Friday, March 31, 2017

Question: What about a limerick? Have you ever written one? Can you?

What haven't I done by now?

I don't know that I'm proud of either of those limericks. I don't think it's really my thing. I guess I can try again.

In lieu of his regular pay
An old man suggested one day
That he get a good suck
In the back of his truck
From the vacuum he'd married in May

Yea. I'm shit at this. That makes absolutely no sense. What's the guy's job? Why does he have to make a suggestion to a vacuum? Wait. He married a vacuum!

Fuck me.

I'll try it once more.

A woman found out she was late
After a particularly wonderful date
They'd wined and they'd dined
Then they'd packed her behind
With enough tampons to make her think she was pregnant when she wasn't really pregnant.

God dammit. Does the period even come from the behind? I don't know!

I hate being bad at stuff. One more time.

On a Tuesday with plentiful rain
A postman with nothing to gain
Ran fast on his toes
Along the hedgerows
And broke his ankle in a storm drain

Hmmm. Not sexual. And boring as hell until the end. Then it got brutal. I think I'd better give up.

Short Answer: I don't think I can. Maybe if I took, like, a few minutes to think. But I'm not a loser!

Thursday, March 30, 2017

Question: What's that awful smell?

I've never answered this exact question, but as you can imagine, I've dealt with smell before. Here's one from earlier this year that I think is particularly inspired:

And another from 2015:

(At some point, this is all my blog is going to be. Just referencing other times I've basically answered the question. I guess I'm going to have to start putting more value into crazy questions, rather than skewering the people who try them, and calling them knobs, twits and...what's another insult I rarely use?

Top Ten Old-Ass and Underused Insults

10) Gnashgab - Tamer than it sounds, it's just someone who likes to complain. Usage: "My wife is such a gnashgab. It was only in up to the first knuckle."
9) Driggle-Draggle - This means a dirty woman or a prostitute, depending on who you ask. Usage: "My wife smells like a driggle-draggle."
8) Fopdoodle - Not so rare, as most of us know what a fop is. Fopdoodle is essentially a foolish person. Usage: "My wife refers to my penis as a fopdoodle when she thinks I'm not paying attention. Let's see how much pee we can douse her with before she wakes up."
7) Bedswerver - Thanks, Shakespeare! A bedswerver is an adulterer/adulteress. Usage: "My wife is only a bedswerver for African-American gentlemen."
6) Dew-Beater - Technically means a really big shoe. (If you read that in a Johnny Carson voice, you're old.) Also used to refer to a clumsy person. Usage: "My wife calls me a dew-beater when I'm trying to stick it in, but I'm not sure if I should be insulted, or if she's hinting that I fuck her with a clown shoe."
5) Gillie-Wet-Foot - Specifically a servant who carries a chief over a stream, it became a derogatory term for a man who possesses any number of unsavory behaviours, such as one who cons, one who welches on debts or one who is sucks at being rich. Usage: "My wife uses the phrase gillie-wet-foot incorrectly. I think she's trying to get me to fuck her with a shoe."
4) Gobermouch - Someone who's nosy. Usage: "So what if he has big feet? He's just a friend, Keith! Get over yourself, you gobermouch."
3) Muck-spout - One who talks too much, and swears a lot. Usage: "My wife's vagina is a muck-spout."
2) Saddle-Goose - Someone who wastes their time with stupid shit, like saddling a goose. Usage: "You've really fucked this post up, Keith. You had a good thing going, then your examples got wonky and they don't make any sense anymore. And you're quoting your wife? Seriously, if you think anyone is going to read this, you're an idiot, and might I add, a saddle-goose."
1) Scobberlotcher - A person that never works hard, or, who needs a break from work. Usage: "My wife and I are taking a break. Scobberlotcher."

Short Answer: That awful smell is caused by friction, what happens when my comedy hits your brain. Or you're having a stroke. Probably too late to do anything about it now.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Question: When you don't know what to write, then set your mind free.

