Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Question: Do you ever wish you had Cancer so you can go on a legitimate Cancer rampage?

Is that sort of like being mentally handicapped and having unheard of stores of strength?


I'm going to admit that I've never heard of a cancer rampage. I picture people with cancer on the other end of the ability to rampage spectrum. Like a cancer rampage would be a tired person in a wheelchair flicking at you with limp fingers.


As for the question that starts with any form of '...ever wish you had cancer' that's a pretty big fucking no.


I think the most interesting part of this question is the inclusion of the word legitimate, as though there were people in the world going on rampages and then faking like they were fuelled by cancer.


"Sorry I climbed that building and caused all that property damage. I'd just watched King Kong and I've got a crazy big cancer to boot."


"Oh. It was just a cancer rampage? Our apologies, madam."


Short Answer: Just generic search engined this to see if I was missing something huge. Turns out, this may be a reference to an episode of Archer (and one that I've seen.) So big fails on me. It's probably the menopause.

Monday, March 30, 2015

Question: How do I catch a girl's attention?

If you're having to phrase it this way, I'm assuming you're already positioned behind the towering eight ball of fug-ugliness, stupidity, stinkmouth, pignose, Dumbo ears, connect-the-dot face, heavy nerd syndrome, or elaborate uses of clichéd concepts like 'being behind an eight ball'.


The way you catch a girls' attention is to have someone throw it to you. Not just a brilliant joke, an insightful one. Sometimes it's who you know, and a friend or an acquaintance indicating to said female that you have value is key to getting in the front door of her vagina.


Value. That's the key word. Women respond to value. Like if you're at a club, and you're standing in the corner sweater-vesting the shit out of it, you have little value. Whereas the guy on stage playing the guitar is demonstrating a talent and confidence and therefore value.


If you don't know yourself very well, or you have a serious lack of confidence, you're already in trouble. The key is understanding yourself well enough to assign value to aspects of your personality. Obviously knowing pi to a thousand digits is cool, but not to the chick in the neon leotard whose value is being shown by butt-cleavage. You need to think about your value to her. Step one is confidence in whatever you do. Humor is a good step two, as an example. If you can't rock out on stage with a guitar, at least be able to make a bitch snort up her cranberry martini.


So love yourself, understand yourself and put your best foot forward. Fuck, I'm stinking it up with all the clichés today.


Short Answer: Above all else, don't get rattled. You have as much right to pressing your genitals against other genitals as anyone else, despite the perceived value inherent in a pretty lady. She might be the dumbest or cruelest person on the planet, so don't go in with the idea that you're somehow below her. Wait for later in the night to be below her. During sex. When she's on top.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Question: Haven't read your blog in a while. You still doing poetry?

Check the archives you absent motherfucker!


That'll get them coming back regularly. In the meantime, I think they're asking for poetry.


Here's something.




Vitriol, spewed like water-color, green onto hatching eggs, acid from the artist's hope.
A red wagon, streaked upwards, to signify loss of innocence, opportunity for contrast.
The golden room, where it's hard to tread and see without squinting, is guarded.
Those that hunt its source deserve its hard-edge rebuff.


The canon is a simple one, exercising fast-moving demons so they're ready to pounce
and grip tightly those that whimper in the face of opportunity.


Read and read again, learn precedent and stay nubile, get your hair arranged in such a way that
you'll look good in your casket, whether they have time to fix you up or not.
It's a possibility; the room of gold kills many.


Growls and smoke from depths beyond comprehension, winding ways
and angular perspectives, motes of fleeing spirits that get into your wide eyes.
Go back, rethink, deserve something better, earn a far more challenging path.
Or die with all the fools.


Hostility, thick like sawdust in the primer, black and blue, suffering from the everyman's blindness.




Short Answer: The Golden Room

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Question: Could you give us a new list of sex positions?

The Goatbucky - for when you're horny and want the challenge of climbing a vertical face.
Thermal Bag - for when you want to keep all the heat in.
Red Bearded Furniture Maker - for those who like to role play and be penetrated by wood.


