Don't tell me I never gave you any beauty advice!

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THIS!

Bye, guys. :(


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Two works of art!

Penis chandelier!  WIN!


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It's a butterfly! It's two chicks lavishing love on a penis! It's a Penisfly!

(Via Ugliest Tattoos, an awesome new website, BTW.)

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Yes, I'm fucking old.

I fucking LOVE this:


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I assume this is casting from the new film (which I haven't fucking seen yet, damn all of you who have).

I've always like Ryder. And, while I'm talking about it, how the fuck cum she rocks that short hair style, looking all cute and hip, and when mine was short I just looked like a gaunt, flabby, old MAN?

*sigh*

Hygiene product WIN!

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Must get some of this for Bodog. I'll bet he'd even let me help wash those suckers for him!  Mmmm ... nuthin' like a sweet-smelling ballsack.

Does anyone have the proper translation for this?

I'm coming up with "egg-shampoo for men of the best age" (???)

I wonder why they'd use 'egg' instead of 'testicles'? Perhaps it's such a common slang term in German (like huevos in Spanish)?

Best crafty shit EVAR!

OK, I am addicted to this craft site.

Bwahahahahah!

I'm a fine artist, crafter, and graphic designer (more of some and less of others *koff*funny t-shirts*koff*) and so I am kinda into all things creative. But, I must admit that, while I acknowledge the skill and talent that goes into many crafts that my online mates Tweet or blog, a lot of them leave me cold.

Cutesy wootsy just doesn't do it for me.

Then I found Craftastrophy.

Monkeys give me the screaming creeps, and monkey toys - articularly sock monkeys - make me retch. Then I met Mr Johnson:

What a swell pal! (and a nice package!)

bored, bored, bor--- ohh ... teh internetz!

Fuck. I got nuthin' for ya.

I'm just sitting here Twittering and imagining me, Dane Cook, and Zachary Quinto in a sweaty, writhing threesome.

Can U say NOM?

*drool*

Do you think Zach would let me call him Sylar (as in "Oh, god, Sylar! Oh ... god!")?  I'll bet Cook would let me call him whatever I fucking wanted, LOL!

What? Bodog is away and I'm bored.  All chores and no penis makes Blue a baaaaaaaad girl.

*v. evil grin*

EDITED to add: Dane has shaved his goody trial for that pic, hasn't he?  That just blows. I love a nice goody trail on a bloke. Zach's is positively perfect ...

*pauses to get hold of self*

*ahem* ANYway, just wanted to say: sucks to the shaving. I likes me some fuzzy. If you're Wookie-esque then trim, but otherwise, let me see a bit of fur, man.

Blue's annual St. Patrick's Day Rant

I don't have a bit of Irish in me (If we were talkin' Denis Leary or Dylan Moran then I'd LIKE some Irish in me. Heh.) but I have a passion for History and a raging hard-on over Grammar and that has blended into an absolutely blinding fuck fury over the now common idiotic fuck debacle that is "St. PaTTy's Day".

Fuck, no!

Lemme say it again; FU-HUCK NO!

Right, pay attention. I'll type slowly. The saint's name was PADRAIG. That's "Patrick" in Irish. He's a fucking Irish saint. The proper diminutive of PADRAIG is PADDY.

Pee. Ae. DEE. DEE. Wye. PaDDy.  Say it with me: "PADDY".

Here's the St. Patrick's Day Wikipedia site if you don't believe me.

So DON'T tell me that it's 'Patty' because his name is 'Patrick'. Use your fucking head.  I don't know of ANY adult male Irish American who would cotton to being called "Patty" (yes, they are pronounced differently, doltard).  As a matter of fact he'd probably come across yer arse w' his shillelagh (or would YOU write "she-lay-lay"?)

DON'T tell me it's "the American version". No, dumbarse. That's saying that we Americans are too STUPID to know it's St Paddy. NOT true. Do we call 'Cinco de Mayo' the "Fifth of May-o"?  No we don't. It's a fucking Spanish-language holiday, we write and (hopefully) pronounce it correctly in Spanish.

Oh, and DON'T fucking tell me (as some arsewad did) that writing Paddy would be celebrating Irish racial insult day. Do what?  Didn't that go out about 1940? Should we also not call any Irish American "Mick" if his name is Michael cuz that's an insult too?  Fuck off. Lame argument.

Conclusion: Folks who write St. PaTTy's Day are ignorant. Sorry, it's true. Folks who know the correct form and still use the wrong one probably spell "voila" as "wa-lah!" and should have their carbon recycled so the rest of us can use it.

For next year, here's a shirt for you lovely folks who know it's St. Paddy's Day:

-----

Whilst I'm sat here on my fat arse bitching, let me ask: what the shiny Blue Fuck is THIS shit? Sci Fi channel changing it's name to SyFy? What dumb cunt of a PR guru thought of this shit? This is just fucking TWIGI!

I mean, it looks dopey as hell and screams "ignorant" as loudly as seeing that kid in the forum whose nick is PrincezzRavynFaerie or HaxxorzzGod. Also, why fuck change it if there's nothing wrong with it?

Is this the new trend like the fucking baby name ass-hattery currently going on?  "Oh, it's pronounced just like 'Kennedy' but we spell it 'Kinnydeigh' so she would be unique."  Well guess what, Jane, you ignorant slut? Ignoring the fact that your child is already unique, your wee princess is gonna hate your dumb arse in years to come as she will have to spell and re-spell her name all her fucking LIFE. Not to mention that in every class for her entire education her name will be called identically to 7 other poor little girls-with-boys-names shits whose moms thought a name in the top 25 most popular baby names would be "cute".

Right.  I got toally off topic there, didn't I?  Must calm down. Perhaps I'll drink a wee bit o' JD in celebration of what a friend of mine on Twitter calls "National Get Drunk and Party Day".

And to end on a fucking good note; for those of us who like a bit of thrust *ahem* is this not fucking awesome or WHAT?  Srsly, my breath catches in my throat just looking at it.

(Via Twitter credits given as: NASA/Rusty Backer, George Roberts)

In case you're bored here's more snarky, funny St. Patrick's Day t-shirts, and science geek / science teacher tees.

EDITED to add: Blimey, but I'd love someone famous like Denis Leary, Dylan Moran, or, oh, Conan O'Brian to grab this topic (and maybe even this blog post EeeEE!) and tell America on AIR how ignorant saying/spelling St. Patty's Day is.  Get yer (intelligent) Irish on!

Happy steak and a blow job day!

It's March 14th!  Steak and a Blow Job Day!

Valentine's day is for guys to show their gals how much they love them. Everybody knows that. But what about the blokes?

(Leaving off the obvious: that women spend 365 days a year cooking that special food you love; cleaning your house; washing, folding and putting away your laundry; worrying about your health and how fast you drive; and patiently listening to you vent about your day, your boss, and politicians and/or sport figures.  Plus, all that time, probably holding down a job ourselves, having sex (with you), and perhaps even raising your children. But I'm not gonna mention any of that.)

Well, today's their day!  It's Steak and a Blow Job Day;

So, as I love both steak and sausage, this makes today one of my v. fave holidays!

So, go give your guy hummer.  Maybe he'll actually manage to drop his underpants IN the hamper rather than a foot and a half away.

Nahh, I don't have much hope of that, either.

Today's funny

I would LOVE to have this sign in my house. This made me LOL. :D


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Holy Bouncing Boobies Batman!

The Bounceometer.

Go on, you know you wanna click it.

It's funny but also a bit painful to watch if you're a boob owner.  I srsly need one of these. 

(For the record and the general information of teh internets, Blue's bra size is 38DD)

Fountain of joy!

I WANT ONE!


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Hahahahahahah!

lolstupidz

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Hey, did ya ever think that maybe it's not supposed to be "Diva Gina"?

Perhaps she IS "D'vagina".  The one and only vagina!  The top cootch!  The pussy princess!  Le snatch!  (le meilleur vagin?)

OK ... now I'm making myself laugh.

Protect your local sex dolls!

OK, this just made me fucking laugh - Australian man breaks into adult shop to have sex with blow-up dolls.

"SYDNEY (Reuters) – An Australian man broke into three adult shops, had sex with blow up dolls named "Jungle Jane" and then dumped his plastic conquests in a nearby alley, local media reported on Wednesday.



"It's totally bizarre. It's a real concern that someone like that is out on the street," said one of the owners of the adult sex shops in Cairns in northern Queensland state.


"He has been taking the dolls out the back and blowing them up and using the dolls and leaving them in the alley," the owner, who gave the name of Vogue, told the Cairns Post newspaper (www.cairnspost.com.au).


Police told the Cairns Post that scientific officers had taken DNA samples, fingerprints and pictures of the crime scene."

Say, isn't the phrase "adult sex shops" redundant?

HamPenis = Happiness?