Due North

Carved shoulders, wet with gripping sickness
footsteps like Jesus in the sand,
squelching momentary proof of passing

And my hand goes to my eyes, for the sun, though it's not sunny
It creeps to my mouth, caressing a beard that's not there
Then leaps back to my side, gripping at my bare thigh, the hairs there

She sloughs the clinging fingers of the water

I could watch the path of every dripping caress
I would slow time if I could
I would kill all the children for only double the moments
I would let the world end for a chance to worship at her curling toes

She smiles the smile of empty passing
Or maybe the smile of intense desire

I have no compass.

Short Answer: Good lesson, though not a question. Fail.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Question: You have to post this on March 27, otherwise, I'm done with reading your blog.

I'm looking everywhere, and I don't see the most important thing, the thing that I need the most. I don't see...a question!

I came very close to posting this tomorrow, to make it clear just how I feel about your non-question ultimatum. But here we are, in the shit, because you forgot the only rule.

That's like going to the bathroom and peeing around the toilet. It's like assuming a clown is benign. It's like brushing your lips.

So, March 27th. Guess that's all I've got to go on. Better be your bloody birthday or some shit.

March 27th, 1350: Alfonso the 11th of Castille dies of the Black Death while sieging Gibraltar. Good sentence, that. Also, too many Alfonsos.

March 27th, 1884: First long distance phone call, from Boston to New York. "This is wicked awesome."

March 27th, 1912: Cherry blossom trees, gifted from Japan, are planted for the first time in America. Washington, DC, specifically. I wonder what America gave them in return?

March 27th, 1958: America declares their intention to explore space. Nerds rejoice. Stanley Kubrick is about to get paid!

There's other stuff that happened, too. Believe it. Funny thing about recorded history is that many, many things are terrible and depressing. Pretty much every single March 27th between 1912 and 1958 was awful. That's right. I picked four good ones, and one of the 'good' ones, was a dude dying of the Black Death.

Short Answer: I saved the best for last. March 27th, 1998: The FDA approves Viagra. I was only one year out of high school, and a couple of years away from meeting my wife. But somewhere, wherever she was, that day, she felt a small, shadow of a pain in her bottom.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

Question: Hi! I've never posted before. I really liked your Saturday song list. Could you do some other kind of list?

I can see that you're new to the blog, because I do lists on a pretty regular basis. Most, if not all, of said lists are about kinds of things. With a little research, you may discover just how vague your request is, and you might want to punch yourself in the dick/vagina over your own stupidity.

I'll allow it.

(Grumbles while trying to figure out what other kind of fucking list he wants to fucking make.)

Top Ten Wedding Blogs of 2001

That's a joke. Hold on.

I've got it!

Top Ten Top Ten Lists You Wouldn't Bother Reading

10) Top Ten Things to See at the Foot of Your Bed in the Middle of the Night
9) Top Ten Celebrities Who Say 'You Know' a lot When They Speak
8) Top Ten Stories of Personal Triumph
7) Top Ten Diseases People Think They Have With Only a Few Common Symptoms
6) Top Ten Lights in the Sky
5) Top Ten Urine Colors
4) Top Ten Game Show Host One-Liners
3) Top Ten Braids
2) Top Ten Ways to Farm
1) Top Ten Dreams

This really just made me appreciate the value of the 'Top Ten' format, because I actually would like to read some of these lists. Even shitty things can have value when organized, so here's a bonus list.

Top Ten Top Ten Lists You'd Totally Bother Reading!

10) Top Ten Somnambulism Stories
9) Top Ten Times Caught Masturbating
8) Top Ten Times Someone Thought You Were a Racist
7) Top Ten Times You Wished You'd Closed Your Eyes in Time
6) Top Ten Post-Workout Penis Shrinkage Moments
5) Top Ten Drunk Pees
4) Top Ten Things You Said That Were Smart By Mistake
3) Top Ten Saturday Morning Cartoon Episodes
2) Top Ten 'Walk Into a Bar' Jokes That are Actually Funny
1) Top Ten Boobs that Look Like Butts/Butts that Look Like Boobs

Short Answer: If I was a magical creature, and I had the time, it would be pretty meta to go on and actually compile each of these lists. I guess someone out there could ask me to do that...and then I'd have to...but that would be a dick move...or would it? (Maybe just pick your favorite and ask me to do that one. It would seriously take me hours and hours to do them all. What else am I doing, you ask? Shut-up.)