Those are three things I saw walking home yesterday. That's how easy it is to make up funny names for sex positions.


Further Example:


The Walk Home - when you mess up your hair beforehand and hold your shoes the whole time.


Further, further Example:


The Further Example - one knuckle past the point of pleasure.


Almost anything can be a sex position. Really.


Short Answer: The Almost Anything - when you want to get spread out like a nickel defense on Sunday. Not sure how a football analogy got in here.


Note: The Football Analogy - establishing dominance with penetration up the middle before you start swinging the balls wide.

Friday, March 27, 2015

Question: What is your favorite t-shirt?

My wife just got me an some awesome ones for Christmas. Just? How long ago was Christmas? Is it almost Christmas again? I hate when that happens. Bam! Christmas!


She got me a Pink Floyd Animals t-shirt (my favorite album) with the floating pig on it. It's pretty much the best t-shirt ever. She also replaced my Flash t-shirt that she shrunk to all hell in the wash. That's one of her go-tos.


I also just picked up a neat Batman t-shirt where the symbol is comprised of comic book panels. I own a Winchester Tavern shirt from Shaun of the Dead that I like because only fans notice what it is. I have a couple of Fantastic Four shirts, an Iron Man and a Green Lantern as well.


Two Vancouver Canucks t-shirts. No, wait, three. A Daniel Bryan shirt, a tag-team championship belt shirt and a Dolph Ziggler shirt. Those are all related to wrasslin'. I also have a pretty sweet shirt that a friend bought which has a picture of Jason Voorhies standing beside a calendar, bloody machete in hand. It says Saturday the 13th on the calendar and he looks super disappointed.


I've got a Dr. Fate shirt, a classless shirt that claims the only thing I know about women is that they have boobs (a gift), and various sports related things I've kept over the years from Super Bowl shirts to World Cup shirts, including a specific Argentinian one.


My oldest and most cherished t is a straight black one - though it's fading into a weird rusty red after nearly twenty years of use - that has a single, simple, small Decepticon symbol on the chest.


I've also got a Wolverine and a Silver Surfer, as well as a Blind Guardian (one of my favorite bands) concert t from Twist in the Myth, a Game of Thrones shirt featuring the throne itself, and a sweet new Reservoir Dogs (my second favorite movie) shirt with the dudes walking past a white, brick wall.


Short Answer: Funny thing is, the shirt I wear the most is one of eight or so plain, black ones that I own for when I'm not in the mood to make a decision.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Question: What do you think of Jesse Eisenberg's big bald head?

I'm starting to get excited about this movie. I didn't realize it until I saw that head. I'm curious to see the direction they go with Eisenberg. I think he could be a great Luthor, if they let him make something of the character that's a bit different, and it looks like they are letting him do just that.


Seeing Momoa in badass aqua-gear has also got me turned on, I mean excited, about Snyder's Justice-verse. Having not enjoyed Man of Steel on the first go, I've subsequently come to terms with it as a long-ass origin movie, where Superman maybe kinda shows up near the end sorta. So this feels like it could be a better Superman movie, perhaps the one we were hoping for in the first place.


And who isn't excited to see Batman in any incarnation?


Short Answer: Ezra Miller as the Flash? Yessir. A proper Wonder Woman movie? Yessim. Cyborg? Errr...never mind that. Batman again! Weeeee!

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Question: Got a rant for today?

I hate computers. They are dumb. They do what they want, and I have very little control. For some reason, my online backup through my anti-virus has decided it doesn't work anymore. It says there isn't enough space, even when I get around the error, but in no way will it let me erase the backups that are already there. So instead of doing incremental backups, it's trying to do one big one, and I have too much shit for how much space is left.


I'm sure you've all had similar experiences with stupid shit happening for no good reason. I think I'm done struggling. Now I don't have an online backup through there. Oh well. I should never have trusted that I did in the first place, because all things electronic are unreliable. I'm a fool to have felt even a modicum of security.


