Little Hero

Yes. Yes yes yes! Yes! Holy shit!




I can die now.

Iggy Pop Ape and Ladies' Night

I promised somebody I'd make this (no I didn't) and my word is bond:

(ape body belongs to Kanzi)


On a different note, I don't think this blog is getting the female readership I'm so obviously courting. Ladies probably don't cotton to my opinions on children, so I figure I should add some potpourri to this stinkhole, maybe light some candles, eat a lot of Ben & Jerry's, and let my feminine side gallop about like the unicorns of yore.

Many women have a natural affinity for children. It's true. And women also like men who like kids. True as well. And can you blame them? I mean, they are so cute, right? What with their small, human-like features, it's like you've summoned beautiful goblins that depend on you for crap. Women like goblins, too. It's a fact. Plus, with their pea-sized intellects, children are liable to say the funniest shit ever and not even know it.


Show your lady that you care about kids by building a playground



Women also love chocolate and sweets. This is because chocolate contains phenylethylamine - the same chemical that is released in your brain when you fall in love. The sweetness in chocolate triggers the release of endorphins, which creates a happy feeling. Endorphins are also responsible for the "runner's high". But don't tell your girlfriend, because she'll quit her daily runs and gorge on chocolate, acquire diabetes, lose a leg, and roll around in a wheelchair for 3 miserable years until she "accidentally" falls in the pool when no one is around... Here's some tasty cakes that'll make your girlfriend's mouth water.





(the last two cakes are from Auckland Cake Art)

That's all for now, my labia are killing me.

Hey Kid, Want Some Candy?

I hate kids, with exceptions for Kid from Kid 'n Play and the movie Kids. They're loud, obnoxious, need movie plots explained, and can't take a punch. And they get upset too easily, like when when a perfectly nice guy with dreadlocks tries to abduct them. For fuck's sake, grow up!


Every time I look at my testicles, no doubt chock full of my potent seed, I contemplate what would happen if I were to impregnate a purdy woman. The consequences of my fertilization would be far reaching and catastrophic to my current lifestyle, which resembles an episode of DuckTales.

It would be very hard for me to let go of that, especially for a little turd that would probably try to murder me when he's 15. But that's if the kid lives to be 15. The booby trapped playpen and general neglect will likely finish him off by the time he turns 3. And the fact that I'm gonna name him Dracula will surely make his school days difficult. The downside would be that if he survives my terrorism, then he is probably tougher and more cunning than me, thus leaving me open to the classic cobra in the pillowcase trick. He'll hover over me as I convulse and curl into a death ball, cobra venom coursing through my veins, and he'll laugh a hearty laugh knowing that justice has been served.

This is a warning to my future son, Dracula. Take note, son:







Lord give me the strength to think of something else when I look at my slightly larger left nut and its lil' buddy to the right. Sheeeeeit... I might as well resign myself to the fact that I'll eventually have more kids than Ol' Dirty Bastard.


But maybe, just maybe...my kids will turn out to be as cool as these little fuckers. Just looking at 'em gives me a shred of hope.