused than when they went in. Below is the teachings of that class.

MEN HAVE A PEANUTS AND WOMAN HAVE A BURGINA.

That's important information, because I'm about to tell you about my first sexual encounter.

You see, I was in grade seven, and was dating a girl named T. I was dating her by proxy; she wanted my friend G but G wanted nothing to do with her. So I said "How about me?" and we were boyfriend and girlfriend. Dating was so much simpler back then.

We were both very young. She didn't even have boobs yet. Hell, none of the girls had boobs yet, unlike nowadays when you can go to Wal*Mart and purchase special training bra's for toddlers. Yes, it's ridiculous. There's a school three houses down from me and from the distance I mistook the grade eight graduation for a parade of strippers. Nuff said.

Anyways, T and I were alone, in a house, no parents around. We were fooling around and I asked if I could see her burgina. She dropped her pants. Huh, interesting. She asked if she could see my peanuts. So I dropped my pants. Huh, interesting. She then asked if she could touch my peanuts.

Folks, I'm sure you all know that peanuts, as in the nut, come in a shell and you all know what you have to do to get them out.

The loving fondle I was looking for was more like a SMASH!

And the resulting lawsuit had the school revise it's policy on sex ed to be way less stuffy.

My pain is your children's gain.

Your welcome.

============

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Rejection Letter! Huzzah! -and- the poop that wouldn't come.

I got my second rejection letter from the Funny Times. That makes me very, very happy. It makes me happy for two reasons:

1. Their standard turnaround time is months. I got the rejection letter in only 14 days - accounting for travel time they reviewed and responded to my submission within days.
2. This was a standard rejection letter, but with a personal scribble attached. It said, "Mike, enough about the body functions already!"

This leads me to believe I actually have a modicum of talent with a poor taste in subject matter. Most of what I have submitted is reworked articles from this blog. So, in order to get my creative juices flowing in a manner that does not involve poo, puke, enema's, urine, farting, etc, from this point forward my blog entries will not involve any of those things, for the next little while anyways.

Except for today's entry. Enjoy.

====================================

This weekend was a bachelor party. It wasn't any old bachelor party, I was the best man for this wedding. So basically, it was my bachelor party. And my bachelor party lasted for twenty hours.

I'm still freaking tired. I'm thirty, not eighteen. That kind of shit takes it's toll on this old man.

Something awful happened the morning of. Something terrible, so terrible it scared me and made me realize my own mortality.

I couldn't poop.

This scared me. For the thirty years I've been on this planet, I've had many, many problems, but pooping was never one of them. I could wang one out with minimal fanfare and maximum force. I could poop on command even, which made me real popular with my punk ass friends as a teenager. No more stale, hard dog poop for those fiery paper bags - nope, we had some fresh, goopy, stinky stuff to make even the bravest of feet cringe.

I've trained myself to go first thing in the morning. It's best that way - get it done, out of the way, and right before my shower to do an easy and proper clean up. The call of nature comes loudly usually halfway through my Cheerios.

Yes, I put the cereal down. I don't eat and poo. That's just wrong, even for me.

So when I woke up at my buddies place the morning of the bachelors party, I had to go.

But it just wouldn't come.

This confused me, because my body was telling me I needed to poop, but it wouldn't let any come out.

On our way to the golf course, we stopped in for breakfast at a local restaurant. Halfway through my pancakes, the urge came again, strong and loud like it usually does. I dashed to the restroom, only to return disappointed.

We golfed a good game, and despite having golfed only once in my life a decade before, I got par on the 8th hole. If that sounds good to you, realize that this 9 hole course was 29 par and I scored 66. Pathetic, but hey, it was fun. Except for I had to poo.

The next stop was down town Toronto for lunch and sake and beer and sake and beer and sushi and sake and beer and beer and beer and sake at a sushi place. Our favorite sushi place. Really nice decorum, classy, and most importantly staffed with cute Japanese waitresses.

Our waitress looked to be about 25 years old, 5 foot 1 and weighing about 36 pounds. What we'd call a "spinner". You boys will understand. Our first two shots of sake and a bowl of miso soup later, and the 'ol bowels began to complain. I excused myself to an astonished "jesus! not again!", and returned a very sad man to the table.

At this point I was contemplating the hospital. This never, ever happened before in the span of 30 years, and I was very careful. That hole has been exit only for as long as I can remember. I've never even had my prostate checked!

Another bowl of miso soup and another sake, and our waitress brought our first course of sushi. Three pieces of raw fish later, and the stomach was rumbling. A fourth, and the rumbling increased in intensity, registering on the Richter scale. Made for T.V. producers hovered around taking notes for a shitty sci fi disaster flick, while the rumbling sent our 36 lb waitress flying across the room. She looked at me wide eyed, and I swear she screamed Godzilla!
I ran to the washroom to the jeers of my already drunken buddies, but in apparent desperate need.

Sitting on the can, to the horrible pains of I gotta poo now, and wouldn't you know it, nothing happened. But I wasn't about to give up yet. I grunted, strained, pushed, pooped a blood vessel or two, and then it happened:

My intestines had decided to compact my poo until it became plutonium. And I destroyed my favorite Japanese restaurant.

I stepped out from the rubble, to find my 36 lb Japaneses waitress under a roof truss. I lifted the roof truss off of her, and she screamed "What do you want Godzilla! What do you want!"

"Some sushi and maybe more sake" I replied, sending her off to what was left of the kitchen.

The rest of lunch was fantastic, and I did leave our poor waitress a very generous 20% tip for the trouble. I hoped that covered the damages.

