
The key to a happy marriage has always escaped me.
Apparently the clitoris is an actual thing.
Go figure đ¤ˇââď¸

The key to a happy marriage has always escaped me.
Apparently the clitoris is an actual thing.
Go figure đ¤ˇââď¸

âYour test results are positive,â the doctor said as he sat grimly behind his desk.
I took a deep breath. âWhat does this mean?â I asked.
âYouâre perfectly healthy. Not a damn thing is wrong with you. You are going to live a very, VERY long life.â
I sighed.
âThis is terrible news doc.â
THE END

âHow could you have married him? You promised youâd wait for me!â
âBecause Iâm gay?â I told her đ¤ˇââď¸
THE END

Now I do have to breathe like everyone else
But I walk around with a mask and oxygen tank.
I donât breathe the same fart-tinged air that you all do. Thatâs disgusting.
But there ainât nothing that a deep breath canât fix.
Pissed off in traffic? Take a deep breath.
Standing at the ATM when someone puts a .22 to your back? Breathing can fix that.
Got an itchy trigger finger in Home Depot and want to take your frustrations at the world out on yourself or others? Just breathe.
Everything will be alright.
If things get REALLY bad, just shut the garage door, turn on the car, then sit back and relax đ
So calm down, chill, be cool đ

Itâs never a good idea to drop acid around Halloween. But definitely make an exception for Highway To Hell (1991)
Is it funny?
Not really.
But then again, Iâve never laughed before.
Yet where Highway to Hell lacks in being funny, it makes up for in imagination. Itâs certainly a more enjoyable journey through hell than say What Dreams May Come. (Hellraiser II slams as well)
Honestly, I donât remember the plot. Something to do with Kristi Swanson getting kidnapped by a cop from hell and her boyfriend attempts a rescue. Ben and Jerry Stiller make an appearance. So do Lita Fordâs boobs.
But what makes this movie stand out (other than Lita Fordâs boobs) is itâs eclectic mix of genres and lack of fucks given.
The special effects are mostly shit, but who cares? Obviously they were trying and they get an easy A for effort.
Kids forget, but there was a time when people actually tried to make memorable films. Even when they are clearly taking the piss out of you itâs a more engaging experience than most Oscar bate thatâs trotted year after year nowadays.
Hell, modern schlock sucks too. Just a bunch of dorks behind a computer throwing âspecial effectsâ on the screen like thatâs supposed to be impressive. They donât care anymore. As long as it makes $11 trillion at the box office, everythingâs fine.
So shout out to Highway to Hell (and to Lita Fordâs boobs)

âWhat are you going to say now James? That youâve never walked a step in your life?â
That is correct.
But I get the appeal.
And Iâm not talking about âhikingâ or âspeed walkingâ. Thatâs some white people bullshit.
Iâm talking about walking in a straight line on a flat plane. Itâs great: putting one foot in front of the other, just wondering aimlessly because youâve got nowhere to go because youâre unemployed and your kids wonât talk to you.
Nothing beats it.
Except for black tar heroin.

Of course, Iâve never slept before.
But YOU should sleep more.
Itâs really the only thing worth living for.
(I seriously wasnât trying to rhyme there)
Think about it: you donât have to do anything. Just lay there.
Why itâs so hard for people to do, Iâll never understand. Thereâs probably something wrong with you tbh.
Itâs like weâre so conditioned to do something all the time. Fuck that noise. When you get an opportunity to do nothing, take it you freak!
âđ But I canât sleep! I always got something on my mind đâ
Thatâs called having a brain dumbass. Everybodyâs got one. And your brain donât work because you donât sleep.
So let me help you.
Ever tried having a pill addiction?
Problem solved!

I ainât gonna lie.
I did exactly what I wanted to do for nine straight years: drink in excess.
So itâs hard for me to say that I regret nearly a decade of my life. There were some great fucking times.
But were there regrets? Situations I couldâve handled better? People I couldâve been nicer to?
Oh yeah! You bet!
The truth is, where I came from, I overstayed my welcome. A good friend told me, for my own well-being, that he better not see my face in these bars ever again.
He meant it.
I never returned. Never spoke with him again.
Some things are meant to be forgotten.
But I canât help but think: do all my old friends hate me? Do they think about me as much as I think about them?
I suppose that we all separated for the better. It just nags me that there are those I spent years with, whose lives instantly got better once when I left.
Of course my life got better too when I left them.
Maybe Iâm just overstating my self importance.
Maybe itâs hard for me to accept that time is gaining on me.

Ooooo, so youâre a âcar guyâ eh?
You must think youâre so cool.
Well guess what buddy?
Iâm swinging 5 inches exactly (4 3/4 inches specifically, FULLY hard).
You know what REAL men are into?
SWORDS

Shane by Jack Schaefer is good.
Not great. But good enough.
The film is clearly more influential (Iâve probably seen it, but Iâve drank a lot since then). Clint Eastwood was inspired by it. Thatâs obvious in Pale Rider, but Unforgiven has some echoes of it. Logan was also heavily under its influence but I donât watch that kind of shit.
Iâm intrigued by the subject of reality meeting myth. Which is why itâs high time for the book or film be updated into a âneo-westernâ, or whatever buzzword the kids are using, albeit with a more pessimistic ending.
The story is told from the perspective of a kid. And when we think of our childhood, we recall the magical times we had. But when we think objectively about it, we miss all the fucked up shit around us.
Remember that cool neighbor that would let you shoot his Glock? He was a registered sex offender.
Of course none of that occurs to you because you assume everyone is nice and pure.
Now Iâd never write an updated version of Shane, Iâd instantly lose interest. But maybe someone with more discipline would be willing to put pen to paper.
I imagine a story set during the Great Depression or some shit, where banks are harassing farmers and threatening to take their land. Then a mysterious stranger with a dark past comes into town and befriends a family.
The boy is instantly taken by the stranger. The father is handicapped in some form or fashion, unable to tend to his land properly, so the stranger steps up. The boy eventually begins to look up to the stranger more so than his father.
Then, of course, the banks and henchmen come in, threaten the townsfolk, blah blah blah…we all know the story: Shane essentially sacrifices himself, his death is ambiguous, and he achieves mythical status in the town.
But Iâd like to see a more pessimistic conclusion. And as I think about it, my ending sort of resembles that of Blood Meridian: decades later, like the 1960s, the boy runs into Shane, very much alive, but the truth about him is revealed. Shane was nothing more than a drunken murderous hitman who actually cuckholded the father.
Naturally all of this went unnoticed by the boy, now a man, but he chooses instead to remember that summer as a magical time when a stranger came into town.
Iâm sure that story has been told a million times. But good stories are worth retelling.
Of course I ainât retelling it. Iâve got fart and cum jokes to write.