Of course it says I could remove all other software that may be interfering, then remove and reinstall the anti-virus. I'm not gonna do that. Because that's a bunch of bullshit. Besides, the damn problem might right itself in a day or a month.


Aarggh.


Short Answer: I shouldn't have to learn everything about something to feel good about using it. Hookers aren't like that. You don't even need a name, and they're the best things going.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Question: Pregunta?

Spanish is such a beautiful language.


I can't get pregunta because I'm a man. Unless you're talking about pizza pregunta.


Just kidding. Pregunta doesn't mean that. It means 'question'. Thinking this might be from the same reader who asked about 'noitseuq' the other day.


I see what you're doing. Giving me questions that aren't really questions, trying to make me buck my programming and overheat. It's not gonna happen! I am a self-cooling robot, motherfucker!


I totally farted just now when I got excited. I'm a fart robot, apparently.


See? This is what happens when you give me no direction. We're just talking about farts. Are you happy?


I don't speak Spanish, so if your question is can I answer questions in Spanish, the answer is si. Or whatever no is.


Short Answer: Pregunta is an amazing word, so I commend you for the question if you saw that word and thought about filthy, fat stuffs. Or if you thought it would be a good name for a minivan. 'The Kia Pregunta. Should you have had a family?'

Monday, March 23, 2015

Question: What do you think of Ted Cruz running for President?

Politics shmolitics. Yea. I said it.


Ted Cruz is a nutter. He'll say a bunch of stupid, crazy shit in the primary and be ousted. No way he gets the Republican nomination. Therefore, I don't care.


It'll be good fodder for comedians, at least.


Short Answer: This is the "I'll work with Martians" guy, in case you've all forgotten.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Question: A new Mission Impossible trailer just landed. Are you excited for the movie? Are you a fan of Mission Impossible/Tom Cruise?

The best part of the Mission Impossible movies is when they let Limp Bizkit do a version of the song.


That was a joke. If you ever want to show people the opposite of me or my blog, show them that sentence.


I love Mission Impossible movies. I'm a little too young to have experienced the television show, but I thoroughly enjoyed the first foray onto the big screen, directed by the incomparable Brian de Palma. Then came the showy, bastard-son of a sequel directed by John Woo, woo-ing it up perhaps more than ever before. Though at times absurd, I found it a great ride. The third movie, helmed by the now idolized J.J. Abrams was a harder sell for me, and the first time I watched it I wasn't all that impressed. On subsequent viewings, I have learned to appreciate it. The fourth, Ghost Protocol may be my favorite of the series. I loved the shit out of it. And it was directed by Brad Bird, previously of The Iron Giant, Ratatouille and The Incredibles fame, three bad-ass animated movies.


Now, for the crux of my column today. The new movie has been directed by Christopher McQuarrie, which makes me leak from my tits with joy. This fucker is an enigma. With hardly any mainstream credits he's best known for writing the superb Bryan Singer film The Usual Suspects. Then, he wrote and directed the famously underrated Way of the Gun in 2000. Then out of nowhere's-ville he writes and directs the stunning (and also underrated) Jack Reacher twelve years later!


And I love Tom Cruise. Always have. I think he's the tits, and one of the few guys you can consistently go to for major studio actioners. People were pissed when he was cast as Jack Reacher, because the character from the book is supposed to be a huge dude. I wasn't. You need a guy who can believably beat the fuck out of a bunch of dudes, look no further than Tom Cruise and his track record in major films.


Short Answer: Excited as balls.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Question: Top Ten Prostitute Names?

10) Back Allie
9) 'The Trench'
8) Suzie Squirtbag
7) Deep Tiny
6) Five Lips McGinty
5) Buttstuff Brenda
4) Sheena Yeastin'
3) Linda Plus Balls
2) Carol 'The Dumpster' Longtits
1) Soft Serve Sally


Short Answer: This is one of those lists that can go on forever.