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Question: What are the best Saturday Songs?

I don't know what the fuck this means.

Also, I had to wait to answer this until Saturday, which gave me time to do some research, which I didn't do. So now we're in the shit.

Here goes nuffin'.

Top Ten Saturday Songs

10) Saturday in the Park - Chicago
9) Saturday Night - Bay City Rollers
8) 10:15 Saturday Night - The Cure
7) A Roller Skating Jam Named Saturdays - De La Soul
6) Saturday Night Special - Lynyrd Skynyrd
5) Saturday Night at the Movies - The Drifters
4) Almost Saturday Night - John Fogerty
3) Get Down Saturday Night - Oliver Cheatham
2) (Looking for) The Heart of Saturday Night - Tom Waits
1) Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting - Elton John

Short Answer: Pleased with this list. Turned out good. As always, I recommend you YouTube the shit out of it, in order. (I guess I could put the links up, but your fingers aren't broken. Do something, bitch.)

Honorable Mentions: Saturday Night Special - The Runaways, Saturday's Kids - The Jam, Another Saturday Night - Sam Cooke, Someday I'll be Saturday Night - Bon Jovi, Saturday Nite is Dead - Graham Parker and the Rumour.

Friday, March 24, 2017

Question: I got drunk last night and my friends convinced me it was 'cow-tripping' not 'cow-tipping.' Are they a bunch of assholes?

Hilarious assholes.

I don't know what's funnier. Picturing you trying to kick the legs out from under a cow football-kicker style, or picturing you attempting a Mortal Kombat-esque crouching leg sweep.

I hope you didn't actually try this stuff. If I was your friend - which I certainly am not - I would point you toward the YouTube, and specifically some videos where people get knocked the fuck out by cows who don't want to be touched. What they want to be is champion of the world, and they kick head like they mean it.

That's not a video of a cow kicking head. You can find those, too, but I like this video the best.

Short Answer: This whole convincing a drunk person of something dumb is actually pretty funny. What isn't funny is cows fucking people up. If you're too lazy to look up your own shit, here's a link:

But I warn you, there's some full-on violence in here, including a knock-out kick to the dome that sounds like a shotgun blast, as well as a brutal curb stomp. Did you know that cows kill way more people a year than sharks do? Thanks, Jaws.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Question: Share some hate with us. You'e too shiny.

I've never been called shiny before. That's a first.

There's a funny post about hating things.

And there's another. You might think I'm being lazy, and you'd be right, but both of those posts are full of hilarity.

And this is my tenth most popular post. I don't know why. It's not that good.

Short Answer: I'm not that shiny. I hate you.

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Question: Could you write me a poem?

Here's a poem.

I was up all night having diarrhea and I'm not in the mood to write a fucking poem.

That poem was called, 'Fuck Off Thinking You're Important'.

I've got an idea. Why don't you send me a cheque, and then I'll use my most refined skill to do your idle bidding? Make sure it's a big one.

Short Answer: I think I might actually have a diarrhea hangover. It's like a regular hangover, only I don't have fuzzy memories of giving a sloppy blowjob and getting stains on my crewneck.

Note: Okay. Now I feel a bit bad. Here's your poem:

Roses are brown.
Violets are brown.
I spent all night on the toilet.
Get royally fucked, asshat.


Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Question: Three times you've given me terrible advice. Why do I keep coming back?

You're an idiot?

(Just in case this is serious, you know the advice I give is not real, right? That I'm joking?)

Sorry about that interlude. My advice is fucking brilliant. You must be doing it wrong. The key is to follow my instructions - however sarcastic or ridiculous they may seem - to the motherfucking tee.

(This is a humor blog. So I assume people are aware of that when they ask advice.)

Who the fuck is that? Anyway, you're a dolt, listen to me exactly -

(If you have real problems, you might need to see a counselor or - )

I'm a counselor! At least, I'm better than one! And I'm cheaper, and funnier -

(You should probably go. This isn't really about you anymore. Good luck with - )

Oh! Way to make me look like the bad guy! Fuck you, Keith in Parentheses. Fuck! You!