Alternate title: "Does Blue have the 'nads to post this on her Diet Blog?" (NOT!)


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Ham fail?  I think not!  This is a Ham Epic Win!

It would totally fuck my diet though.  I'd eat every piece in one sitting.

Mmmm, penis. NOM!

RIP Eartha Kitt

Bodog lamented last night: "Why are all the hotties dyin'?"

Cuz they don't make women like this anymore:

THAT is sexy right thurr.

Also, for the record, Yzma is one of my very fave Disney characters EVAR.  Yzma rawks!

"That is the last time we take directions from a squirrel"

Best fucking lolceleb evar?

Via icanhascheezburger.com's roflrazzi.com

ZOMG! Hahahahahahahah!

RIP Majel Barrett

Majel Barrett has died at 76.

As Nurse Chapel, she stirred the hearts, minds, and trousers of many a lad of that generation:

As Lwaxanna Troi she showed us how a woman can be strong (and weak) and still smart and sexy at "a certain age".

But most of all we'll remember her as the voice of the ship; the smooth, cool, sensuous, voice of the starship Enterprise.

Good luck on that Final Voyage, Majel.  We will miss you. :(

kids say the ...

I just had to share this:

I've been working in my library, putting up shelves and organising books, and my middle son, aged 3 1/2 years, wanders in and exclaims; "Momma, you gots TWO screwers!"

My first thought, was, of course: "COOL!  Daddy and Zachary Quinto?"

Then I looked where he was pointing.

"Oh, no, baby, those are screwdrivers."

ROTFLMFAO

R.I.P. Bettie Page

1950's pin-up queen Bettie Page has died. She was an uninhibited inspiration.

Bye, Bettie, Xmas won't be the same without you. :(

Wow, look at that moon!

Finally.  A news story I can fucking get behind:

Total sexism that they didn't make the male arse the center of the shot!  It does look nice, though.  But, srsly, I'd have to get my hands on it to really tell.  I like a man's arse to have some 'give'.  I like a juicy, malleable arse cheek.  Two buttocks like boulders might appeal to some, but not me.

For comparison, here are some more: the sporting backsides in the wild:

The whimsical bum:

The patriotic arse - oh what a happy, happy flag:

And,IMHO, one of the pemier buttockular regions in all of Hollywood *drooooool*

Now THAT'S a juicy grippable arse!

Unbelievable voter stupidity

What the Blue Fuck?

This is like those stupid fucks who vote straight ticket.  NO!  Actually find out what folks think and how well they will represent you before you vote.

What sort of person would vote for someone because he was black or a woman or from his hometown or gay or of the same religion?  Just because Hillary Clinton (or Sarah Palin for that matter) have pussies, doesn't mean they can represent me, person-with-cootch, properly.  As a matter of fact, neither of those pussy-bearing bitches can speak for me, subsequently I'd never fucking vote for either of them.

They may have had similar life experiences as me, but that doesn't make them automatic representatives.

Did I say FUCK?

RIP, Paul Newman

Pfucka, Paul!  You will be missed. *sniffle*

Fuck, all the cool old blokes are dying.  We'll finally fucking invent a way to extend our lives and there won't be any cool guys left, just talentless idiots and twinkies.

Politically Correct - yr doin it rong

This just fucking made me ... well, laugh out loud:

Yeah, lolcats site icanhazcheezburger has a NEW site. w00t!

Lots of them are juvenile, some of them are cool as fuck.  For Bodog:

Hahahah!  Evil Genius LOVES William Shatner!

Speaking of Evil Genius, lemme pimp my new sites.  Check 'em out:

Comic Book T-shirts for comic Geeks!

Horror T-shirts for Horror Movie Freaks!

Pirate T-shirts for Pirate Fans!  Arr!

These horror and pirate tees make great Halloween shirts / costumes, too.

Also, don't miss Bodog's new Comic Book Review page specializing in indy and small press and his new Horror Movie Review page, lots of slasher, gore, and b-movie gems here.  Join us!

Art, fine, but fine art?

So I hope all of you raised a glass in honour of George Carlin.

PFUCKA, George! It's not gonna be the same without you.

-----

And now on to the subject of art.

Recently, someone on one of my boards recently posted some really nice pics of his hometown of Oslo. They included sculpture by a bloke named Gustav Vigeland.


Wonderful, powerful, tender works of nude figures - usually families - like the dad above, toting his two babies. Well it sparked a discussion on how that sort of thing wouldn't fly over here and I wondered, as I often do, about why folks have such a problem with the nude, non aroused, human form. Especially in art.

I mean it's fucking art, for fuck's sake! Shit.

Why would a marble tit offend you? Or a bronze penis in repose? Who gives a great flying fuck at the moon? Does a copper cootch (or a plaster pudenda) in a park somewhere affect your lifestyle adversly?

So Vigeland's on my list of faves.

I also like Spencer Tunick, the bloke who poses all the nude people and photographs them. How cool a job is that?

Recently, I re-discovered an artist and learned that he had a decidedly bawdy side. w00t!


He's Aubrey Beardsley of the elegant Art Neuveau style. I had NO idea that he had done mostly erotica. He's definately my kinda artist:


I'm lovin' the little guy on the left!

So, what's your opinion of nudity in art? I'm not talking about Beardsley type stuff that is clearly erotica. I mean just nekkid peoples. Sculpted, painted, photographed, whatever.

Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, tits

George Carlin passed away yesterday.



"Comedian George Carlin, a counter-culture hero famed for his routines about drugs, dirty words and the demise of humanity, died of heart failure at a Los Angeles-area hospital on Sunday. He was 71.

Carlin, who had a history of heart and drug-dependency problems, died at Saint John's Health Center in Santa Monica about 6 p.m. PDT (9 p.m. EDT) after being admitted earlier in the afternoon for chest pains, spokesman Jeff Abraham told Reuters.


Known for his edgy, provocative material developed over 50 years, the bald, bearded Carlin achieved status as an anti-Establishment icon in the 1970s with stand-up bits full of drug references and a routine called "Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television." A regulatory battle over a radio broadcast of the routine ultimately reached the U.S. Supreme Court."

George in one of his typical walking-the-edge routines. The v. end is particularly funny.



"God is one of the leading causes of death. Has been for a couple of thousand years."

RIP, George. We miss you already.

Memorial day thank you

I just wanted to make sure that evey fuckingbody said - at least - a wee "thank you for all your fucking sacrifices" to all the men and women who have sufferd and feared and died to keep us wankers all free.

Thank them, you motherfuckers.

Thank these blokes (and a few birds) who fucking lost their lives to keep America free.

THANK YOU SO MUCH.

Above and beyond

Since I just posted a rant about folks who can't/won't do their fucking jobs, I just wanted to post this about hotel workers who went through the rubbish to recover some guest's lost shit.

"While tidying up their villa as they prepared to leave the park late last week, Paul Campanale dumped a cardboard bowl, not knowing the container inside it held his wife Karen's engagement, wedding and five-year-anniversary rings.

Park employees warned the couple from Worcester, Mass., that recovering the jewelry was all but impossible. So on Friday, the Campanales and their two children loaded onto a Magical Express bus and headed to the airport.

Back at the Wilderness Lodge resort, executive housekeeper Drew Weaver realized that trash from the Campanales' villa hadn't reached the industrial-size compactor yet. He and seven other volunteers donned protective clothing, emptied a parking lot bin and waded through bag after bag of rubbish to find the rings. And they did."

I'm a bit perturbed that there were no gushing thank yous reported from Mrs I'm-A-Daft-Shithead, but perhaps they simply omitted it.

Kudos to these folks from the Wilderness Lodge at Disney. Good on yer!

Say ... why aren't you all over on my forums posting pics of your ass? I wanna seeeeeeee!

We just added the new Blackadder section, as well! Come tell us your latest cunning plan.

The Evil Genius Woman Forums

The Evil Genius Comics Forums (now, with Blackadder!)

For the blokes

I fucking love Rodney Carrington.

Apparently I'm not the only one.

Straight from one of the fucking fabulous bitches over on my new forums.

What?

You didn't know I had forums?!

Well fuck me!

If you're a chick, or a parent of any sex, check out my Evil Genius Woman forums. If you're a comic geek or movie freak, try the Evil Genius Comics forums.

Bear in mind that these forums are brand spanking new, so not so busy yet (although the parenting one already has a passel of fucking brilliant folks on). ALSO bear in mind that if you are one of me mates or one of muh Pussy Posse that there are PRIVATE, uncensored boards within both forums where you can cuss, tell dirty jokes, post pictures of your arse (if you feel so inclined) and generally be yourself.

Note: If I don't know you, don't like you, or your nads smell funny, you are not getting straight into the private sections. But if you're a cool person and genuinely interested in hanging out, please stop buy, introduce yourself and post. Cool people get VIP'd to the back rooms v. quickly.

