WILMA FINGERDO


This week had a theme, a pretty straightforward one too: "Katie, Wilma Fingerdo", laced with syphilis, oozing herpes sores, attached to a gnome wearing a trollee-esq mask when you least expect it, EVERY FUCKING DAY?!

I met with optadaddy on Monday to discuss my lady balls. While I appreciate his enthusiasm for Graves' ophthalmology because really, if a doctor has a raging hard on for something that's ailing you, s/he's the DR you want. Right? Right.

I'm in the chair. Between us is the peeper machine that scopes your balls. While he's fondling mine with said machine, he's going on and on and on about his latest study with rabbits and rats and their peepers popping. Again, I appreciate his enthusiasm, but do I really need the deets?

I said, "My sister had a rabbit named Clovis", thinking this would ignite the, oh-I've-said-too-much-gene, and make him stop. On the contrary, he didn't. After the fondlefest, I said, "Ya know, DRB, I really don't want to break-up with you because you are the Graves' Optha daddy of doom. However, the image of sacrificed animals is nauseating, depressing and way more than I can handle. You've crossed a boundary."

Do you know what he said? "I'm authoring a paper for (I can't remember the name) medical journal all about it."

Seriously?! I have NOTHING to say and EVERYTHING to talk.

Everyone was so far up my ass this week, did I ask for a free colonoscopy? No, I did not. No matter what I said or did, it was wrong. A ginormy week of misunderstandings. Don't you love when people say, "I'm listening."? Really? You are? Than why the fuck can't you hear me?!

Argh.

The upside is that my surname isn't Humpdick. I'm healthy and the week will be officially over tomorrow.

PS: Wilma Fingerdo is a dragalicious diva.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

SPEAKING OF ABORTIONS

Image
Menses just commenced. It's 1:14 AM. I was asleep. That felt good. At 12:24, I popped up. I think I'm awake, maybe awakeish is more accurate. I'm always surprised when those handy-soapy-foamy-bottles run out of soap. For some lame ass reason, it never occurs to me that they ever will. They feel so lifetime supply , even though the bottles aren't more than 8 inches tall. Similarly, when I flip on a light switch and the light flickers to its death, I think "Now what?" Duh, schmuckette, you change the fucking light bulb . Intellectually, I know this, yet for some odd reason, it never comes to mind. In fact, a few years ago, my mother walked into my house and said, "Why aren't the lights working?" I said "I don't know, I flick the switch and they don't work." After a fit of uproarious laughter, she said, "Would it kill you to change the light bulb?” Hmmm. "No", I shamefully responded. I wonder why... it is that I hav...
Read more

Best Spam Evaaaaaaaaaaah -UPDATE-

Image
Look what I found in my box today?! Aside from the fact that I'm a VADGE and there is a glaring typo " fie" instead of " fine" , they've made this dame a raging cunt- hate that (and her high, tight rack. Bitch ). Women don't behave this way. Women aren't cunty. Women don't emasculate men. That is not how we roll, yo. UPDATE : From the fabulous and flawless MonkeyMucker : Actually hon that's not a typo. the word "fie" is a somewhat rare wordthat is used to denote scorn or used in place of a swear or curse word.It was more popular in the old days, like say during the 16th thru 19th centuries . Who knew?! I had no idea. Simianboy, you're a wealth of knowledge. Grazie. Penis enlargement patches also do not work. If you want to keep your junk intact, don't be stickin' things in it, or on it that can damage the meat bat. Don't let anyone make you feel badly about your manhood, either. It's your dick, live it. Love it....
Read more

Get Listen Up

Image
Have you seen the infomercial for Get Listen Up ? I thought the idea of a product that turns "Ordinary hearing into Extroidinary hearing" was too camp for words. In the mersh, a hospitable narrator takes you through all kinds of folks using it in church, hunting, watching television, listening to your spawn on the playground, all doable, right? Right. I was sold, too. Until.... my friendly narrator lady said "Listen to what your neighbors are saying about you." Okay, creeparella, how very big brother. Watch the mersh . Doreen sent me a kick ass, smart ass article this week in the NY Times called, " Skin Deep - Hey, Mom, the Rabbi Approved my Tattoo ". Speaking of Diva Doreen, I finished her flawless, brilliant book Queen of the Road (it's tits to the tenth, children) and she's graciously allowed me to interview her. I'll be posting that this week and you will love every word. Frannylish sent me, in her words an "oy gevalt" article ...
Read more