Friday, March 20, 2015

Question: Could you go for butt implants?

If you mean me, no sir. I've always had quite enough butt. And even though I'm slimming down in my old age, I'm not a big fan of people cutting into my body for no reason. After three weeks trapped in that old carnival with that murderous clown, I tend to shy away from sharp objects and large feet.


Could I go for a woman who has them? Hard to say. I've never felt a butt implant, so that would be a big part of it. If they feel normal, then hell yea. Do what you want, girl, don't bother me none. But if they feel like sandbags, or airbags or bags of groceries then that's not going to fly with my wiener.


I think - in general - that we should all leave ourselves the fuck alone. We all have outward beauty and outward ugliness, just as we have inward beauty and inward ugliness. You work either ugliness the same way. You try to deal with it as best you can, but you also accept it to some degree so you don't feel terrible about yourself every day. I know there are extreme cases like desire to murder innocents and sag-bottom, but most of us don't fall into those polarizing categories. Most of us are alright, inside and out, and would feel better if we just gave ourselves a break once in a while. I think that's a more sound philosophy than getting cut the fuck up.


Short Answer: I don't think I'd be able to identify a butt implant, unless it was terribly overwrought. Or of course one of those awful surgery stories where its clear because of all the damage. Hate to see that shit.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Question: What would you like to see happen in the realm of fast food?

http://askkeithanything.blogspot.ca/2014/12/question-how-would-you-improve-fast.html


That's the answer to the December '14 Question: How would you improve the fast food experience?


It's difficult to differentiate for this particular question, but I'll try.


I'd like to see a trend of the food getting even cheaper. That way, we'll murder off all the fatties who are sucking up all the government assistance and McChicken sauce milkshakes. Like, dirt cheap, so an even bigger slice of the population is encouraged to live off of fast food, making more fatties and more death. This is one of the ways that we can improve the planet. Murdering off a fuck-load of our own selves.


There's too many of us! Too many humans! And I don't know if you've noticed, but most of us are complete pieces of shit. Literally complete wastes of flesh and organs. I've met people whose only intrinsic value is their organs, assuming they haven't smoked or eaten them into a green, rotten goo that only barely resembles their original appearance.


Speaking of rotten goo that only barely resembles its original appearance, fast food is fuckin' awful! It tastes good. That's all it has going for it. Shit, we could stay at home and eat tablespoons of parmesan cheese if flavor was all that mattered. Food keeps you healthy, whether you like it or not. Eat garbage, you get garbaged up.


Short Answer: Sometimes it's okay to eat garbage. That's why I don't suggest making fast food of a higher quality. It's fun to be a piece of shit once in a while and gobble a Whopper like you've never eaten before, but you can't live like that. Actually can't live. Will die.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Question: What are your top ten alibis?

10) I was with your wife.
9) I was murdering somewhere else.
8) Do I look like the kind of man who would cup a breast?
7) My dog was washing my hair. Ask him.
6) I'm too alone to have an alibi. Ask anyone.
5) Why would I need an alibi? I don't even like grapes. What? Oh...
4) I was riding the subway all night, you know, for fun.
3) The only thing I like to murder is a bottle of Jergens and a butthole Fleshlight.
2) I was with your mother.
1) My friends and I were watching a shit load of  bestiality pornos. I'm sure they'll back me up.


Short Answer: This answer was in no way sponsored by Jergens or Fleshlight, but if either company feels the need to give me some free stuff, I'm sure I can find a way to put those products to good use.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Question: What is the best sexual encounter you've ever had (read: NOT BY YOURSELF)?

I'll write as I think. I've been having sexual relations with my wife for quite some time. I figure we must have banged out the pokey more than a dozen times by now, so it's going to take me a bit.


There was one time when she came home super drunk. Like, really, really drunk. We had some mad, middle of the living room floor mouth time, than some up against the chair from behind goodness, than more mouth time, and a finale that got into everyone's hair.