I hope I never go through that again, but if I do, I'm selling my ass to the American army for millions.

==================

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Poo

Stick Titties

Spazoid is at a friends house, watching T.V. One of those inane commercials comes on for tampons or some such, featuring a stick drawing of a woman.

Several minutes go by.

Spazoid: Remember that stupid tampon commercial with the stick woman?
Friend: Yea?
Spazoid: She didn't have any titties.
Friend: Right.

Several more minutes go by.

Spazoid: What exactly would stick titties look like?

Friend puts hands to chest with index fingers sticking out.

Spazoid: Ah.

Several more minutes go by.

Spazoid: Ok then, what would stick NIPPLES look like?

Several years go by. The laughter hasn't yet stopped.

===========

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You want to look away - but can't.

Have you ever seen something that you just shouldn't be looking at? Something so aweful, so terrible and horrible that you shouldn't be seeing it but you cannot look away?

Like a car crash, or train wreck, or Cher?

That happened to me this weekend.

I was over at a friends house for the fights. During a break, we ended up checking out some video's he had on his laptop - it was actually from a backup file he created from his brother in law's computer.

Some of the videos were funny, some were stupid. Then we saw it.

Yes, IT.

This video was so horrid, so aweful, it was created by Satan to drive us mere mortals mad.

The first time around we didn't know what to do. So we laughed. It started off as a titter, than a giggle, than a laugh, and then a full out tear streaming, belly clutching laugh off.

But it didn't stop. It couldn't stop. He wouldn't let it stop.

I was sitting in my seat on the other side of the room. I heard the click of a mouse, the shuffle of a moving body, the ominous music starting up. I knew what it was, but I looked anyways. It was like I was compelled to look by some unseen force, even though I didn't want to.

I managed to look away. The laptop moved closer, into my field of vision. I put a hand up on one side of my face. The laptop was moved closer yet. I put another hand up, and so on.

Eventually, the laptop ended up right in front of the T.V., with this horrid, disgusting, vile video playing on repeat.

Seeing it again, I think it is the most mentally destructive, most terrifying video ever produced by the minds of man.

I've included it below. Please, if you have a weak stomach or are faint of heart, don't look, turn away now.




So, who thinks the guy is dead?

=============

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plumbERbutt(tm)

Are you a new plumber? Just finishing your apprenticeship, and striking out on your own? If you are, you're probably wondering what it takes to be a sucessful plumber. Training, expertise, hard work, experience? The answer to all of those is yes, of course you need them. But there's one thing that plumbers are known for, one thing that defines a plumber and gives the public the perception he's good.

That one thing is plumbers butt.

To be perceived as a real plumber, you need ass cleavage sticking out of the back of your jeans. Without a plumbers butt, you are likely to be passed over job after job, no matter how good you really are.

Before you go gorging your face with jelly doughnuts, red meat and beer, I strongly urge you to consider the fabulous new product, plumbERbutt(tm). PlumbERbutt(tm) is a revolutionary prostetic that you apply to your backside that ensures that all important plumber butt cleavage. This product is available in many skin tones to match your own, and it's so real looking you'd have to be a scientist to tell the difference!

But don't take my word for it, just hear what some of our satisfied customers have to say!


Before plumbERbutt(tm), I was never called back for repeat business. With plumbERbutt(tm), I've built up a base of loyal customers who intentionally break their plumbing to get me back!

-Joe Magiola
New York

Digging the pencils out of my plumbERbutt(tm) is well worth the 300% increase in business!

-Dwayne Chetely
Ohio

Not only did business pick up to the tune of a 240% increase last year alone, my wife has NEVER found me so attractive! Thank you plumbERbutt(tm)!

-James Bichoni
Rhode Island

Don't be left behind! Order plumbERbutt(tm) today, and get a second one for 50%! Order now!

=======
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To a man, from his Junk

Hey there Buddy,

It's been great hanging with you all these years, through thick and thin, with all of its ups and downs.

I don't want to sound like a whiner, but I do have a few things I'd like to ask of you. Firstly, I'd like to get to the underwear.

Boxers are fantastic. They're roomy, airy, and those hairy twins that live under me don't get sweaty and slimy. I hate it when they're slimy; how would you like resting on a booger couch? The only thing I ask - no, insist upon, is you wear the boxers that have a button on the pee flap. I am seriously tired of flopping out and having to dodge the zipper on your pants, ok?

Tighty whities are an absolute no no. The twins get sweaty, and I'm pressed right up against them. One of them has some serious halitosis. It's not fun.

Speaking of halitosis, if you ever, EVER wear a thong again, I'm going to throttle you! I'll go on strike and never work again. The damned thing forces me past the twins to be pretty much face to face with some sort of brown hole. I have no idea what it is, only that it smells like manure and occasionally blows some nasty wind in my face. You're lucky I haven't yet puked.

Puking is the second thing I wanted to talk to you about. You know that girl you picked up last week, the one with a yest infection? She did NOT taste like freshly baked bread like you promised. I had to up chuck the minute I got in there. I did however enjoy her sarcastic disappointment, as well as the screaming to have you drive her to the doctor RIGHT THIS MINUTE for something called a morning after pill. I don't know what a morning after pill is, and besides, it wasn't even close to morning. Women are so silly.

So why exactly is it you force me to puke so often? If its not in some womens stink hole, you choke me until I barf. Every single day too(though the latter is more common than the former). Why are you forcing bulimia on me and then complain I'm not fat enough? Start making some damned sense!