Come. Come to the dark side.

Convos from hell

Y'all know I have a niggling piece of straw in my underpants about service people who can't do their fucking jobs. Well, I have two short ones more to share:

D'ye recall my tirade about the bitches who answer the phone at my Local Farming-Type Place?

Yup, you guessed it. I had the misfortune to have to ring them again.

Convo number two:

Dumb Bitch: "Hullo"?
Me: "Hey! I was by there the other day looking for a carry-all and y'all had sold the last one. i was wondering if any more had come in?"
DB: "You lookin for Newberry Farming-Type Place or Newberry Farm and Garden Type Place?"
Me: "Uh ... Newberry Farming Type Place"
*silence*
Me: "I was just --"
DB: "And you needed what?"
Me: "A carry-all. It's a piece of 3pt equipment --"
DB: "Well, I don't know nuthin' about that! Ho'd on."

Uhm, so am I the asshole here or what? If you work for a place whose job it is to sell tractors and tractor equipment but knew fuck-all about tractors and tractor equipment, why the Blue Fuck are you answering the phone?!

Next Convo:

OK, my dumb arse did something spectacularly idiotic that same day by running low on petrol a looooong way away from the only reasonable petrol station in the area. Subsequently I had to stop in a teensy nearby asshole of a town where petrol was over 20c more expensive per gallon.

Well, I live almost on a huge, v. popular lake, the shoreline of which is replete with folks who have more money than sense. What evar. But one of the things these denizens of the lake do is they have no prob filling up the old Monster SUV at any convenient station.

So wee asshole-town station was packed with huge I've-got-a-small-penis-but-lots-of-money Dodge Rams and Ford F-250s and one ugly Lexus SUV.

Well, there were two pumps (four slots) and I queued up behind the car at the outermost pump.

Did you hear what I just said?

"Behind the car at the outermost pump"

Was that in any way confusing?

Just checking.

So I go in, grab a diet Coke, and walk up to Whitney Whitetrash behind the counter. I set the Coke on the counter and take a tenner out of my wad o' cash (hah!) and hold it up helpfully.

WW: "Ziss it?"
Me: "Hey! No. I'd also like ten dollars worth of regular, please. I'm behind the guy at the outside pump. In the silver minivan."

It's a teensy place, so I simply point at my minivan. It's about 25 feet away, max, and every other vehicle save the one in front of mine was a pick-up.

She frowns in fine bovine fashion through the big plate glass window.

WW: "Yerrrrrrr ....?"
Me: "Behind the car at the outermost pump. The farthest pump."
WW: (points at the white Lexus SUV in front of my clearly visible silver van) "That car?"
Me: (misunderstanding) "Yep"
WW: "But he's pumping his gas."
Me: "No, I'm behind him. In line. Behind him. The silver minivan."
WW: "So ... you're not actually IN the car ..."

This stumped me so much that I didn't reply. Of course I'm not in the car. I'm standing right here ...

WW: "... the white car?"
Me: "No, no, I'm driving the silver minivan behind the white car."

She frowned out the window again and I was beginning to think the cooling fan on her brain had gone wonkey. Plus I was getting frustrated.

Me: (stepping partway out the door and pointing elaborately) "See the white car? I'm behind the white car. I need $10 worth of regular. (waves ten spot) In the silver minivan behind the white car!"
WW: (petulantly) "OK, ok. I'm sorry!"
Me: "not a probl--"
WW: "I cain't even put it in till he finishes pumping his gais, anyways!"
Me: (to self: Well, duh, honey. I cain't even pull up to the pump till he leaves.) "However works best for you!" (winning smile)

Again, was I just the dumb asshole here? Did she come from a planet that had no knowledge of minivans? Was she colourblind? Had she never been exposed to any of those delightful children's books that explore the spatial relationships of objects? ("The teddy bear is behind the green train!")

Ahh! I've got it! Clearly, I'm so poorly spoken that even the simplest folk have a difficult time understanding me.

Must work on that.

R.I.P, Taylor

Charlton Heston has died.

He's one of my all time faves. So sorry to see you go, mate.

:( :( :(

'LOS ANGELES - Charlton Heston, who won the 1959 best actor Oscar as the chariot-racing "Ben-Hur" and portrayed Moses, Michelangelo, El Cid and other heroic figures in movie epics of the '50s and '60s, has died. He was 84.
The actor died Saturday night at his home in Beverly Hills with his wife Lydia at his side, family spokesman Bill Powers said.'

'Heston revealed in 2002 that he had symptoms consistent with Alzheimer's disease, saying, "I must reconcile courage and surrender in equal measure."
With his large, muscular build, well-boned face and sonorous voice, Heston proved the ideal star during the period when Hollywood was filling movie screens with panoramas depicting the religious and historical past. "I have a face that belongs in another century," he often remarked.
Publicist Michael Levine, who represented Heston for about 20 years, said the actor's passing represented the end of an iconic era for cinema.
"If Hollywood had a Mt. Rushmore, Heston's face would be on it," Levine said. "He was a heroic figure that I don't think exists to the same degree in Hollywood today."'

Rule, Britannia

This is totally fucking cool.

Srsly.

I'll wait. Check it.

....

....

Right, so, does that make anybody else want to immediately go fuck a British fighter pilot? Or a British race car driver?

Or, like, any sexy Brit with a penis and a heroic aspect?

Or is it just me?

Really. Bring me one. I'd totally do him.

(Blimey! Talk about a heroic aspect!) ---->

(The bloke at the top, btw, is Marvel Comics's Blue-would-totally-fuck-him Union Jack created by writer Roger Stern and artist John Byrne. Dead sexy.)

(EDITED to add: that particular bit of artwaork is a composit of Mike Perkins's version of Union Jack [left. dangerous. sexy.] from Union Jack Vol 2, and Scott Kolins's [right. B&D. Mmmmm.] from New Avengers #5. Thanks to Bodog from The Blog Monster for the info!)

Boy on!

Is it fucking possible that Eddie Izzard is just getting fucking sexier and sexier?

(here with Minni Driver)

Must. Netflix. The. Riches.

Here's a cool article on Eddie, America, transvestism, and the new show.

""I've always known that I was a transvestite," he says. "I fancy girls but I'm a wannabe lesbian. But I'm quite happy being a guy too. I don't do a big mental shift if I'm throwing on a dress.

"It's just a side of my sexuality, a side of my personality, a side of myself - and it's complicated. It's there all the time.

"I call it girl mode and boy mode. Like a superhero - like the Human Torch who can go, 'Flame on', and then he's in flames and then he goes 'Flame off', and he's not. In the same way, I can do 'Girl on' and 'Boy on'.""

An anatomy lesson

So, yeah, Armani revealed the new underpants advert featuring footballer David Beckham:

I drooled over it as did all the women and gay blokes that I know. It's a cool advert.

It's David Beckham in his underpants.

Aye, but here's the thing. I happened to glance at the comments left here and was amused at the people who suggested that he'd been Photoshopped.

Hmmm.

See, I'm a wee bit of a penis aficionado (as well you know) and I'm confoozled.

While I'm sure the pic has been 'shopped to correct shading and blemishes and such, I see nothing to suggest that David's naughty bits, his meat and two veg, Vicki's giggle stick and the twins, has been altered.

Looks like a lovely example of standard issue equipment there. I mean, what are these folks looking at? Are they aware of what a man's equipment really looks like? Have they ever actually seen male genitalia from this angle - live and in person - as in this modest version below?

Or have all the examples they've seen been so depressingly small that Mr Beckham looks egregiously large?

(Not that, let me hasten to say, he looks undersized. I'm eyeballing a nice banger there - pun intended - but nothing freakish.)

I think that the doubters of the photo fall into two categories: 1) jealous men, and 2) that most bizarre of females who honestly has no idea what she's looking at here. She's the woman on my baby boards who (alarmingly) is pregnant, will be raising a child here soon, and seriously has no idea of the actual mechanics of conception, pregnancy, and birth. She had no clue as to what a cervix is or that she ovulated at some midpoint between periods. She sincerely believes that pissing into drain opening chemicals will accurately predict the sex of her child and she refers to her genitalia as "down there" and her husband's penis as his "thing".

People, that lovely, large, firm bulge facing the camera is a scrotum (enhanced and supported by Mr Armani's undoubtedly expensive drawers). Mr Beckham's johnson is laid neatly to his right hand side pointing away from the camera.

Bats come with balls. This accounts for most of the mass in most men's shorts. Something along the lines of this:

A purty scrotum is a wonderful thing. Awwwww ... doesn't it make ya just want to pet it?

-----

PS: have ya ever been surfing pictures of penises on the 'nets and come across one and think: "Say ... that looks just like so-and-so's ..."?

OK, it's just me I guess.

Lois Maxwell dies

Miss Moneypenny, you will be desperately missed.