We've had numerous good experiences doing horrible things in front of open windows while people go by. Out on the balcony at a hotel was a good one of those, as was half-naked in the park.


Feels like there's a big one in there...


...is what she said to me when we were doing it!


One sec.


I guess it's possible that some of my 'best' sexual encounters were before I ever actually had sex. In my youth I had a good run of incredible first experiences, from a blowjob where the girl just placed my wiener in her mouth and didn't move, to a near-miss with some twins, to a sleepover tag-team. You get the picture. All of those first-time experiences were really great, and have a special quality because of how new they were.


If I have to pick a best, I'd probably go with the first time my wife and I did fucky. And I don't mean the first time we had sex, because for a while, I was absolutely terrible at sex. I had no fucking clue what to do, and my confidence was shot from the very first weak performance. Then one night we had a fight, our first real fight, and subsequently the first real bout of make-up sex. Because I was still a little angry, all my fears went out the window, and I just went at it with more aplomb that I'd previously brought to the table.


Like, a lot more. Like, put your hands against the wall and press hard or you're going to get your face banged into it more. I remember feeling like I was doing something I'd never done before, a real first, a real fuckening. From that point forward, I grew to become a mediocre to excellent sex partner.


Short Answer: There's been some crazy shit over the years, but my fondest memories are relatively normal experiences. Like twelve position sex, or the time the clown watched, or the time a giant cat came into the bedroom while we were doing it (we don't own a cat), or the time I had a multiple orgasm and no one knew what the fuck was going on, or the time my wife almost had an orgasm (we'll get there eventually, even if I have to hire a stunt-cock), or the time that I thought we were doing anal but I was just stuck in the blankets, or the time I got a BJ while doing anything else you can imagine, or the time we played pudding-dick, or the time...

Monday, March 16, 2015

Question: How do you live with yourself?

I find that communication is the key to any relationship. I make sure that I listen to myself, pay attention to my own needs, and keep the physical relationship relevant so I don't just become roommates with myself.


(Translation: I jerk off a lot.)


In a more existential way, I guess everyone struggles to be happy with themselves. Those who have a healthy amount of self-esteem have it easier in theory, and yet even the most confident person can be swamped by doubt from time to time.


(Translation: Everyone is a piece of shit.)


Though I feel bad about myself on occasion, I like myself a lot. The self-confidence outweighs the doubt most days. The more interesting question is how the fuck does anyone live with me? I'm a rabid dinosaur of judgement, passion and humour, raking sour faces and dry-humping boundaries.


(Translation: I'm a narcissist.)


I think most of the time my wife just goes limp and waits until it's all over.


(Translation: I get a lot of love and acceptance from my support system.)


Short Answer: The key to happiness is perspective. Often, I feel like I'm failing in the face of problems, or that I could do better in the fashion that I approach and handle them. Then I think about all the things that are awesome about myself and I feel better.


(Translation: Mullet.)

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Question: Nimoy, Friday the 13th or Pi Day?

I was just thinking about something like this, how interesting things can pass me by when no one asks a question.


This blog is some crazy experiment. It's like a person whose personality is solely based on what other people allow them to be.


Nimoy. That sucks.


Friday the 13th. That be crazy.


Pi Day. More like cheesesteak day.


Well, I'm glad we covered that.


Short Answer: If I was supposed to choose, I choose Nimoy. Unless that means I'm choosing his death, in which case I would choose something else. Days aren't special, either could go. Except maybe Leonard Nimoy Day, that can stay.



Saturday, March 14, 2015

Question: Noitseuq?

Wow.


I guess if you didn't notice that this was just question spelled backwards, you're probably an idiot. No worries. You go through life happy and without knowing the danger you're in. When you go, you'll hardly know what hit you. Keep on keepin' on!


I woke this morning with an idea in my head, something wonderful that my sub-conscious brought to light. It was a Satin Welcome Dragon. You know, a dragon in really expensive pajamas who smokes a pipe and greets you at the door?