When it's cold, I shrink. That's how I deal with cold. Get used to it. Also, water is generally cold. I'm just letting you know that, because you have this rather large and ill fitting pair of swimming trunks. If they are to fall off I'll get called 'peewee' or 'acorn' and that will damage both of our egos.

My final complaint is in regards to your drinking. I get sick and tired of listening to your alcohol induced crap, so I just go to sleep. I know that doesn't help you with last call women, so ease up on the beer, ok? Also, because I go to bed so early, I'm up bright and early the next morning. I hope you enjoy our wrestling matches in the bathroom.

I think that's everything I wanted to say. Lets chat about this sometime, shall we?

-Your Pal,
The Penis

Hey Schmuck

Listen buddy, that guy that rests on us most of the day? He's a real DICK! Do something about his attitude or we'll stick to your thighs and make you SUPER uncomfortable, ok?

-All the best
The ball brothers

=========

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Things that shouldn't be

Many, if not every human being has a list of things that is a personal affront to them. Things that disgust them, things that just shouldn't be.

Today, I'd like to share with you my shortlist of things that shouldn't be.

1. Man boobies.
I'm not talking about the normal fat guy or the guy that's out of shape, I'm talking about full fledged man boobies. The giant sacks of fat that should only be bestowed upon women. I'm talking the true freaks of nature. And they exist. Perhaps its the hormones in beef, or maybe these guys are hermaphrodites. I don't know, but what I do know, is that man boobies shouldn't be.

2. The unibrow.It's eye brows, SSSSS, with a plural! If you only have one eyebrow, get that shit in the middle plucked. That's just disturbing. Unibrows just shouldn't be.

3. Weight Lifter Chicks.
Do these women honestly think that having bigger biceps than Mr. T is attractive? That having no boobies is hot? That being the one in the relationship to open the jars and kill the spiders makes the man happy? Women should look like women. Men should look like men. Frig, most MEN don't have the kind of muscle these weight lifter chicks have! I don't know about any of you, but when I'm feeling up a women I want to feel soft curves, not hard rippling muscles. In retrospect, these "ladies" aren't going to get beaten by abusive men, but come on. A tazer will do the same thing and is cheaper. Weight lifter chicks just shouldn't be.

4. Moose Knuckles.Everyone knows camel toe. Camel toe can sometimes be ugly, or attractive, depending on the woman. What we're talking about today is camel toes bigger sister, moose knuckle. There is absolutely NO redeeming feature about moose knuckle, which is why it just shouldn't be.

5. Front ass.

Asses are for the back. Seriously. If you start to grow an ass in the front, it's time to cut back baby. The good part? Because these things cover the reproductive organs, theres a good chance she won't physically be able to reproduce to make more little freaks with two asses.

Asses are for the back, not for the front, which is why front ass just shouldn't be.

6. Transvestites.

Men should be men, and women should be women. That's it, that's all. If you feel you're a woman trapped in a man's body, see a shrink, or get the surgery. Otherwise, just shut up and accept that your ding dong is whats been given to you, and work with it. If you still feel like a woman, then make sure you're the catcher, not the pitcher in your homosexual relationships.

Men are not women, and that's why transvestites just shouldn't be.

7. Chicks in tight jeans.
Yea, I know what you're thinking. "But Spazoid! Chicks in tight jeans are hot (providing they don't have a front ass). Even the picture you have is of a hot chick!" Yea, I know. They ARE hot! Well, they LOOK hot. A funny thing happens when women wear really tight jeans. Their cooch can't breathe. Yes, I've done the research. What happens is, all of the oxygen loving bacteria, that DO NOT smell, die. Once gone, all of the bacteria that don't need oxygen move into the space formerly occupied by the good bacteria. These bacteria STINK. If a girl is in the habit of wearing tighty tight jeans, and they come off, the smell is enough to make a dog faint.

While hot chicks in tight jeans are nice to look at, they smell worse than fermented poo, which is why it just shouldn't be.

I hope you've enjoyed my shouldn't be short list. Feel free to make your own.

===========
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Those pervert google keywords

Once again, I've delved into my google analytics account, and dredged through some of the keyword combinations that make it to my blog.

Folks, there are some very, very disturbed and perverted folks out there. Seriously disturbed and perverted.

So, for your reading pleasure, I've decided to share with you my top ten perverted google keywords that make it to my blog! In no particular order:

1.Anal Probing Female

This guy is pretty much completely sexually confused. He likes it up the arse like a gay guy would but he wants a woman to do it. I'm just assuming it's a man.... if its a woman, she's equally confused. Here's a tip: canvass the U.S./American border. Take note of the duty roster for those who do strip searches. When it's a female on duty, drive to the border with tan, beard, turban, smoking a joint while screaming AAEEIIIIII LALALALALALLALA! I guarantee you'll get anally probed.

2.Coffee Bean in Poo

I'm pretty sure that this is coming from fecal Japan. Enuff said.

3.Colon Hydrotherapy Deaths

If you're so convinced that you're going to die from having water squirted up your bum to research it, then you really, really shouldn't go. Remember the Spazoid advice: That hole is exit only.

4.Space Poo

Yup, it floats.

5.fat belly & body type & arrestable

I didn't realize having a particular body type is an arrestable offence. I bet anyone here 10 bucks that the guy who did this search is an owner of an all you can eat buffet.

6.Some people think I'm a beaver

Put down the stick, cut off the tail, and shave your body.

7.Anal probing in babies

I hope to HELL that this is some curious space aliens. If not, somebody call the cops.

8.Benefits of cunt licking

Well, big fella, there's lots. She'll stop nagging for a while. She'll cook you dinner. She'll do your laundry. She might even reciprocate! What I'm saying is, lick like you've never licked before and you just can't go wrong. Never mind the aftertaste. You'll get used to it.