James Bond: "Moneypenny, what gives?"

Miss Moneypenny: "Me, given an ounce of encouragement."

I really should do some Bond t-shirts for the store. What a great fucking series of films (for the most part).

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UDUMASS

OK, yeah, I'd be fucking ashamed to be from Oregon right now.

Oregon DMV spokesmorons Bell and House (nice, safe, white, middle class, anglo-saxon names) twitter on about how these folks' personalised plates UDINK1, UDINK2, etc are offensive because (brace yourselves) 'dink' : "can be treated as a verb, which gives it a sexual reference, and also can be a racial slur targeted at the Vietnamese"

What The Blue Fuck?

It's their NAME, you dumb fucks!

Also, anyone who knows that 'dink' is a sexual reference would think the plate hilarious and I doubt that a Vietnamese person on the planet would think that some random Oregonian family had chosen, of all things, to insult the Vietnamese race via their personalised licence plates!

For fucks sake, people! Does this sound like the boy in Oz who was banned from school because of his name? (Note, I had this bookmarked but apparently the article has 'expired' from Yahoo and i can't find it. Note to self: quote entire articles from now on so they'll live forever on da net.) Anyway, the kid's name was 'Helle' which is a perfectly acceptable German surname.

Dumbest. Case. Of. Censorship. Evar.

Should I send the Udinks one of my new snarky t-shirts?

Wouldn't this one be a great funny t-shirt for wearing to the in-laws' house? Or meetings at work? (EGH needs this one for some of his co-workers. Not all, just a select few.) Ohh, how about political rallies? Great tees for the upcoming presidential election in 2008! Ha! Wear it to vote.

-----

Oh, here's the entire article:

MERLIN, Oregon - The state of Oregon has ordered a family to turn in the vanity license plates on its cars because their Dutch last name, which is written on the plates, is similar to an offensive word.
The plates, UDINK1 UDINK2 and UDINK3 are on the vehicles of Mike and Shelly Udink and their son Kalei. Two of the plates are five and seven years old. One was issued last year.
Last summer, Kawika Udink's application for UDINK4 was rejected and the state ordered that the other three plates be returned.
"DINK has several derogatory meanings," Yvonne Bell, who sits on the Department of Motorvehicles panel that approves vanity plates, told the Daily Courier newspaper.
DMV spokesman David House and Bell said the word can be treated as a verb, which gives it a sexual reference, and also can be a racial slur targeted at the Vietnamese.
House said the "U" in the front could be construed as "You."
The DMV denies requests for any combination of letters and numbers that may be viewed as objectionable, in any language, by use of phonetic, numeric or reverse spelling, or when viewed as a mirror image, or that would alarm or offend a reasonable person.
Intimate body parts or sexual or bodily functions are taboo, as are offensive references to race, color, gender, ethnic heritage, or national origin or to alcohol or drugs or paraphernalia.
The panel's ruling surprised Mike Udink, whose name is Dutch. He says it is a common last name in The Netherlands.
"Since when can a panel dictate whether your name's offensive or not?" asked Udink, a lineman for Pacific Power.
House said the state has the right to censor license plates, because the state owns them

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Nine one one

Just a quickie to remind you to take a second to remember the folks who died during the terrorist attacks of 9/11, and the rescue workers who worked the scene, hospital staff who cared for the wounded and the dead, and all the soldiers who have fought and died to keep us safe and free.

Personally, I fervently wish for every terrorist of any kind, whether religious, political, or just a crazy cocksucker like McFuckVeigh, should die screaming in agony and choking on his or her own blood.

But that's just me.

Would you like some fries with that?

Can you say: "Quit yer whinging, you great Nancy"?

Does this seem like gross overkill to you?

Number one, who the fuck gets sick from salt?

Number two, and the question the chick asked: what moron would continue to eat a burger so laden with salt that it made him sick? What do YOU do when you bite into something too hot, too cold, too salty, too spicy, too greasy, or that tastes too much like a human finger?

You stop eating.

Duh-huh.

This article says that he didn't eat the entire burger and that he insists that there was something else on it that made him sick. Hmmmm.

Does he think she targeted him as a cop? Also, does this all sound to you like the cop suspects her for some other reason (hates women, she's the wrong colour, knows her from somewhere else)?

Or perhaps he has control issues and is using his postiton to hurt someone just because he can.

This article jumps from making the employee sound sinister to implicating the manager (to whom the chick supposedly reported the salty meat).

Honestly, I can say as an ex fast food employee (I worked at both the chain mentioned and it's closest competitor), I have seen managers insist we use meat that had been accidently left out of the freezer, meat dropped on the floor, cooked meat that was WAY old, and burnt patties. All to make their bottom line look good.

*shrug*

Who the fuck knows? It just really seems like a blown-out-of proportion reaction. I'll be interested to see how this one plays out.

Nakedness and cars!

Uhm ... so, yeah.

"The 37-year-old Chicago man was traveling east to Ohio to visit his mother, police said. He was nude and had petroleum jelly on his hands when a state trooper pulled him over about 10 miles from the Ohio line Wednesday, police said."

'Cause I'm all the time driving with Vaseline on my hands.

How about you?

Perhaps he needs to visit the nude car wash.

What we have here is a failure to communicate.

I love my new hometown. I really really do. This area is quiet, rural, friendly, has amenities such as a Stupor Sprawl Mart, a feed mill, a farm center, and is within easy driving distance of my real hometown, the small city of Columbia, SC - which has everything else I might ever need.

But damned if some of the local business owners don't have a habit that irritates the FUCK out of me.

Many of the businesses are family owned (I'm all for that) by the men (erm, not so much) and often will have the female family members answering the phone or running the register. I have no problem with this whatsoever except for three things:

1) Female (or male for that matter) should know how to answer the fucking telephone in a professional manner, know where records are, know how to, for example, give a refund or schedule an appointment or take a fucking message. Bitch, you are answering the phone for a business! I don't give a ferret's asshole if you are fucking the boss's son, you pick up that phone and the convo should NOT go like this:

Dumb bitch: "hullo?"
Me: "Erm, is this Newberry Farming-Type Place?"
DB: "Yeah."
Me: "I'm calling to see if my farming type equipment is ready"
DB: "Uh ... ho'd on."
*sound of receiver being put down - thunk*
*long silence*
DB: "He ain't here."
Me: "... erm ... who?"
DB: (Sounding irritated and bored) "Joe Blow. He ain't here."
(Joe sold me my farming type equipment)
Me: "Ahh, well ..."
DB: (Clearly irritated now) "He's who you need to talk to!"
Me: "Thank you, I'll call back."
DB: "Uh-huh, bye"
*click*


2) Female (or male for that matter) should know what the fuck she's fucking talking about. You work at a tractor place? You should know about tractors, damnit, at least on a rudimentary level. You should be able to identify one in a line-up (Is that it? Is that one? No, Amber-Dawn, that's a Miata, honey.) You answer the phone at a trailer place? You should at least know what sort of trailers they are (Stock trailers? Horse trailers? Flatbeds? What?) You should grasp the basic concept of the business.

And number 3) Female (or male for that matter) should not be a goddamned fucking bitch.

Again, you slag, I don't fucking care if you are the Queen of the Trailer Park and personally and without assistance squeezed each of the people who own the business in question out of your personal vagina after 2 days of labour, each. This still does NOT give you the right to be a rude, condescending, cunt to a customer (that would be ME, ho).

My money is just as good as anyone else's and I'm there at your place to spend it. Quit acting like a fuckhead and squeeze some Customer Service out of that shiny vagina of yours, why doncha?

Ode to my fat arse - an introspection

As any of you who follow my Mommy Blog know, this fucking diet I'm on is kicking my arse.

It's not that I'm not losing weight. This is Blue's (Not) Patented Die-et. It fucking works. It's hard, but it works.

I've lost an incredible amount of weight since I had my last spawn 4 months ago, but I keep hitting these depressing plateaus that ... well, depress me.

So, I'm standing in the spraWl-Mart and contemplating the crowd and wishing - not for the first time - that I had my camera.

Fuck that shite, I'm wishing I had my camcorder.

Anyway, so right there in the check out lines I observe: a very plump young chick with a happy smile and an attentive and handsome male escort; a very broad-behinded mom (think Aunt Fanny from Robots - "Say hello to my dimpled friend!") with her brood of four attractive, slim, and well behaved children, ages six years or so to about mid-teens; and a piece of work.

The piece of work was young (dunno 15-25??) wearing very tight, very low slung jeans that gave me an unappreciated glimpse of her bum-crack at intervals, a black bra that didn't fit her (can you say: "fat bulging out under the arms"?), and what appeared to be a cheap flesh coloured camisole that came nowhere near the waist of her jeans producing a lovely muffin-top effect guaranteed to put you off your feed. She had on dirty flip-flop type sandals and the flared legs of her jeans dragged the ground and were frayed and filthy.