Short Answer: (I think he wore himself out. He seems to be napping. Everyone, run! Find a funnier place with better advice! This madness has to stop! Shit, here he comes. Go!)

Note: Wha...what happened? Did you drug me? He, he fucking drugged me!

Monday, March 20, 2017

Question: My husband keeps telling me that I'm not fat, but I know that I am getting fat. My old clothes aren't fitting properly, and I can see it in the mirror. I know he's trying to be nice, but I want him to stop lying. What can I do?

Maybe he isn't lying. Maybe he just doesn't pay attention when you speak. That's probably a larger problem.

Kinda like how you're a larger problem, now that you're a pig.

Feel better yet?

Here's the deal, happy meal, if you're getting fat and he doesn't give a fuck, that's probably a good thing. When it comes to me and my wife, whenever she shows concern over such things, I tell her the truth. No matter how fat you get, I'm still going to love you. But I'd like for you to be healthy, so you don't die. Creating and eating chocolate sandwiches is fine, but you can't eat chocolate sandwiches in the grave.

Or something like that. Honesty is important, but if you love someone, you don't care if their appearance changes. But you will care about their well-being, mind and body both. So if your husband really doesn't give a shit what you do, he might not love you at all.

Okay. So now you're a porker and you're unloved. I think I've done my work.

Short Answer: People care way too much about their weight and appearance. Don't let media and movies fool you; what you look like doesn't mean shit. Take care of yourself so you feel good in your head, and the rest will be fine. Being mentally healthy is what allows you to handle everyone's shit, including your dumbass husband's. (To answer the question directly, confront liars head on. If your husband isn't lying, he'll protest authentically. Then apologize for being a B, and back that ass up into his face, 'cause he loves your puddin'.)

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Question: What is fear?

Fear is the mind-killer!

This question was asked of me yesterday by a friend. We were getting together to play the Dune board game, and I didn't have time to answer it before I left.

We play it once a year for a friend's birthday. It takes all day, and it's quite an event. Another friend even flew out from Calgary just to be part of the festivities this time around.

Apologies to the question-asker, who we totally screwed over by not explaining an important rule. Bad situation to play a game for six hours and find out you've been missing out on something important. Maybe we should play it more than once a year, so we don't forget things. Hard to get six people together for six-plus hours, even for something as fun as Dune.

Other than that rather large oversight, the game was a good one. The birthday boy almost pulled off a solo victory, which would have been a first. I'll probably keep reminding him how close he came all year, just to keep him humble.

Short Answer: The Calgarian won a hard-fought, allied victory with yours truly, which I thought was appropriate. He did pay to get there, and I hard-cry when I don't succeed.

Friday, March 17, 2017

Question: Nice work on the Fundrive!

'LA Lawn Lawyer! You need to do that deposition but you also have to water the hydrangeas!
LA Lawn Lawyer! You're approaching the computer but because you are a Kings fan, you want to take a wicked slap shot!
LA Lawn Lawyer! This is an actual dream you are having!'

That's called ignoring the fuck out of the question to get something crazy off your mind. I woke up this morning, nestled in the grey half-asleep, and this was occurring.

So what was the question?

Right. There wasn't a question.

Fuck you.


Fuck you.

(We did a telethon-like drive on the radio last night. I did do nice work. Go to: if you want to hear it. Or, go to the website,, to donate. I join the show at around the 30 minute mark.)

Short Answer: You can hear me ( and Jeff ( each and every week on Now We're Talking, at 6 o'clock on CiTR 101.9. All 28 episodes also available on ITunes.

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Question: Between investigation and stalking, where does one draw the line?

Doesn't this question answer itself? It worries me that you don't think it does. There's investigating - because someone is paying you, I assume - and then there's stalking, where someone isn't paying you. The line is paying you.

So if you're jerking off outside someone's window while they undress, you might want to think, who's paying me right now?

The answer is no one. Unless you're a landscaper. Then it's possible the person you're jerking off to is paying you, and that creates an intense and delightful feedback loop that should make your orgasm as intense as if you pressed really hard on your prostate.