9.Coffee up the bum

Wrong orifice, IDIOT!

10. Cool kids fags

Yea, I said this all throughout high school. Yea, that's ok. The cool kids are a bunch of fags anyways!

BONUS KEYWORDS

11. First fag why does my throat hurt

I'm not particularly experienced in this department, but I've discussed the semantics with a female co worker. She says you're taking too much, just ease back a bit, big fella.

There's lots and lots more. LOTS! And they get WORSE. I can't wait to share them with you.

Until then -

========

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I think I threw up a little in my mouth.

As we go threw life, we encounter many, many things that really, really gross us out. I would like to share with you all one such instance.

It was about ten years ago, and I was sharing a place with a couple of other people. One of them was in my program in college, named R. He had a girlfriend, name E. E was over six feet tall, really big boned, and as quiet as a howler monkey. With her size and graces, and thirty or forty pounds of nappy brown hair, she was as close to a female wookie as you can get. As a matter of fact, I happen to have her family photo to share with you all. That's her, front row center.Both of them were really gross people. R had a skin tag on his side the size of a Volkswagon, and she often announced how she liked to chew on it during sex. Gross.

One Friday, I was heading out the door to visit my folks for the weekend. I said my goodbyes to R and E, and headed out the door. I got to the end of the road and cursed myself for forgetting to bring the hockeybag full of dirty laundry that I (by I meaning my mom) was going to do over the weekend. I turned around, parked the car, and let myself into the apartment.

I walked up the stairs, and there, straight in front of me, was E, with one leg up on a chair, inserting a giant tampon into her large dank vagina.

When I say large vagina, I mean big. Below, you will find an artists rendition of her fun hole:

And by large tampon (and here I thought they were all one size), she was inserting one of these monstrosities:I screamed.

She screamed.

I screamed.

She screamed and slammed the bedroom door.

I threw up a little and fell onto the floor into convulsions, clawing at my eyes. The horrid horrid image still haunts me to this day. It was easily the grossest thing I've seen, so gross it put me off vagina for MONTHS.

I hope I didn't ruin your lunch.

-Spazoid.

========

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Primates Rule!

C.Rag doesn't like primates in any form. I don't understand what's the matter with her.

Seriously.

Monkeys are FUNNY. They do all the things that retarded people do that we find funny. The difference is, IT'S OK FOR US TO LAUGH AT THEM.

Like, when I see a retarded person stick his finger in the dirt, his ear, his nose, his dirty un-wiped bum, and then his mouth, I laugh. Well, except I keep it on the D/L because I'm afraid a group of fat crusading mothers with no rational thought and nothing better to do will beat me to a bloody pulp and sue me after I get out of the hospital for causing emotional distress. And win.

But go to the zoo and see a monkey beating off or throwing poo at another monkey, laugh away! People will join you!

Really, how can a monkey NOT be funny?



==========

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Happy Easter!

Happy Easter Sunday everybody!

Boy, was I ever given a HUGE treat this morning. I went out to my backyard, and there he was, the easter bunny, laying me some mini chocolate eggs, right on my property! I couldn't believe it! So I snapped a picture.

I was so excited, that I tried one right away!

They weren't as good as the ones you buy from the store. Not nearly as good. As a matter of fact, they tasted like ASS! I figured this was the easter bunnies way of punking me because I'm not christian. So I let my dog outside.

This is what's left of that damned bunny!

I apologize for ruining Easter this year and years to come. If theres a bright side to this story, I don't have to feed my dog today. She's already eaten!

Happy Easter all!

===========

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Barnyard Brawl: The Barnyard Retard

Yes, it is time for another episode of the Barnyard Brawl! For those who have not read my previous two episodes, the story revolves around a group of hapless farm animals, loosely based on some animals on a friends farm . These social misfits represent the dregs of our human society, complete with a hedonism complex and sever personality disorders. If you have not already, I would strongly encourage you to read part one here and part two here. Trust me, it would make much more sense, but you'll still try to have me committed for even thinking of this literary abortion.

=======

When last we left our animal friends, Dicky the pig fucking horse had just died. The weird noisy hairless animals had replaced him with a young stallion, which Beatrice the horny cow found out was a gelding. The hard way. When he would not (or could not) have sex with her.