See? This is what you get when you don't ask me a real question! You just get to read a bunch of crazy nonsense. Is this what you wanted? Is it?


I hope you're happy. I hope you're all happy! How about this? No one gets Satin Welcome Dragons! No one! This is a reverse Oprah going on right here! A Harpo!


Oh, holy shit, Oprah backwards is Harpo! I never fucking saw that before. That's blowing my damn mind!


This answer has too many exclamation points. I have to go.


Short Answer: You don't get a Satin Welcome Dragon! You don't get a Satin Welcome Dragon! You all don't get Satin Welcome Dragons!!!


Note: Is Satin Welcome Dragon a band name or a sex position?

Friday, March 13, 2015

Question: I heard a rumour that you often write naked?

Yea, that's true. But it's not a sexy thing. Well, I guess in a way, everything I do is a sexy thing...


What I mean is that I just happen to be naked. I sleep naked, and I get up and start work almost immediately, and so I don't bother with things. I don't eat, or get dressed, or touch my phone. I just sit in my chair and start working.


Don't worry. It's not like I lay my balls on the keyboard and therefore everything I ever say on blog is tainted with my balls. It's not like I get a stubber going and use it to press the space bar for my own amusement. It's not like I stop in the middle of sentences to...one sec...blarrghghghghhg!!!


Short Answer: Things are worse here than you might imagine.

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Question: You recently mentioned that speaking on a certain subject gives your "hemorrhoids a headache". I've been there, brother. So, what's the best cure? Aspercreme?

I like Butt Tylenol.


Or Extra Strength Advil for Butts.


Or Anacin. You know, the one for anuses.


Or Midol, for menstruation. And butts.


Or Buckley's Rectum Chews.


Or Preparation H for headaches.


Or Oral B hemorrhoid floss, for the hard to reach places.


Or Tucks Pads, with witch hazel.


Short Answer: One of these is real.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Question: So you're sick...

I slept for almost eleven hours. I was fine with it, conceptually. Sometimes people get sick. Sometimes they sleep for eleven hours.


There's this thing called #PitMad. I don't know if I've ever talked about it before, but here's the skinny. People like me who want to attract the attention of the publishing industry make little tweets that summarize our little books, and little people out in the world who control all the hope and wallets tell us if they're interested. I am notoriously bad at keeping track of when these things occur, even though it's crucial to my success that I pay attention.


There's a #PitMad today, going on right now. I'm such an absolute piece of crap, that I managed - not only to not even know it was happening - but to sleep my ass through the first seven hours of it.


Next time I bitch about my career as an author on blog, feel free to punch me in my e-nuts.


Short Answer: Now, to compensate, I'm sending out a bunch at once, which is apparently bad form. Can't win. Gonna eat worms.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Question: Why is it that Americans lose their minds every four years, with the phenomenon becoming most apparent the closer they get to a Presidential election?

Yea, American politics is dumb. I'm sorry to inform you, however, that there is a fallacy in your question. Americans are always obsessed with their politics in pathetic and incomprehensible ways. Make no mistake, it replaces real news for 23 to 25 hours on every day of the year.


I don't think they get worse around election time. In fact, when focused on the election, Americans are less insane. They aren't trying to come up with stories and drama where none exist, like Obama holds his coffee wrong or whatever. Selecting a new leader of the free world actually is a story, and there is real drama associated with it.


But let's not talk about the primaries. That shit kinda proves your point. America gets nuts around the primaries. Just look up what people applauded during the republican primaries last time around, and you'll get a snootful of terrible behaviour.


Short Answer: That's enough. Talking about the state of government in America gives my hemorrhoids a headache.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Question: I think your blog is very rude and offensive.

You should probably go to a different blog, then.


Short Answer: See? This is what happens when people suck. They waste everyone's time. If they had just suffered in silence, or spent their time enjoying the things they enjoy, we could've had something funny and entertaining here today. Or at least something rude and offensive.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Question: Planes, Trains or Automobiles?