Short Answer: This is a side note. I was playing hockey today, and in the dressing room, someone had written, "I fat penis. I eat poo." I was so happy until I realized that the person had just been inconsistent with his uppercase/lowercase decisions, and it actually read, "I Eat penis. I eat poo." I was devastated. (I think maybe I need to create the character of a fat penis that eats poo to soothe myself.)

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Question: What would you like to see in film?

More superheroes?

I kid. We have fun.

I'd like to see more original screenplays getting produced. This year, as an example of the way things have been going, is a shit-smorgasbord of remakes, redoes, re-ups, remakes and sequels.

Other than that? I'd like to see studios leave their creative talent alone to make their visions. How many stories have you read in the last two or three years about studio interference, reshoots and conflicts on set leading to firings (and eventually shitty products)?

Funny that I mentioned superheroes. As example of my point, look at either Fantastic Four or Suicide Squad. Two movies that were peppered with bad reports on set and in post, leading to horrible, life-sucking turds.

Now no-one really knows what goes on, but where there's smoke, there's probably too many chefs in the kitchen. (Does turning one cliché into another cliché make the use of cliché less clichéd?)

Short Answer: More nudity. Boobs, butts, dicks, all of it. And less scenes where someone gets out of bed, dragging the sheet with them to cover their nakedness, something that has never once happened in real life.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Question: Can you give me a top ten list of alternative names for cheese?

Shit, that's weird.


Top Ten Alternative Names For Cheese

10) Udder fudge.
9) Coagulated bug juice.
8) Farm runoff.
7) Squeezey meat.
6) Swollen foot snacks.
5) Mouldmallows.
4) Cultured cow guts.
3) Breadfriend.
2) Salty pudding.
1) Mouthfucker.

Short Answer: I blew my load on udder fudge, methinks.

Monday, March 13, 2017

Question: I picture you as a freakishly tall Hobbit. Am I close?

I'm not sure if I should be insulted. I'm pretty sure I'm not freakishly anything. Do I really sound freakish? I thought I sounded like a coquettish, be-mini-skirted, dumpling of a lady.

Let's see here. I don't have overly hairy feet, and I'm average-ish height. What else are Hobbits known for? I don't bring rings to specific places, and I don't live in a hole in the ground. I'm not particular British and I don't have dwarves showing up unannounced.

My best friend is a wizard, but I suppose that's not common to Hobbits in general, just the one.

It's interesting to think about how one is perceived, especially through writing. Do I sound like I have a unibrow? Like I have long balls? Like I'm an albino? Like I have a tattoo of lips kissing my right shoulder? Are all of these true? None of them? One, perhaps?

Short Answer: I'm a little bit tall. And maybe I look a little bit like a Hobbit. Though, I think I look more like a long dwarf.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Question: How would you please your Master?


This one feels super loaded, so I think I'll sidestep.

I'm not really the mastering type. I'm more the kind of person who would refuse to do anything that anyone tells him to do, even to the detriment of his own well-being.

Is anyone else creeped-out by the capital letter on Master, here? What the fuck does that mean?

The only thing humans should master is their own emotional reactions, so they can propagate the good stuff, and fend off the bad. Mastering someone else seems like a pretty bad idea. People should be able to do what they want.

But what if they want to be mastered? you ask. First of all, shut-up. This is my blog. Secondly, do what you want. Be happy. Just don't tell anyone else how to live their lives.

Short Answer: Ever think that life would be super easy if we all just followed a few guidelines? This whole honor system thing is not working out; people keep fucking it up. (In case you're in the group fucking it up, let me make it clear. Don't tell people what to do, and don't do shit to people if they don't want it done to them. It's not that hard. Compassion, fuckers.)

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Question: Won't you tell me how you gets the sexy on?

I'm not sure if by sexy you mean the romantic stuff or the doing it while saying unghhhh stuff, so I'll address both.

My go to move for the set-up is to ask my wife if she has a headache, and if her hair is clean. This is a pretty early ploy, even before supper, so she has no idea what's going on, and can't pull out later. (I do the pulling out in this relationship, mister!)