Cow: Well come on you nutless wonder. Let's go meet the others.
Horse: I thought we were going to get our hooves done?
Sheep #1: Hi new horse, you dickless faggot!
Cow: That's Ed. He's an asshole.
Horse: I like assholes!
Sheep#1: Hey cow! Maybe if you strapped a log to your udders homo over there would pound your cinnamon ring!
Horse: You mean .... I thought those green tasty things that grow on trees were called assholes?
Sheep#1: Man, we got a sharp one here. He's almost as stupid as retard!
Horse: Who's retard?
Sheep #1: Oh, it's my idiot brother. All he can say is
Sheep #2: (from behind horse) BAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Horse: (gets startled and kicks sheep in the head) Oh no! Oh no oh no oh no! I'm so sorry! Are you ok?
Sheep #2: (shakes head) Oh my, thank you! You seemed to have cured my speech impediment!
Sheep #1: Holey Shit! Did you just talk?
Sheep #2: My dear ungulate! Of course I could talk! I was born with a brain defect that stunted my speech. It did not, however, stunt my intellectual growth.
Cow: Uh?
Sheep #1: Well I'll be damned! You're not a retard!
Sheep #2: To the contrary. While you and your cohorts have been lazing around, chewing your cud and humping each other, I've been looking, listening, and most importantly, learning.
Sheep #1: I didn't ask for the fucking speech, professor ugly!
Sheep #2: I expect such a response from a mouth breathing slime bucket such as yourself. Now listen closely, because I'm about to get us everything we always wanted.
Cow: Balls for Mr. Effeminate over there?
Horse: Like I had a choice in the matter! And your horns clash with your bell, and your bell clashes with your fat ass!
Cow: Shut up!
Sheep #2: Listen! Those funny hairless animals with all the power - I've learned to speak their language. And we're going to hold them ransom.
Cow: How?
Sheep #2: You know how they milk you every day?
Cow: How could I forget? The titty massage makes my bovine ass quiver!
Sheep #2: They use the milk for food. And they use the chicken eggs for food too. Every morning before sunrise, I'll show you how to get into the coop and destroy the eggs. And I'll suck you dry of milk so there is nothing left for them.
Cow: Medium pressure, no teeth, gently tongue in a COUNTER clockwise motion. Got it?
Sheep #2: Yes my dear I shall do it with pleasure. When the humans wonder whats going on, we'll tell them, and I'll tell them they'll starve unless our demands are met.
Cow: What are our demands?
Sheep #2: Whatever we want!
Horse: A pink ribbon for my hair!
Cow: Sex with a real horse!
Sheep #1: Cow miserable!
Cow: Hey! Ass!
Sheep #2: And Beatrice, there's something I've always wanted to tell you, something I couldn't until now, and I'll burst unless I tell you!
Cow: What is it?
Sheep #2: Your beauty, your grace, are no equal. Your eyes swim like a thousand oceans, your body is that of a goddess, your scent a divine gift from the gods.
Cow: Swoon!
Sheep #2: Beatrice, I must tell you that I Lo....

Sheep#1 kicks Sheep #2 in the head

Sheep #2: BAAAAAAAA BABAA BAAAAAAAAAAA!
Cow: ED! WHAT THE FUCK!
Sheep #1: Blah blah blah! All he did was talk! I solved that problem didn't I!
Cow: I fucking hate you, Ed.

===========

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Things I notice

More fodder for perverted google searches!

Smelly, stinky, disgusting, juicy, squishy, raunchy, ELEPHANT ANAL ORAL!

One of my COW WORKERS saw that and he became excited. This is what happened.

Spazoid: What in the hell are you doing?
COW WORKER: ELEPHANT SEX! DAAAAAAAARRGH! ME WANT ELEPHANT SEX!
Spazoid: Huh?
COW WORKER: I WANT DAT ELEPHANT TO PUT HIS TRUNK IN MY BUM!

Spazoid tries to explain that it's just a funny picture of two paperweights.

COW WORKER: NOOOO! I LIKE BIG THINGS IN MY BUM! DAARGH!
Spazoid: Shhh! Keep your voice down or your mom will come and take you home again!
COW WORKER: i like big things in my bum!
Spazoid: If you forget about it I'll get you an apple juice! Who wants an apple juice!
COW WORKER: NO NO NO NO NO!
COW WORKER: I just made poopie! In my pants!
Spazoid: Ok, how about we call your receptionist to clean you up and get an ice cream? Would you like that?
COW WORKER: DAAAAARGH! ICE KWEEM! DAAARGH!
Spazoid: Oh, Lucy! Clean up on isle one!

Hard to find good management these days, isn't it?

*Note: Told you I was a self indulgent ass, didn't I?

===============

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My Superpower
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For all the disgusting google perverts that make it to my site.

Loud, raunchy, sticky, disgusting, perverted, ELEPHANT SEX!

That's HOT!

=========

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The advice of Mr. Spazoid

Contrary to popular belief, I was not hatched, and neither was I brought about by mitosis (could you imagine me, breeding like bacteria? I'd consume the world in weeks!). What this means, ladies and gentlemen, is I have parents.

My father, MR. Spazoid SIR, is like any father in this world. He has gained wisdom from experience and likes to share it with his son, so that his progeny may benefit from his years of learning.

I'd like to share some of his wisdom with you, my readers. No doubt, you have fathers of your own and like any good father, you would have heard some of this before. But for those who haven't, or who don't have fathers, I hope that some of his pearls of wisdom will benefit you greatly. I know they've helped me through some of my hardest times.

High Speed Nose Picking:
When a boogie needs to be picked, it does not wait for the appropriate time. No matter where you are, or what you are doing, it will rear its gooey head and will be come more and more annoying until you MUST dig for that sticky, stringy gold. Driving your car on the highways at high speeds is no exception. After years of practice, he has found that the best way is to take the pinky finger of the hand opposite to the nostril that needs to be picked, and dig around. This provides the optimal angle of entry and highest level of dexterity to get that snot out of there with the least amount of time. Try it, you'll be amazed!

There's only one square of toilet paper left:
And you've already dropped the kids off at the pool. Not to worry! Take that square of toilet paper, and fold it in half. Fold it in half again. Where the joints meet, tear off a small square, and keep it, you'll need it for later. Unfold the paper and you'll notice that there is a hole in the middle. Put your index finger through that hole, and use the finger to clean the clingons off of your brown eyed hairy cyclops. Then, cup your thumb and index finger around your brown index finger below the square of TP. Using a semi circular motion, move that square up your finger until the bulk of the brown stuff has been cleaned off. Remember the little square you removed? Use it to clean under your finger nail! And problem solved.