SEXY!

In addition, (in case you were unaware of her sexual status as mattress) she had an ugly green-black Ho Tag. Did i also mention the black bra under a pale coloured spaghetti strap camisole?


So I'm thinking why can't I just fucking be fat? Why do I need to lose weight? My Evil Genius Husband tell me daily that I don't need to lose any (yes, he's a sweetie under that dirty lab coat).

Folks immediately tell me (and often do thank you very much you fucking arsewipes hope you fall in front of an artic*) that i should lose weight for my "own self esteem".

M'kay ... so fat chicks have no self esteem? Or rather shouldn't have, due to them being big tubs o' lard? This line of thinking suggests just that. That overweight women (men have to be morbidly obese to receive this nugget of arse-vice) are somehow not as good as 'normal' women and so should have lower self esteem.

(Gawd I hate that 'self esteem' crap. A person with high self esteem has an inordinately high opinion of himself - he holds himself in very high esteem [back me up here, Mrs. Chili!]. Serial killers have high self esteem. The correct phrase is: a great deal of self confidence.)

But, you say, those three overweight women you saw were UGLY.

Nooooo. If you think they were, then it's because you were raised in a society that told you that fat is ugly. There are MANY societies who find a fleshy woman attractive and desirable. Should not a person be judged by her character and not her appearance? By how polite, friendly, helpful, honest, etc, that they are?

The only one who was unattractive was the last one and she was so NOT because of her weight but because she apparently was born without the gene enabling her to purchase tasteful clothing that fits her.

So, fuck it, Blue, you say, be fat, we don't care. Buy yourself a box of Krispy Kremes and shut the fuck up about it.

Why do I want to be thinner, anyway?

Well, simply, because I lack self confidence. I have no confidence whatsoever. Never have.

All my life I've been told that the ideal of female perfection is to be 1) thin, and 2) well educated. I can't shake it. The education part takes money, effort, and brains; three two things that I noticeably lack.

But, by golly, I can be thin(ner).

It's clearly a control thing. Something that I can do. Something that I have control over.

Questions is: can I do this without driving my family insane? Or my blog readers?

Hmmmmm.

*An articulated lorry - a semi truck - a tractor-trailer-truck.

Bah!

Well, I'm having a crap-fucking-tastic day. Seriously. My life has sucked llama arsehole for 3 months now.

I have a gorgeous new son, who is doing fab; he's not the problem (or, indeed, A problem). It's me. I suck. I can't seem to organise myself. I don;t seem to have enough hours in my day. I can't seem to lose any fucking weight despite not eating anything. Fuck, if I eat I don't lose, if I *don't* eat I don't lose. Would that make it a lose-lose situation? Obviously fucking NOT.

I need to clean my house (it makes my head hurt to think about it), but I need to work on my shops. I need to work out in the barnyard, but I can't leave the house (wee people running about loose). I want to just get in the car and drive off sometimes. (But then I miss my kids so badly when I do go anywhere which is always the fucking grocery store. That's it. That's the only place I ever go. The grocery store. Where I buy food that I CAN'T FUCKING EAT. How sad is that?)

I wish I could just teleport myself to the beach for about 20 minutes. Just sit on the sand and listen to the ocean. Just be left alone, by myself, for 20 minutes.

Ahhhhhhh.

But, hey, I've been watching a new British telly show that I must recommend (I'm on a recommendation tear). It's called Black Books and is funny, light, and charming. If you like Britcom, you'll appreciate it, I think.

Ohh ... I also found this. I laughed so hard that Bud Light shot out of my nose. And that shite smarts. I am stunned at the overweening stupidity of which some humans are capable.

And to end on a penis note, 'cause I heart me some penis, I have decided that I am against excessive penis piercing. Honestly. I speak from my penis-loving wee heart. I hate to see something as fucking gorgous as a fine johnson disfigured by too many piercings.

(Now before any of you blows a seal, let me remind you that *I* am pierced, so I'm not anti-piercing. Pay attention.)

Check out this (really well done!) FAQ on penile piercings, here.

It's OK. I'll wait.

Hmmm. Hmm. Hmmmmmmmmm.

OK, are you back? You OK? You look a bit green around the gills ...

Shake it off! Did you see that first John Thomas? That was a lovely member! But all that hardware just detracted from the overall look. Maybe a Frenum ring (or barbell, right), or a Pubic barbell or a Scrotal, if you must, but leave that lovely long lad alone after that!

Thoughts?

pfucka

So, I was reading all of my fave bloggers (fucking finally - I get around to doing this, like, once every few weeks, which blows llama dick, but there it is), and I go to make a comment and I get the standard Blogger verify-you're-not-a-robot shit page (I left my comment in, as the blogger in question - one of my Pussy Posse - reads this blog on occasion):

Check out the verifying string.

PFUCKA! Pee-fuck-uh! How cool is that?!

I had actually been noting some of the strange configurations of letters in Blogger's verifying thingy, but had failed to note them down ... until now.

PFUCKA!

LOL, I just love it and consider it a sign. It's a sign! The Gods of Expletives are looking out for their devoted handmaiden.

Jeez, wouldn't that make a great toast? Along the same lines as slainte?

"Now let's all raise our glasses to our founder and CEO ..."

"PFUCKA!"

This is SO a sign that I should say 'fuck' more often. Seriously. Despite what me mum says.





-----





On a slightly different note, I recently had an encounter on one of my boards where a group of us were spanked by a mod for using the word 'penis'. He reminded us that it was (supposedly) a 'family friendly' board.




(In case you're curious as to what sort of board I'd be on where penii were discussed freely, don't get too excited. Someone mentioned baking a penis cake for a friend's bachelorette party. Apparently they're all the rage, these penis cakes. I wouldn't know as no one has ever offered to bake me a penis cake, or thrown me a bachelorette party, or, indeed, a baby shower, even. And I have five kids. Not that I'm fucking bitter or anything. What can I say? I'm a tiresome old broad and no one loves me.)



ANYway, number one, in order to be a member of this board you must be 13 or older. When did the word penis become unacceptable to 13 year olds? If your 13 year old has a problem with that word you are in trouble as a parent. My TWO year old knows what a penis is and will happily point out his own (or, y'know, a family member's) and my 3, 4, and 5 year olds are positively phlegmatic about the whole body part thing. Yeah, whatever; it's a nipple, a testicle, a toe, an earlobe. *yawn*


Of course what really happened was that one of the people on the board complained, I suspect. Let me hasten to say that I'm all about rules. I'm also a pretty respectful person (despite what this blog reflects). So I'm all cool with not discussing penises on a board that I don't own if it makes folks uncomfy. I just don't understand it, is all.

How does one form one's perception of acceptable language?


Is it learned from and patterned after one's parents like our basic language skillz? Sort of hardwired in early? (This is one of the problems facing teachers today: idiot fucks who speak and write like this, send their children to school speaking and writing like they do and wonder why our harried, under appreciated, and underpaid public school teachers can't transmogrify them all into college-bound successes. But I fucking digress.)


I don't buy that ones parametres for acceptable speech are formed early. My dad is the son of a Baptist preacher and he curses like a bastard. I was raised by two people who cursed and was taught that it was an adult thing. I never uttered a curse word until I was in High School. Seriously, I started tentatively cursing when I was 13. I also started my period at 13 (Gee, thanks for sharing, Blue!) so maybe it's a hormones thing.


Obviously one's environment has a lot to do with it. Religion comes into play; a Pagan is more likely to be laid back about body-part-and-natural-act words than a conservative Jew whose faith stresses modesty.

I dunno. I have never cursed in the workplace, I never do so around my Evil Genius Husband's family, or in public where I might be overheard (erm, usually). I say fuck a lot because - as I said in the last post - it's a good word; quite versatile and I'm a grown up who can judge when and where to utter epithets. As for penis, well, it's not a dirty word IMHO it's just a part of a male's anatomy.

What are your thoughts, Randy Readers? Upon what do you base your level of expletives?

While you ponder, I shall leave you with this parting indication of my fondness for you:

PFUCKA!

Non-drunken ramble

Howcome there's always that one person on a forum or bulletin board who is a mean drunk?

You know the guy; everyone is posting late at night, back and forth - essentially chatting real-time, but on the forum - and gradually he begins to change. His tone becomes terse, then belligerent; his replies more verbose, rambling. He starts reacting wildly to ordinary responses. He becomes paranoid.

By the end of the night he's snarling threats/insults and threads are being locked (if there's a mod).

What's up with fuckers like this?

I drink quite a bit. It's one of my sole joys/vices. But I have always been pretty responsible with it. I never drink and drive. I generally drink at home, and have always preferred to. So no fights, no public nakedness, no being stranded without a designated driver. The only person I have inebriated hot monkey sex with is my Evil Genius Husband.