The next move is to lay in some subtle hints. I'll say things like, "Clothes are dumb" and "Mila Kunis" to get her thinking the right way.

Then I'll feed her something super sexy. Usually lasagna because nothing's sexier than meat and cheese and bread and feeling like you need to take a dump right after eating.

The final move is my best one. It's sitting perfectly still throughout the night, hoping I've introduced all the right elements, and crossing my fingers that it will occur to her that I just might want to have sex tonight.

If she kisses me goodnight without suggesting intercourse, I'll try to make an expectant puppy dog face. The days that I'm lucky, she notices this face. Somehow, she finds it un-interpretable, and asks me, "What?"

Then we have a fight.

Short Answer: If we have sex at all, it's short, greased by tears and full up with regret.

Note: It occurred to me to give a real, honest answer for this question, but I decided my actual sex life is far too boring and typical for a blog entry. Unless you like women who, after sex, say things like, "Nice rogering, sister" than my bedroom stuff is not for you.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Question: You are not God's gift to spelling?

Hmmm. Not sure what to make of this. If it was a statement, I suppose I could refute. There's a spellcheck on every single thing we do, these days, so to spell something incorrectly, you have to misspell the word into another, real word. So I don't think there are many spelling errors on this blog. Especially not per word.

Also, if you are trying to criticize me, fuck you. Where's your blog? How fast do you produce mind-blowing, laugh-out-loud, make-your-mother-less-proud-of-you content?

Because sometimes, along with speed comes errors and an overall lack of satisfaction. Or so I've been told.

Now, if this was a question, and not just an insult with a question mark stapled to its rear-end, I guess my answer has to be more complicated.

If you thought I was, and now you're disillusioned because you caught a spelling error on blog, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I am not God's gift to spelling. I make mistakes, just like everyone else, including God himself. Like the mistake of making you, if in fact you wrote this so-called question just to insult me and be a dick. Or if you prefer a kinder god, the mistake of giving you reasonably-sized genitals when you have the heart of a person with much less impressive genitals.

That's right. You have small-dick-heart. Or, I suppose, gaping-pussy-heart.

Short Answer: I do tend to underuse/overuse hyphens, which are technically spelling errors. If you want to get technical, that is. And if you do, go away.

Note: Reading over this, I caught a your/you're that was wrong. Shit.

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Question: I like when you say you're having sex with people's mothers, wives and siblings. Could you give me a taste?

Fuck you.

I didn't get much sleep last night. I couldn't fuck your mom right now if she paid me double.

Seriously, go fuck yourself. I can't just zing you if you want it. Unless I zing you in a different hole than you were expecting, but that's not cool. Even I wouldn't do that. Especially not to your sister, because she's way too good at sucking dicks.

Who else? Your wife? Yea. I fucked her too. Then I peed on her. 'Cause she's an idiot. Fuck her.

That good enough? what I said to all of them. They said, "Fuck yeah. Even though you're tired, and you had to stuff your soft, uninterested penis up inside us with your thumbs, it was still the best rogering we've ever received over the internet."

Short Answer: Fuck you.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Question: Doing anything special for International Women's Day?

My anniversary was just a few days ago. So, here are the three things I did in advance of International Women's Day, to show that I cared about women, and my wife in particular.

1) I went out to a restaurant, even though going out to restaurants makes me shit my knickers.

2) I returned home and made brownie cookies. Yes, that's a thing.

3) During coitus, I asked if she wanted to switch positions. She said yes, and I didn't hit her.

Short Answer: Go ahead! Take offense! I'll continue to not hit women, no matter what you say!

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Question: To me, your sense of humor lends itself to comic strips. Can you draw? You should do a comic for us.

Funny you should say that, mate.

I've often thought the same. Problem is, I can't draw very well. My entire family have visual art talent, but it skipped me. I got a big dong instead. What a bother.

One day, I was hopped-up on codeine, and I thought, "Now's the fucking time!" and I went for it.

Today, a special post. My one attempt at doing a comic strip. I give you: AfterGlow!

Short Answer: After this level of genius, how could I not retire?

Bonus Drawing:

Monday, March 6, 2017

Question: I wanna know what love is. I want you to show me.