The ultimate measure of a restaurant:
Is it's bathroom. If it doesn't have a clean, efficient, and aesthetically pleasing bathroom, chances are the food sucks. A shitty bathroom means a lack of effort in every other area. Don't believe me? Try it.

If you ever get married:
Learn the words "yes, dear." You'll need them.

An addendum to the above:
Whats yours is hers. Whats hers is hers. Get used to it.

It's not being cruel and judgmental:
If they can't hear you make fun of them. If it's not hurting their feelings and you're getting a laugh out of it, it's a 100% positive experience! And how could you not, with so many douchebags running around?

If you have to go for a colonoscopy:
They'll give you a drink to clean you out. An hour after you take it, you'll feel a twinge. This twinge will feel like a "Yea, I should find a toilet soon." However, what THIS particular twinge really means is "Find a toilet NOW, or make sure you know where the mop is." After bathroom trip #23 or so, you'll be pissing clear out of your bum and you'll know it's almost over.

After you go for a colonoscopy:
You're going to have some WICKED farts. Make the most of them!

By far, the one piece of advice he's given me has stuck with me the most. "Make the very last cheque you write bounce."

You can't take it with you, so what's the point in dying rich? At the same point, don't be an idiot about your money. Live to your means, make sure you can retire in comfort, and whatever you do, have fun before AND after you retire.

That is some fantastic advice, and I'm taking it to heart. But since I know I'm not getting an inheritance, I have no qualms about teasing him mercilessly. Like father like son, and he throws them right back at me just as hard as I do to him.

I'd like to close this off by leaving you with this thought, which teenagers and people in their early 20's should especially take to heart. Your parents have done more for you than you can ever imagine. Treat them with the respect they so sorely deserve.

=========

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Unidentified Flying Anus

The other night, I was watching a show on the Space channel. It was all about people who claim to have been abducted by Aliens. The stories were amazingly consistent - because there were only four people interviewed (I'm sure the show edited out all the inconsistencies for better ratings). One of the things that the abductees claimed the aliens did was all sorts of probing, including ANAL probing.

What, exactly, can you learn from anal probing?

This is why I'm convinced that if this is true, it's a giant, interstellar practical joke that one species of aliens are playing on another.

Here's how I think it would go.

Alien #1 - Kaptardj, I just snatched another batch. Get the lower orifice probe ready, would you?
Alien #2 - Snardikjas, I don't know. We've been probing the lower orifice of these humans for years now, and all we've found is some stinky brown stuff - EVERY TIME.
Alien #1 - I know it seems like a lot of work, but the Chartulans from the Omacron Gamma system tell us that one in every 2 million humans produces dark matter from it's lower orifice. Can you imagine! A renewable source of fuel for our ship, all for free!
Alien #2 - Praise Jesus!
Alien #1 - What the heck is a Jesus?
Alien #2 - I'm not sure. I was probing a female human, and she gave me this pamphlet and started talking about some sort of Jesus fellow. She told me she was something called a 'Jehova's Witness".
Alien #1 - And then what happened?
Alien #2 - She told me to probe deeper, harder and faster.
Alien #1 - Hmmm, I see. Well anyways, lets get to work. We've only probed 1 million humans thus far, but we're getting close, I can taste it!
Alien #2 - On it, boss!
Alien #1 - Kaptardj, the LOWER orifice, you retard!
Alien #2 - *POP!*, sorry boss!

According to these abductees, one of the things that the aliens were trying to do was to make a human/alien cross breed. For some reason, the aliens told them once perfected, they were going to introduce them into the human population for some reason. They are described as tiny little things with huge, bulbous heads. You know what? I think they are here already! Have a look!

============

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Bathroom Etiquette

Etiquette is a human condition caused by societal morals. There are proper etiquettes that are universal among humans, such as respecting someones space, and there are local etiquettes, such as which hand to take change with.

Today, I'd like to talk about bathroom etiquette.

In the Men's Room

Hopefully, the ladies will learn something valuable, and those pushy, immoral men will too. For the ladies, men's room have these things called urinals. It's kind of like a porcelain shelf in the wall that men pee into. Think of a vase with a drain, right?

Proper etiquette means that as men, you must choose the correct urinal. If there are three urinals and all are empty, you must choose one to the extreme left, or extreme right, whichever one is closest to the door. If you choose the one farthest away from the door, that might mean that you enjoy being in a room with naked penis's expelling waste, which no man wants on his conscience.

Also, you can NOT take one in the middle. This will force another man who is coming into the bathroom to take a urinal right beside you. This is considered gay. Even if you are gay, it's in poor taste. Even if he is also gay, he might have a lover. See how this works?

For those going into the bathroom, never, ever take a urinal beside one thats occupied if you can possibly help it. If there are five urinals and urinals #2 and #4 are empty, use a stall. You may ONLY use a urinal directly beside an occupied urinal if all the stalls are taken as well. This is not considered gay, because you have no other choice in the matter.

Using more than a nod or a grunt to awknoledge another urinal users presence will be considered gay. The only exception to this is if you know the guy, but you still can't look at him. Look straight ahead, at the wall, at all times. If you try to look anywhere else, it'll be considered trying to look at a naked man wiggly and that's just gay.

In the Ladies Room

Honestly, I don't have a frigging clue what kind of etiquette goes on in a ladies room. I do know that ladies never go alone. They go with their friend, or in herds. If men did that, that would be considered gay and in bad taste. Anything that might make a man be considered gay in bad taste. It's not correct, it's not rational, but that's what makes men, men. I digress.

I imagine that women cannot go pee alone in a public rest room because it takes more than one woman to perform the necessary bodily function. I can very easily imagine women being germaphobes and not wanting to touch the toilet bowl with any part of their anatomy. That's fair enough, I guess. How do I think this is done, you ask? I'll tell you.