I generally know when to quit. I've never in my life passed out drunk or fallen asleep in a strange place. I've always woken up in my own bed.

In addition I'm a pretty happy drunk. I don't generally get combative at all (in stark contrast to myself when sober.) As a matter of fact I'm a soppy drunk. I tend to love everybody (so if I've ever emailed you in the middle of the night - I was just drunk. I love you, but I don't really want to tongue-kiss you and do your dishes before I leave.)

The board drunk tends to be the painfully socially inept loser who still lives at home with his parents. Runner up is the bloke who's just run his wife/girlfriend off with his crappiness. If it's a mommy/baby board then it's the screaming white-trash bitch who couldn't tell you the correct usage of 'there', 'their ', and 'they're' with a fucking gun to her head, loves jesus but hates blacks and Mexicans, and has named her child something like Savannah Dawn or Chrystahl Lynne or Gunn Steele or Drake Hunter (daddy's a hunter - yeah, we get it already!)

Ugh.

And speaking of tongue-kissing, one of the blokes on my CafePress boards did this brief-if-thought-provoking post on, of all things, drinking straws. Thoughts?

Hmmmm ... hot monkey sex.

The penultimate 'fuck' post

OK, so just recently it was suggested to me (by my mother) that I might curse too much.

Erm ...

Number one, by the woman who, when I was a child, could cuss a drunken sailor under the table. (back me up here, Dad!)

Also ...

What the Blue Fuck is wrong with the word "fuck"?

Wait, this is two-fold. 1) What's wrong with the word, and 2) what's the evil juxtaposition with kids?

OK ... I need to explain, don't I?

Me mum said to me, upon leaving my house after an afternoon of keeping my Brood:

"I wish you wouldn't curse in front of those children."

This has bugged me - obviously, it got me to blog - since.

Seriously.

Yes, I'm a 43 year old mum of five who does curse in front of her kids. I never curse AT my kids. But I do tend to *ahem* express myself on occasion in the presence of my children. Nothing excessive. I don't spend all day sounding like a dockworker.

Is this wrong?

The way I look at it is that there are things that grown-ups do (like drink alcohol, have sex, pay taxes, and curse) that kids don't do. My wee ones are pretty smart cookies. They comprehend that they can't taste Daddy's beer because it's a 'grown-up drink'. They also fathom that saying 'shit' or 'fuck' is verboten.

Some things are just for grown ups. This is NOT beyond the comprehension of (at least MY) offspring.

The word has an indistinct history. There are indications that it stems from the German 'ficken' (to copulate), Middle Dutch 'fokken' (to thrust, copulate, or to breed), or dialectical Norwegian 'fukka' (to copulate).

Honestly, as a descendant of these races (via the Saxon invasion of Britain), I must say:

DUH!

We love the word. It's a good word. It's an expletive ("FUCK!") when you stub your toe, a handy and unmistakable expression of dismay ("well, fuck me"), a to-the-point gesture of contempt or disbelief or disapproval ("fuck this!"), a convenient add-on for emphasis ("I can't fucking stand that" and "un-fucking-believable!"), a satisfyingly expressive epithet ("Fuck you!"), as well as a good old descriptive verb ("Ewan McGregor? I'd fuck him.")

How can that be wrong?

Of course this isn't about language so much as parenting, is it? No one likes to have her mothering skillz brought into question (least of all from her own *&%#ing mother).

Thoughts, gentle readers? Do you curse in front of your children?

Erm ...

Fuck me. Has it been that long since I've posted?

I apologize profusely my readership of ... of ... erm, none (I'd've fucked off as well. Bitch doesn't post regularly. Fuck her!)

*resolves to post more frequently*

*also on her store blog*

*for her online store. Which she shamelessly pimps here*

RIP Anna Nicole

Well, apparently Anna Nicole Smith has died. She was 39. That's like four fucking years younger than me.

Fuck.

I don't know a whole lot about her, as I don't watch telly and am not into most celebrity shit, but I will say that I always admired her not-skinny-as-a-fucking-prisoner-of-war figure.

If *I* had a body like this:



I'd go to the Wal Mart naked. I am not shitting you.

Would you like my autograph?

Celebrity bay-bee!

Evil Genius Husband's very own Evil Genius Party has been featured over at UserFriendly.Org as the Link Of the Day!!!!!

Like, OMG!

Thank you UserFriendly! You blokes rocked before, but now you're ... you're TEH ROXXORZ!!1111!!!!11!!

Don't forget all of your official Evil Genius Party merchandise: tees, mugs, bumperstickers, etc

Vote Evil Genius in 2008!

Really crotchety now! *with update! and penises!*

D'ye remember Kyle?

Bloke from the sex site who googled his competitor (now THAT sounds dirty ... or like a contract hit) and emailed me asking that I pimp HIS site?

Well, he emailed me again:

>I emailed you a couple weeks ago regarding your link to adameve.com on your
>page http://www.hill-liles.com/2005/05/ohh-scuse-me-blogfart.htm and was
>wondering if you had time to get to it. I would appreciate if you link to
>our site, (kyle's site), since it is also useful to your visitors.
>If you want to link to us you can place your site in our directory for free
>at (directory)
>> Thanks-
> Kyle
> (kyle's email)*

Well, Hey Kyle! *waves* I suppose since you're probably not bloody reading this I'll just have to fucking email you:

Dear Kyle,

I'm terribly sorry that you apparently didn't read my blog again after emailing me requesting that I pimp your site. I checked out your site and wrote an entire entry with several links to your stuff.

http://www.hill-liles.com/2006/06/crotchety.htm

I've tried to help you out, here, Kyle and in return you are emailing me again without checking out my blog.

This saddens me. I'm sorry, but now you and your staff will just have to buy some t-shirts:

http://www.evilgeniustees.com/

Have a bloody good day Kyle.

-Blue

What do you think? Too much? Not enough? More penises? Exponential additional use of the epithet 'fuck'?

Ahhh, well ... whatthefuckever.

Say, since I be pimpin ... (and Kyle, if you and the staff are reading, check it:) If you or anyone you know is into the current Pirate craze, please direct them to our newest tees and gifts at

The Evil Genius Comics Pirate Shop!

Arrr! It's gear fit for Jack Sparrow, Davey Jones, and landlubbers alike,now jump aboard the black pearl and sail the caribbean under the skull and crossbones of the Jolly Roger and ....

Oh, piss it! Go check out the shirts.

*Yes I removed the links. No linkey love for people who don't read my blog!

*UPDATE*

Now how's this for customer service? Kyle shot me an email back immediately:

Dear Old Blue-

Man oh man am I sorry. Looks like we put you in the wrong folder. It certainly wont happen again. We actually reviewed your site after you included us and found it most enjoyable and we strongly advise you to keep up the good blogging. You are awesome mate. Watch out when you least expect it I will buy a t shirt.
I have a couple great ideas for a tshirt are you interested?

Thanks-
Kyle
Adultsextoys.com
kyle@adultsextoys.com

What do you think? Does Kyle deserve Linky Love? I think so.

Maybe I was a little lacking on the penises ... I think Kyle thinks I'm a man ... Ok, here's a gratuitus penis pic just for good measure.



(Heh. Get it? Good measure? ... OK FINE. Go shop for t-shirts and/or sex toys.)

Just a little forth of July JAM!

I ... I think I'm having a Trek-gasm!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBXal1GAA4A

"Artwork ... DOPE!"

"Scot-TAY ... beam on down BAYbee!"

"Yo, Scotty ... Bring it!"

The next available operator can eat my snatch

Ohhhh, I am HOT.

And I don't mean 'hot' as in HAWT! I mean I am steamed. Angry. Fucked the fuck off.

Check it:

I have had four babies (alas, probably my only ones, but that's a blog for another day). I have had these babies at the same fucking hospital, with the same fucking insurance, one baby per year, 2002 to 2005. I have a fucking file there, OK?

So, anyway, in 2004 I had a baby in April and was billed for eighty something dollars. I rang the hospital, spoke with a nice lady and was told that it had, indeed not been filed for that whatever-it-was, and that they'd take care of it.

Well today, over TWO COCKSUCKING YEARS later, I get a call from some bint who acts as if she's stoned AND stupid from Receivables Management Corporation on Shop Road in Columbia SC and am told that *I* have to work it out with the insurance company because it's been more than 1 year.

I ask the female to whom I'm speaking if I am correct in understanding that despite my own efforts *I* will have to do the legwork on what was an error on the hospital's part.

There was a loooooong silence.

I could hear her sucking her teeth or something.

Finally she sighs and says, profoundly: "Yeah"

She adds after another pause: "If you don't want this to stay in collections."

I told her that I would be taking care of it, wished her a nice day - albeit a bit tightly - and said goodbye.

I rang the fucking insurance and was cheerfully informed that since a year had passed they wouldn't pay it anyway.