Ah, a lyric question.

I think I said this last time, but I've decided that these song lyric questions (though question mark-less) are sent by the same person. I appreciate your angle, and the freedom it allows me.

I also picture you as a curvaceous blonde with a bobbed haircut, long lashes, brazen blue-eyes and an overall level of fitness that I would find exhausting. Let me know in the comments if I've got it figured out, and where you'd like me to plough you.

This song lyric is from the song I Want to Know What Love Is by the band Foreigner. Foreigner also wants to feel what love is, and knows you can show them.

I bet there's very little I could teach about love to a famous rock band, as they've ploughed women in all locations.

Ploughing as a sexual euphemism - my wife's favorite - is great because it implies a certain level of freshly disturbed dirt. That takes a lot of the pressure off, especially in the friction-induced flesh shavings area.

Anywho, this song is for losers.

Short Answer: I like this sort of schlock. Is this yacht rock, or just a ballad? Is it a power ballad? Is it soul music? Being confused about genre is a large part of musical enjoyment for me. That's why when I'm playing music to accompany the aforementioned ploughing, I have to go really simple. A go-to of mine is I've Been Working on the Railroad as performed by Raffi. Then I can focus on anal...all the live long day. Post it!

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Question: What advice do you have for the minds behind the current DC Universe films?

First, this:

That's for the people who might get a kick out of me thinking that Suicide Squad was going to be good, and that the studio was going to leave David Ayer alone to make it work. Obviously before we found out all the crazy shit that went on, with all the 'six weeks to write a script' bullshit and the re-shoots and the whole giving a trailer company a chance to make a cut of the film.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Hire a creative with a vision, and leave them the fuck alone to make their movie! All this studio interference to set up extended universes is pointless if the movies are so shitty that the extended universe can't come together. Plus, the consistent flaws in the Marvel films - minor in scale as they may be - are because of all the set-ups for following movies. Yes they can be fun, but they hurt the standalone stories a little bit. That's fine if the movie is great to begin with, but those scenes in Batman-Martha-Superman were total garbage because they interrupted the pace and arc of a mediocre film.

Short Answer: Ayer's Suicide Squad has become the example of what not to do. I hope DC is paying attention.

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Question: How do you see this whole thing playing out?

Top Ten How I See This Thing Playing Out

10) Resorting to some sort of long, metal tube, like the one that the plumber uses to unclog your drain.
9) A re-enactment of the Hindenburg disaster with a Sobey's bag full of dog poop.
8) The Carol Burnett show on loop until we don't like funny.
7) The Devil going down on the elephantine penis of a prostitute named Georgia.
6) A bunch of us getting sucked under the wheel on the Price as Right, sending a chowder of blood and bone pieces into the waiting contestants. Then, a guy wiping detritus from his eye sockets and saying, "One dollar" in a calm, collected voice.
5) Teletubbies gettin' fucked up by ninja turtles.
4) A redheaded woman, beautiful and voluptuous, revealing that the curtains don't match the drapes, unless - up close - the hair on her head is just painted tarantula legs.
3) Wallace and Gromit circle jerk.
2) A gourmet meal containing the ground-up remains of all the guests first ever pet.
1) A love story between a jittery, neurotic clown and a freshly painted fire-hydrant, with full-on, public anal.

Short Answer: There's an autobiography title for you: Keith, Full-On Public Anal.

Friday, March 3, 2017

Question: If someone wrote a biography about you what would you want it to be called?

I try to be original, and I don't like repeating myself, but one of my go-to jokes is to hear a funny phrase and claim, "That's the name of my autobiography." Lotsa people make this joke or one like it, so you'll understand my pain when this question is asked, and I wish to god I had the memory to recollect all the awesome ones from over the years.

Sadly, I don't remember if I'm wearing a shirt unless I look down. (And I'm afraid to look down because often there's a naked wiener staring back up at me. Sometimes, he looks angry.)

Let's try and capture some new magic, shall we?