Short Distance Travel: The answer is clearly automobiles. It's noice to be in control of your own destiny, even if statistically speaking you're most likely to die in a car crash a short distance from your home. (I meant to type nice in the sentence above, but I typed noice instead. Left it there.)


Long Distance Travel: Gotta be trains. Trains are the tits. More room than planes which equates to more comfort, as well as the dining car and the ability to get up and go for a walk. And I prefer the view of rolling hills to far away dots.


Fucking: This is also trains. Plane bathrooms are way too small for all my dong, and the backseat of a car is rife with troublesome angles. One trick if you must do it in a car is to knock out the back seats and use some of the trunk space, at least so the woman can stretch out her legs when she's sitting on your lap.


Taking Your Driving Test: Planes.


Short Answer: This made me think of John Candy. He was funny.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Question: Make up a joke!

A hole was found in the YWCA dressing room at the downtown location. Police are currently looking into it.


This is the quality you get when you yell at me. Let's try again.


What goes, blip-blip-blap, blip-blip-blap, blip-blip-blap, squeaky, squeaky, squeaky, squeaky...ughhhhhhh!
A robot getting off on firing his laser gun, then jerking to climax.


I kinda roped myself into that one from the start. There's too much pressure!


How many Klondike bars does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Which came first, the chicken or the road?
If a stereotype, a stereotype and a stereotype walk into a bar, who's there?


These are all non-starters, sadly. Let's go one more time.


Why did the inventor of Velcro cross the road?
He was securely fastened to the chicken.


Nope. Not quite.


Two people you secretly hate and one person you kinda relate to are playing golf. A golf genie asks the two people you don't like a question, and they answer with typical shit. The genie then asks the third guy the same question, and he responds with something brilliant that either insults or straight up kills the other two, or just puts him in a position above them financially.


Short Answer: I tried.



Friday, March 6, 2015

Question: I was thinking the new Spider-Man should be of Russian decent?

It's funny when someone 'asks a question' by writing a sentence that isn't a question and then puts a question mark at the end. It makes the sentence read totally normally, except for an awkward rise in tone over the last few words.


It also makes it seem comical, and therefor in no way am I forced to take it seriously.


How does that change Spider-Man at all? Unless his origin actually takes place in Russia, or he talks with a ridiculous Chekhov from Star Trek accent, I can't see how it will change much. Will he talk about vodka too often?


If this is some sly attempt at humour, bravo. I get it. Talk of changing Spider-Man's ethnicity has arisen once more since the declaration of another reboot. If you're asking me where I stand on that, I'm gonna have to think for a minute.


(less than a minute later...)


I don't care.


Short Answer: To some degree, I like keeping characters the way they were created and the way they were popularized. But the times in which they were created don't necessarily reflect our society today, and I think some allowances in that regard are natural.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Question: Then is today about boobs?

Every day is about boobs.


I love boobs. Boobs, boobs, boobs.


To answer your question, yes. Today is about boobs. Boobs make everyone happy. Even when boobs are evil, and they're so big that they hurt someone's back, they still give big booby joy to all in sight.


Babies love boobs 'cause they get to suck 'em.  Adult men and women love boobs 'cause they get to suck 'em. Homeless men, robots, tax attorneys, llamas - suck 'em!


Even people who aren't attracted to women like boobs. They're esthetically pleasing. Pillows on people? Brilliant. Cleavage? Tasteful. Bikinis? In.


Also, boobs make my penis fill with bigness, and then if I touch up against things, it feels good in my taint.


Short Answer: Boobs!

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Question: 3-day Pooperama!!

Thanks for the two exclamation points.


I bumped this question up in the queue because otherwise it wouldn't actually have come on the shit-covered heels of the last two poop-oriented question.


(By the way, this is a wily and devious way to force me to answer your questions first. Though sometimes I will wait and try to embarrass you for attempting to manipulate me. Your move!)


Problem here is evident. Unless I'm somehow supposed to have a real, honest-to-goodness Pooperama right now, I have no idea what question to answer.