It takes three woman to perform this task. The woman needing to use the toilet attaches strings to her skirt. She then throws them over the side of the stall, where the skirt lifter is waiting. The skirt lifter tugs on the strings, exposing the womans buttocks and poon tang so she doesn't get anything wet. Then, she extends her arms and her friend, the spotter, takes hold. They go toe to toe, and the spotter slowly lowers the girl so that her bum is just hovering over the toilet, but not touching it. The woman does her business, the spotter lifts her up, and the skirt lifter lowers the skirt. This process is repeated until all women have evacuated themselves.

This also explains why it takes women so damned long to use the restroom.

Others

You might be saying, "but spazoid, there is no other restrooms other than ladies and mens!" You'd be right in telling me that. But in todays society of loosely defined genders, there should be.

Take transvestites for example. There are many different kinds. Pre-Op, Post-Op, men that are almost ladies, and yes, ladies that are almost men. What room should they use, and what sort of etiquette should apply?

Spazoid is normally a rather tolerant man, so he will say this: If you have a penis, but you look like a lady, use a bush outside you freak.

You ladies can deal with the rest of them. Or until you explain to me the rules of ladies bathroom etiquette.
==============

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The commandments of SpazoGod!

My very funny friend, Mental Poo, thought it would be a neat idea to come up with his own, personalized brand of the ten commandments. He only came up with five, before deferring to a higher authority, his wife.

But before he gave the reigns to his boss, he set out an offer to let us lowly peons pretend like we're god and come up with our own ten commandments. Since there is no Mrs. Spazoid to defer to, I'll be coming up with all TEN of my commandments myself! Some will be serious, and some will not be serious. If you can't tell which ones are serious and which ones aren't, then you need to pay attention to my first commandment:

1.Thou shalt recognize ones own stupidity!
That's right. Understand that most of today's population are gibbering retards. I attribute that half to herd mentality, and half to thinking yourselves utter geniuses. Guess what? You're not a braniac. Neither am I. Do you understand what a median is? An average? No? Then look it up. When you think you're smart, you don't bother to listen to anyone else's point of view because you're already convinced of your own superiority. True genius is few and far between, and so is true stupidity. So wake up, sit up straight, pay attention, keep an open mind, and weight things out in your head with ration and logic. Most importantly, you don't know everything. Remember that. Also remember that you can find out, or ask somebody else. Pretending you do know it all makes you STUPID!
2. Thou females have Boobies! Thou shalt show them off!
Ladies, your breasts are pretty and special. Don't hide them behind baggy sweaters! If you are younger than 40, you shall wear push up bra's and low cut tops. Your other option is to not wear shirts or bras at all. If you have ugly boobs, such as ones that hang around your knees from years of use and abuse, I shall use my magic god powers to tone and lift so you may show them off to your hearts content.

3.When thou sees and advanced green, thou shalt immediately push hard on the accelerator
Listen fucktards. In an advanced green light, four or five cars should be able to get through. Why is it that there's always a tard in front that doesn't notice for five seconds, then makes the turn like he's got a bomb strapped to the tank that'll go off if he exceeds my grandmothers walking pace? If you do NOT get on the frigging gas, SpazoGod will give you an case of herpes with a permanent flare up. Got it?

4.Thou Shalt not drive if you're over 70, or an oriental woman
I don't think I have to go into detail on this one. Suffice it to say, SpazoGod will also guarantee these people with a permanent herpes flare up.

5.Thou Shalt understand that ALL religions are moot.
I'm guessing me being god would render all religions moot. You know why? Because I'm GOD and I say so! Really though, there is just as much evidence for Jesus as there is for Zeus. So if you really want to believe in that stuff, fine, but you also have to remember everyone else is just as correct as you are. If you don't want to understand that, fine by me. I'll just give women testicles with perma ball itch and men permanent periods. I guarantee within a month of that constant agonizing torture, you'll smarten the fuck up. That'll also stop a lot of the bullshit violence started by the fundamentalist fanatical religious right, and put an end to much death and torture.

6. Thou shalt cease all religious evangelical missions.
See commandment number five. Remember, all religions are moot, meaning your religion is as correct as every other one. If you actively pursue converting people of other religions, that will be considered badgering and Spazogod will make you 300 lbs overweight with permanent foul body odour. You may accept people into your religion, but only if they seek you out. Meaning, you may make TASTEFUL advertisements. If Spazogod thinks your advertisements are distasteful, such as references to people of other religions going to hell, he'll make you eat the avert. Without any spices.

7. Thou shalt find all poo based humour funny as hell, and never tire of it.
Because Spazogod does.

8. Thy females shall talk to each other only ONE AT A TIME
Girls, you don't understand exactly how annoying you are when you chatter in groups. You are insulted when men cluck like chickens at you! You don't understand just WHAT that's all about! Well, I'm going to tell you. When men talk, one man go's, then shuts up and lets another man talk. This is called "sharing". When women talk, they talk ALL AT FUCKING ONCE. A man cannot then actually differentiate the sounds that are being made as language, and therefor his brain interprets it as chicken clucking. Moreover, it is very loud, grating and annoying. Think of being strapped to a jet airplane doing mach two, and you'll understand what this sounds like to men's ears. To that end, just four women talking sounds like a sold out Spinal Tap concert in the 80's. Women, if you do not take turns in conversing, Spazogod will switch your vagina's with your mouths. Try talking through your jeans! And won't meal time be fun time? Gives a whole new definition to blow job, doesn't it. Don't believe I'll do it? Try me.