My Biography/Autobiography:

Keith, Things Said On the Toilet
Keith, Dreams From My Father's Son
Keith, Yardwork
Keith, I Know Who Gave the Caged Bird Herpes
Keith, I Am Malala
Keith, EatPrayLoveSpacing
Keith, A Life in Two Sessions a Day
Keith, Bathroom Confidential
Keith, A Beautiful Set of Oblong Nuts
Keith, Into the Suburban Apartment
Keith, Thinking You're Smarter Than Everyone While Touching Your Own Bumhole
Keith, I Was Shakespeare Before Shakespeare Was Cool
Keith, Fingersmith
Keith, Pirate of Squeeze
Keith, Doing the Interrupting
Keith, I'd Do it For Less Than That
Keith, Tired of Opinions
Keith, Do The Intelligentsia
Keith, Trickle Down Impregnation
Keith, Music That My Face Makes
Keith, Accumulated
Keith, Short Walk From Freedom
Keith, The Day I Realized I Was a Woman
Keith, Up to the Knuckle
Keith, Good Grief and the No-Goodniks
Keith, I'm Your Huckleberry
Keith, The Strain of Ambition
Keith, Women I Imagined Boning: Volume One
Keith, A Life in Boobs
Keith, Right Coast, Left Coast, Red Fish, Biography
Keith, I Could Take a Dick
Keith, The Time I Sucked For Thirty Years
Keith, It's Only Half-Way In
Keith, If Books Could Kill
Keith, Did Anybody Hear That?
Keith, Killing at Home
Keith, Horse Aids
Keith, The Time I Held Your Hand and Farted

Short Answer: Keith, I Could Pretty Much Do This Forever

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Question: Today is World Book Day! How's about that?

I had to look this up and make sure it was. Boooo for skipping the line with your topical question.

My wife - who is off today and has significant breasts - just suggested I write about my Favorite Book to Swat Your Wife With. This implies a level of violence in our relationship that only exists when she's ploughing me with Big Red. (That's a dildo. It's not that big. But it is that red. I wanted to call it Clifford: The Big Red Dildo, but my wife always has to shorten everything, like the way my penis shortens from erect to soft when she straps that bitch on.)

What was I talking about?

So I asked her: "What's the best book to swat your wife with?" She instantly answered: "Watership Down. Because it's doubly sad. And you also think it's going to be soft because it's about bunnies. But it's not."

Then I said: "Well, you're on today. Got anything else to say?"
Her: "I was gifted these pickles."

Short Answer: "Do you want to do the short answer too? You've done the rest." Her: "No."

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Question: Your blog is back after offending someone enough to spark complaint, how does it feel?

To be clear, this is about Facebook. My blog never went anywhere, as those of you who read directly from here can attest. The page I use to post links to the blog on Facebook was shutdown.

After the page was unpublished, I was given no explanation, which was frustrating. Turns out, they mechanically shut me down for 'negative user feedback' which could mean just about anything. My post from January 20 is the suspected culprit, because the question is written to sound like a girl looking for sex, which could be considered spam by those who aren't familiar with my format.

Anyway, seems okay now. They ignored my appeals until the automated one month suspension expired, then gave me that brief explanation. Now that I see how easily it can happen, and how quickly their 'machines' take over, I'm surprised it hasn't happened before.

It's nice to have a mini-comeback, but my hopes are not high. Now that I know this can happen arbitrarily, I am attempting to relinquish my false sense of control. One man's idea of injustice is nothing against a social media gargantuan.

Short Answer: I wish they'd heard my appeals immediately. It would take no time at all for human eyes to see I don't break their precious rules. That's something they should improve, but they don't have to, because they've got us all by the virtual balls.

Note: Just realized I kinda dodged the spirit (as I interpret it) of the question. I understand that offense can be taken, but it is not my intention to offend. My intention is to entertain. If someone is offended, that's fine, but I don't know why they'd bother to complain. (I actually don't think that was the case, here. I think I was flagged for spam, but I understand what you're getting at.) I don't feel any sense of accomplishment for being controversial enough to get a slap on the wrist. I'm just trying to be funny. If you don't like it, leave me alone. Don't waste time bugging me about it, or fucking with my life by complaining. I would extend the same courtesy in a similar situation.