Then I was stuck. It was 4:30. I'm stuck with the bill and stuck with not having any fucking idea who these fucking fucks are at the collections service.

Hmmmm ...

I rang the hospital, got the number and rang Receivables Management Corporation on Shop Road in Columbia SC home of telephone reps who simply fall into long silences when asked questions.

Before I go any further let me apprise you of something. I worked in a telemarketing firm for 10 years. I started out on the phone, was a trainer, a monitor, and ended up their telephone technician. I am VERY aware of all the details of how the phone should be answered and how the business works. Well I'm aware of how a GOOD company - like the one I worked for - has it done.

I rang the collections place at 4:50pm. First, the hold music was obnoxiously loud. Second, I got 'Jay' who just rerouted me to the "next available representative". After a bit, I got a female who didn't identify herself (that I caught.) I gave her my name and telephone number and she immediately said: "Please hold"

I waited, minutes ticking away on my cell, music blaring in my ear.

I waited about four and a half minutes when I glanced at the clock. It was one minute to 5:00. They close at 5.

I waited.

Suddenly, at 5:01 and 1/2 the music stopped. "Hello?" I said. The phone clicked dead.

That bitch cut me off. She put me on hold for SIX FUCKING MINUTES and at 5:00 she turned her phone off.

I rang back in a ... mood and left them a saccharine sweet message to ring me.

OK, Receivables Management Corporation, it's up to you. I will not ring you again. I'm trying to pay this fucking bill that I should NOT be paying and I will NOT be abused by your telephone customer service which fucking sucks a camel's asshole.

Thank you for calling Blue's Blog. You have a good day! Buh-bye!

New Evil Genius Order!

Here it is ladies and gentlemen, a new political party for a new age:

The Evil Genius Party!

Official Press Release:

Election time is fast approaching. How do you feel? Does the electoral system have you down? Feeling isolated in your Red State? Alone in your Blue State? Do you wish we could all just get along? Are you stressed about who to pick, Republicans or Democrats? And which is which anyway?

Now’s the time to join the Evil Genius Party! We are for unity, not division. Universal employment, not acceptable percentages of unemployed. Global peace. Understanding. Choose enlightened leaders for an enlightened age. We don’t play divisive politics, we play You Politics. Working for you to bring improved health, long life, flying cars, and the global peace.

The Evil Genius Party, a 21st century party working for your 21st century dreams.

And, of course, you can support the cause with T-shirts, mugs, and bumper stickers!

"Ask not what you can do for yourself, but what you can do for your Evil Genius!"

Vote Evil Genius in 2008!

Crotchety

I was forced to post.

Forced, and not in a good, oh-no-please-stop-you-wicked-horrible-pirate-you, sort of way.

I was forced to post because Evil Genius Husband said he was - and I quote - "tired of looking at Ewan McGregor's crotch". Can you believe such a thing? Is he mad?

Ewan Mcgregor's crotch is sublime. If I didn't love him (Evil Genius Husband ... not erm, Ewan) (Really) so much I'd pepper this post with gratuitous pics of Ewan.

Or Patrick.

But I won't cuz I'm such a good wife (and I need his seed).

(Evil genius Husband's, not, erm ...)

(*drooooool*)

So check this out: I got an email from these blokes out of the blue (heh. I always wanted a chance to apply that phrase to my children. My kids are 'out of the Blue'. Get it? Out of the ... oh, fine ... piss it!)

ANYway, I got this email from these people:

"I noticed you link to adameve.com on your webpage http://www.hill-liles.com/2005/05/ohh-scuse-me-blogfart.htm. I am emailing to ask you to link to our site, AdultSexToys.com, since we also offer adult toys. You can put a free link to your site in our directory if you would like, at http://www.adultsextoys.com/cgi-bin/links/add.cgi"

Thank You
Kyle
AdultSexToys.com

No, thank YOU, Kyle. Thanks for reading and thanks for the link offer. Adam and Eve is my first choice for sex toys, I confess (Incidentally I also linked to extremerestraints.com and nawtythings.com in that post ... y'know while we're pimpin' ... perhaps if I ,erm, expose these people's stuff enough I'll get a free butt plug. Or they'll buy a fucking T-shirt. Or both. Butt plug and a T-shirt sale ... hmmm, unfortunately my most expensive tee, at 21 clams (bearded clams? yes, I went there), can't compete with $40 arse-stuffers.

So anyway, I couldn't resist a shufti at sex toys so I prowled over to Kyles site. I went immediately to the 'novelties' section as that's my fave (after butt-plugs, natch!) and discovered these which beg the question: why has no one ever invented penis-and-balls fuzzy slippers? Why? I'd fucking buy them! And these which make one wonder if the phrase 'soft and bouncy' is appropriately applied to a penis.

But my fave is these, peppermint candy with the words "Fuck you, you fuckin' fuck" written on the package! Hahahahahahah! What a perfect gift to give one's boss as one is leaving the job, or hey, one's ex-asshole, even! I'd love to have them in my handbag just for those random encounters at the Lowe's.

OK, Kyle, there's my links. Your site is quite nice: easy to navigate and well stocked. Now buy a T-shirt, mate!

Fangirl of the lesser known

They can't all be this fucking sexy:

God DAMN ... but Scots Gods aside, it's a well-known fact that I love geeky, nerdy, can't-get-up-the-nerve-to-ask-you-to-dance guys. (I even prefer Ewan in roles like this: A Life Less Ordinary, Nightwatch, Little Voice)

Like, I have this thing for David Hyde Pierce:

I love geeky guys, smart guys, (neurotic guys not so much but I can cope), talented guys (Pierce sings and plays the piano beautifully in case you've beeen living under a rock for the past decade-and-a-half and have never seen Fraiser) and so he's right up my alley. Although I think he's homosexual or bisexual or asexual or one of the sexuals that wouldn't mesh well with me but that's OK because 1) it's none of anybody's fucking business and 2) I adore him and don't care which of the sexuals he is.)

Incidentally, he did the voice for Abe Sapien in the film Hellboy (from Mike Mignola's comic) and I was already hot for Abe so ... damn.


I would so shag the Ichthyosapien. Seriously. (BTW that's the actor who wore the suit so loverly: Doug Jones, not so sexy but did a great job in the outfit)

----

Speaking of geeky guys with talent, tell me you don't want to have wild passionate hot monkey-sex with this man. I know I do.

Go on. Check it (turn up your speakers). I'll wait.

....

....

TELL me your nipples didn't get hard when he did MC Hammer.

You LIAR! You so totally want to shag his brains out don't you?! Who wouldn't want to swap bodily fluids with a bloke in black shoes and white socks who can do the Shopping Cart and the Lawnmower?

Come ON!

And for total randomness, I think this bloke is HAWT:

I have no idea who he is but he looks good in a thong, doncha think? (he kinda resembles Danny over at Dad Gone Mad)

Speaking of thongs (how was that for a segue? Let's ask the judges: 9.6, 9.9, 10!!!)

What's up with the anus floss? Could anything be more uncomfortable? I even found thongs for pregnant chicks. Fuck that shite! I'm 9+ months along sore, tired, achey, hormonal and toting around a 10lb baby plus a teensy (50lbs or so) of 'baby fat', I do NOT want some 20-guage string of cotton wedged in my arsecrack and jammed up my twat!

Does this look comfy? : (and you blokes think I never post pics for you!)

OUCH! Bisected snatch alert! Uhm, camel-toe much?

So, back to being fans ... Ladies (guys?) what lesser known bloke really tweaks your nips? B- actors? Bloggers? Political figures? Historical figures? Comic characters? Fess up! I promise I won't laugh:

(I'd love to say that was me but 1) my tits are bigger, and 2) I don't have a tattoo ... there.)

Like, nude, dude

So I was reading a post by one of my fave daddybloggers* and he spoke of some walk in San Fran and included a juicy link to a pic of ... a penis.

Yep, a tired, sweaty penis attached to a buck-arse naked bloke participating in the walk.

See, I'm just so jealous. As I said in my comment on that post we just don't have much free-range penis around here. You just don't see it.

Which is a DAMNed shame!

I mean, fuck, what's a girl gotta do around here to get some legislation enacted?! Why can't we go naked? Fuck, the way chicks dress nowadays they might as well BE fucking naked.

(If you have to show that much of your flat arse getting it's rectum flossed, then you need to be naked. NOT sexy, sweetie. Really. )

They sure can't look any worse what with arse-cracks stretching out , flabby bellies with jiggly tattoos, stretch-marked cleavage, coat-rack hip-bones cut by thong straps, underclothes showing all out underneath regular clothes, underclothes WORN as regular clothes.

Fuck it, bitches, just get yer kit off!

I know I'd love to see me some man-junk on a daily basis (Aside from Evil Genius Husband's, that is. I mean that's just a damn crime against nature right there, depriving the world of a glimpse of the mighty Hammer of Auburn.)