Also, I just had a Pooperama and it left some terlet skiddies on the porcelain, so I feel like that's been accomplished.


(Sometimes when I'm writing an answer, I know when I write a certain phrase that it's going to be the Short Answer. Case in point: terlet skiddies.)


Don't judge me readers. I am at your mercy. If I could choose, would I write about feces three days in a row? Of course maybe. Would I throw some boobs in there? Almost always I would. Poetry? Probably not! But I am at your beck and call, your whims are my command, your desires are my chores. This agreement is overly one-sided. I'm losing all momentum here. You're a pack of wild dogs gnashing at my throat, hoping to feed on the tender humour of my neck meat!!!


Aaarrgghghh!


Short Answer: Terlet skiddies.


Note: Turns out this wasn't the third poop answer in a row. Someone messed up. Don't point that finger at me! You point at you, you!

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Question: When are you off-message?

My fingernails are growing faster than they used to. Would someone tell me why the fuck my finger nails are growing faster than they used to! Am I about to die! Is it the increase in root vegetables? Why, oh dear god, why?


I guess this is kind of a question about politics, which these days makes my brain crazy. Though I put forth that the previous paragraph would've sufficed as an answer.


Off-message usually refers to a political candidate who has an opinion that clashes with the opinion of the party that represents him. Like if you're an anti-abortion Democrat for example. Or a sensible Republican.


The fact that off-message even means what it means is fucking disturbing. How could everyone's politics line up properly? Shouldn't every person clash with their party at least a little? The answer to that question is of course, but instead candidates lie their asses off to mold themselves into some semblance of humanity so they can get funded and marketed well. I'm no longer fooled. I want to be represented by an actual human, not a folded up piece of mucky rhetoric.


Short Answer: Can fingernails change speed on you, just like that? It makes no fucking sense!!!

Monday, March 2, 2015

Question: If girl bums are so cute, how does poop come out of them?

A poop question two days in a row! All those people who ask me to do poetry are loving this!


I agree that it's weird when cute things poop, unless the poop is cute. Like a bunny rabbit. His poop is pretty cute, right?


Now that we've established that you'll agree with anything, here's the deal. Women, sadly, are just like men. We are equal creatures, with less differences than people imagine. One of the reasons that women deserve true equality and equal wages is because of just how badly they ruin themselves when they take a massive deuce. It's ugly, real ugly. And they've earned the right to be angry about being treated like precious little dolls. Because man, oh man, can they destroy a bathroom with that cute little pooter.


Women are beautiful. They're curvy and sleek and soft and juicy and all those wonderful things. Then, when it's go time, they make curvy, sleek, soft and juicy feces, just like the dong-owning of our species.


Best to try not to think about it. Especially when you have your penis in your hand. It takes things in an uncomfortable direction. Like a poop that lands completely out of the water.


Short Answer: I call those evolution poops, because it's like that fish that crawled onto land.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Question: Ever missed a poop?

Okay, I'm pretty sure I'm understanding this correctly. My instinct was that you were talking about what I refer to as the 'poop window'. That's the timeframe in which you can make a poop come out, from the moment it rears its ugly little turtlehead, to the moment it recedes in fear because for whatever reason, you've decided not to let the bugger go free.


Missing the poop window is the worst, because you feel like you have something to do all day, and no idea what that thing is. It's like forgetting that final chore on your list. Sometimes, it even manifests itself physically, and feels entirely too much like a huge poop lodged in your colon.


So yes. I've missed the window a few times. If this question instead means, "Did you ever have a poop you loved so much that you missed it once it was flushed away?" The answer to that version of this question is no. I've been pretty fucking impressed by a poop or two in my day, but never so much that I wish I could get one more glimpse. Not even the poop that looked exactly like a nerf football, no sir.


Short Answer: Ever had a hot fudge sundae poop? A strawberry short cake poop? How about a poop that looks like that old barrel of monkeys game? Bye!!!