9. Thou shalt make farting an Olympic competition.
See commandment seven, but with a twist. Any variation of competitiveness shall be allowed. Who has the stinkiest? Who has the loudest? Who can break glass? How far does the flame travel? ANYTHING GOES!

10. Thou shalt understand the big picture.
Rabid feminists, environmentalist, and your basic narrow sighted whack job WILL start seeing the big picture. You know, why it's bad if the pendulum is pulled too far one way, what equality actually means, and that everybody is capable of racism, stereotyping and persecution, not just white men between the ages of 18-47. The inability to see the big picture, and ignoring the big picture to increase your gross margins is what has and what is killing our species. It's also what's killing society and relationships, because it's one of the fuels that fires misunderstandings, ignorance and violence. So, for anybody that cannot see the big picture, Spazogod will increase your head to be the size of a Buick, with eyes the size of monster truck tires. Your body will remain the same size. I imagine most of the world will end up looking like this, and it will cause reform in no time flat! What's more, Spazogod will get many laughs from seeing your bodies flailing around trying to move your enormous heads. Oh. Your brain will stay the same size, in case you were wondering.

I hope you've enjoyed my little bit of self indulgence, with many thanks to mental poo.

-Spazogod out

===============

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Those Dirty Fag Suckers

For all of those politically correct overboard junkies, don't get your panties in a bunch. When I refer to dirty fag sucker, I'm talking about cigarette smoking, not the other kind of smoking.

From here on in, cigarettes shall be referred to the proper term "fag", as they are called in England. And I shall refer to fag smokers as "dirty fag smokers", because smoking fags is a dirty, filthy, disgusting habit.

Fag smoking is such a dirty habit, and I'm ashamed to admit that I've done a lot of fag smoking in the past. The first time I smoked a fag, my reflex reaction was to cough, sputter, and spit until every last molecule of the white stuff was expelled from my insides. So what did I do? I took another suck.

Fag sucking first starts off as a result of peer pressure. All of the cool kids are sucking on fags, and all of your friends are sucking on fags. You're offered fag after fag after fag, until finally you give in and start sucking on a fag to fit in. You derive no pleasure from the first few fags. That does not last.

After your body gets over it's initial fag rejection, and you begin sucking more and more fags, you begin to develop a fag buzz. It's a light headed euphoric feeling that fag sucking gives you, and you enjoy it. It's a legal high! No wonder all the cool kids do it!

Soon afterwards, the fags let you down in a big way. You see, your body accustoms itself to sucking on fags, and the fag buzz is replaced with addiction.

That's right my friends, you no longer WANT to suck on a fag. You NEED to suck on a fag.

The more fags you suck, the more fags you need. For those of you who have never been addicted to fag sucking, you can liken it to hunger for food. Your body NEEDS food, and when you go without it your brain can focus on very little but to go find food. Once you have food, and are sated, you mind can focus on other things. That's what it's like with fags. If you go without a fag for too long, your mind can think about nothing but sucking on that long, slim fag until you've had your fill. You're only focus is to go and suck on that fag.

Some people try to justify smoking fags by sucking on the light fags. The problem with light fags is that your body needs a certain amount of fag, and smoking light fags just means you'll smoke more of them and more often to get the fag your body requires.

Once you are truly and thoroughly addicted to fags, it's almost impossible to quit. Doctors say that a fag addiction is harder to give up than cocaine. I agree. Apparently, your body needs the active chemical in fag. Once you start smoking fags, your body stops making the chemical because it gets all it needs from fag sucking. When you try to quit, it takes your body time to adjust to it and start making the fag chemical again. In the meantime, you go CRAZY!

Most who try to give up fag sucking will never do so because they make excuses about it. They say that it's not the right time, that they are too stressed right now. You see, they will always have some sort of stress in their lives, that's what living is all about. Life causes stress, it's a fact. The funny thing is, that the stress they are actually talking about is the stress caused by not sucking on any fags. People insist that after sucking on a fag, their stress level goes down, it calms them, they can focus on other things. The stress is caused by your bodies need for the fag chemical itself! Of course you feel more relaxed after you fill that need!

I gave up dirty fag sucking about 2 1/2 years ago. It was probably the hardest thing I had ever done. Fags are very expensive now. It's ten dollars for a pack of fags, and twenty-five fags come in a pack. Yes, I was sucking on twenty-five fags a day! I went through withdrawal, I got sick, I was stressed, but in the end I did it. I wanted to do it for my health, as fag sucking causes heart disease and lung cancer and a whole host of other maladies, and that scared me. I ended up finally quitting fag sucking for financial reasons. I had just purchase my home and I was very short on money. Could you imagine losing your home for something as silly as the need to suck on fags? The truth of the matter is that it took me almost a whole year before I was completely over my addiction to fags. Long after the chemical dependency has dissipated, the habit is still there. It takes a long time for your brain to adjust to not sucking on fags at break times, at lunch time, in your car, with a coffee, with a beer.

I'm glad I gave it up. Fag sucking is gross. After you suck on a fag, you STINK, and the area STINKS. Fag suckers don't understand how much they actually smell after sucking on fags all day until they stop sucking on fags themselves. Fags also leave stains on your fingers and teeth, and you end up with little fag holes all over your clothing.

Kids, if you've never sucked on a dirty fag before, do not start. If you have started, stop now before it's too late. Trust me, you might think it's cool now, but you WILL regret it when you're older and can't stop sucking on fags.

People of the world unit, let's stop dirty fag sucking!