I didn't want to spend too much time on a question today, as I'm trying to fit this in while my friend is in the shower, before I try to fit my penis into his bum. It seems a little disrespectful to take someone's hard-mulled-over attempt at a question and treat it with disdain.
Oh wait. That's the entire premise of this blog.
Still, I choose this instead, because I am in control and you are not. How does it feel? Your life is a runaway train, and you're an unattractive prospector, having your prostate destroyed by the rutted, over-travelled road as you bounce around trying to keep the reins while your ill-suited cart falls apart beneath you.
Now that I've established dominance, I'd like to share a treat.
My friend referred to testicles as 'racoon elbows' the other day. I don't think it's overstating a fact to reveal that my life is now complete.
Short Answer: Things are going well. Record stores were wandered through, beers were bought by the box load and we watched Night of the Creeps and Slither back to back. Those are two movies about penis-like slugs. Soon, I think the swordfight will commence. (He doesn't know I've been practising!)