Why do I want to be your president? Because goddamn it, I've earned it. Hell, I was an admiral's son, I didn't have to go to goddamn Vietnam, get shot down and deal with all those goddamn sadistic gook prison guards. No, I went because my prick of a father and his asshole of a father were goddamn admirals, for Christ's sake, and I had no choice but to pay off the poker bet I made with them and join the goddamn Navy. And after five years of eating goddamn rats and getting poked up the ass with hot bamboo sticks, then I gotta return to the states to a limping gimp of a wife who got herself fucked up in a car accident and got all fat on me? The cunt ended up with an ass on her the width of a Volkswagen, and after all I'd been through at the Hanoi Hilton, I was expected to come home and fuck that fat cunt? Hell, no! Then I met Cindy, who was hotter'n a two dollar pistol and her dad owned a beer factory. Why did I dump my fat ass first wife and get with Cindy? Bec...
Comments
My thoughts are with you!
The juxtaposition of your text, with that Scot Tissue ad, is too much. Your blog is just like the text in that ad:
"Peculiarly adapted to the needs of women of intuitive daintiness."
Well at least now I know what Grandma is gonna dab her guppy with when she runs out of bog roll. AND it explains the stains on her sheets...
I have never had the pleasure of dating a member of the tribe, if I ever do, this is something I should expect? Does it impede intimacy or does it cushion it? Is this like "Bumper Bowling"? Does one have to hold them like the tongue of a shoe when you are inserting? If I were into stereotypes should this be applied to all Jewish ladies? Is one less Jewish if their lips are dainty?
My gosh, I've lead a sheltered life!
-Amber