Fuck it, what's up with folks and the human body? I love it (the human body, not folks. They blow Tut's dick**). I mean, they don't want to see it, think it's so private that you can't show it, but they turn around and want to invade your privacy and remove your rights and legislate what you can and cannot do with it. That fucking sucks!

Some idiots even want to go so far as to tell me that my tits, which were evolved (or if you're judeo-christian: were created by god, specifically by him, whilst reclining on a cloud somewhere), TO FEED MY BABIES, cannot be used for that purpose in public!

What gives? We're all obsessed with the human form, in some form.

(I like my willies airborne)

I'm not suggesting that folks be allowed to be lewd. Even I would tire of watching some bloke wanking off in the produce section of the BiLo (...eventually), and there's health concerns to consider (nudists carry towels upon which to sit for this very reason), but, hell, what's wrong with a little basic nudity? Like on your own property (EGH would love this) or in designated public areas? (Like footy stadiums ...)

**Confess it ... every time you think of me you think of the phrase: "Fuck me, It's Tut's dick!" doncha? Thought so.
*No disrespect intended to that blogger with no link. Wasn't sure how he'd feel about linking this uncensored drivel to his family blog, ya know?

In amongst ye!

I'm a Star Trek geek and I'm Scots so I found this hysterically funny. If you're not a Star Trek geek or Scots or don't find yourself laughing uncontrollably, well ... fuck ye.

"Oi, ensign, g'e us warp factor ten, we'll open this big bastard up ..."

-----

Today's What The Blue Fuck falls into the Stupid Ebayers category.

This needs to have a place of honour forever in The (Sic) File. Check it:


"2 ounce Mortise and pedestal glass"?!

Do you mean MORTAR and PESTLE you fucking dolt? Do they not teach English in Utah? Do you not own a dictionary? Fuck!

-----

Since we're ebaying here's a weird one ... Darth Penis.

As a Star Wars Geek to the 10th power, I gotta say, dude, anyone stupid enough to colour his penis black with a permanent marker (which contain alcohols, ouch! ouch! ouch!) steps over the boundary of Rabid Starwars Fan to Fucking Psycho Idiot. Sorry mate.

----

And speaking of dressing up your chick sticker, howzabout this?

Kokigami the Japanese (of course) art of gift-wrapping your rod and presenting it to your lover. COOL, huh? There's even a handy book on the subject. The gist is that you cut out and fold wee paper costumes, transforming your meek member into a mighty dragon or a loooooooong necked goose.

There's a variation called tsutsumi which is more the wrapping of the penis in ribbon or lace in an intricate pattern. The 'recipient' then undoes the elabourate binding to find his or her man's best leg of three.

-----

And speaking of bound penises, I was relieved to find out that Tutankhamen penis has been located. Yeah, they feared it had been stolen or misplaced ("Jezus, what's this in my coat pocket, here? Looks like a moldy cigar ... FUCK me! It's Tut's dick! I wondered where that'd got to!")

The royal willy was in place when Tut was photographed immediately after being found (left. You don't even have to squint) but then vanished during restoration I believe.

*whew* Gotta watch those penii, they're apt to wander!

Port in a storm, any

I've become obsessed with fake sex parts.

Not sexual aids, per se, but ... fakes. Now some things are intended as sexual aids - RealDolls springs to mind - but I'm sure at least a few are purchased and never, erm ... used for whatever bizarre reason. Maybe it's used as a film prop or a work of art (which they are in a creepy, creepy way) or someone has some weird fucking fetish where they just need to dress them up (or tie them up [!!]) and don't ever actually complete a (standard) sex act , erm ... with it. Her. Him. Whatever.

(Let me insert [heh. I said 'insert'] here that the male dolls are just ... ugh. They totally squik me out. The face is weird [no offense to RealDolls - I think male faces are just harder (heh, i said ... oh nevermind)] ... where was I? Oh, and the chest muscles are not quite right. They look funky somehow.)

ANYway, i'm not at all averse to the random, well made sex toy, but what's up with this? I mean, no offense to anyone, especially Evil Genius Husband and the mighty Hammer of Auburn, but really ...

Why would I want to go to all that trouble (aside from getting to watch, fascinated, as someone attempted to maintian a hard-on with his memebr encased in gelatinous goo while keeping perfectly still) when I could just get this and have it shipped next day air? Come on now. I adore the original and the homemade fake just wouldn't, well, measure up.*

I've already talked about fake assholes (no, not some of my former co-workers or husbands, I mean real fake assholes) for medical training purposes and they have those for sexual use as well, along with a stunning variety of faux snatch. These are perfectly legitimate sex toys (although am I the only one who finds the image of a woman skillfully employing a latex willy to be unremarkable but the image of some dude humping an expensive plastic twat hysterically funny? OK, maybe it's just me.)

But what about fake boobs? Not the kind that are inserted into live women (I find those ridiculous. Honey, if you have two pads of fatty tissue surmounted by some nipples MOST guys are going to like it just fine), but these:

(Check out the rather detailed 'review' of the product. He bought him some plastic tits and was disappointed that they didn't feel real! Awwww, sucks to be you.)

or these:


These last are by the talented RealDoll folks and are brilliant as stress balls (I should market two firm, egg-sized orbs in a hairy latex sack and call 'em ... Stress Balls. I'd make a fortune) and they'd make a nice - if expensive - gag gift, but are they sex toys? Or just fake, fondle-able tits? Do guys care?

Here's some for on-the-go:

Having a Breast Emergency? Wife/girlfriend not around? Pop open a Tin O' Boob and go to town!

PS: get something classy to cover your tits, fake or otherwise: I now have the famous "Who lit the fuse on YOUR tampon?" from my sidebar on a T-shirt!! Check it out! Buy two! Tell a buddy! (thanks)

*nice save, eh?

In which there may be a teensy bit of foul language

Would you like to know what I fucking hate?

I hate this:

My last job, which I held for ten years or so before some stupid rat fucks decided that they'd move a PC without asking, lose half the cables and string the rest of them all over the floor, put it in an unfinished office full of boxes and furniture then ring my boss and demand that I have it working on Monday and so set me up to trip over said cables and FUCK UP MY KNEE (not that I'm bitter) was a PC technician.

I was a computer and telephone technician for a telemarketing firm that employed hundreds of reps. I started out on the phones. I was their only tech in my state. I'm not exactly the brightest spangle on the strippers g-string, but I'm not stupid. I know a fair bit about how PCs and telephones, and modems and routers and networks works ... erm, work.

I also used to be a customer service rep. I prided myself on my clear speech, pleasant manner, and helpfulness. If I didn't know the answer I made sure I found it out.

So here's what I hate (in case I lost ya back there): I fucking hate having to wait on hold for some fucking imbecile at the fucking phone company (who, by the way, if you ring and say your phone line is down they ask you if it's OK to ring you back ... at home. NO YOU CUNT! My fucking phone is down! That's why I'm talking to your white trash stank-snatch self, you bitch! You have caller ID! Does that LOOK like a Bell Sux number? FUCK!).

I fucking hate having a tinned voice tell me that she's connecting me to one of their hot DSL 'technicians' when I KNOW it's some twat sitting in a cubicle who probably doesn't know how to get the hood open on her fucking Geo and who's reading off a computer screen while flirting with that droopy-trousered, brain-dead, loser two rows over with creepy crawlies in his crotch hair and pot crumbs in his pockets instead of money.

I fucking hate speaking to a bitch whom I cannot understand, whether it's because she's actually in another country doing customer service for my American dollars or whether she's just some dumb getto/trailer park slut who was busy trying to conceive her first 'qualifying person in the household' in middle school instead of attending English class.

But you know what I hate most of all? I hate having to follow meekly along stewing in my own juices while this cunt reads. each. word. off. the. screen ... and fucking tells me to do everything that I tried ALFUCKINGREADY! 'Cause I'm a PC tech. NO SHIT I rebooted my machine! Noooooo ... the bright box with the purty pictures turns off?

"Type in P as in pistachio, I as in iguana, N as in nautical (what the Blue Fuck ever happened to teaching the military call sign alphabet?), G as in grievance ..."

PING?! You want me to open a DOS window and PING something? Just fucking SAY SO. Oh and learn English before you say so, cause you may have told me to let Hill*ry "commie bitch" Clint*n eat my pussy for all I fucking know at this point. I haven't understood every third word you've said.

But you know what the best part is?

She finally checked the maintenance reports. Yep. The DSL was down temporarily in my area.

Maybe she'll catch the creepy crotch crawlies from Loser Boy.

I can only hope.

Bad taste advisory

I know how you all simply hang on my every beverage review *snort*so I decided to do another. You know, in the interest of the public, and all.

The bevvie is called VitaminWater made (Bottled? Distilled?) by Glaceau. They apparently have a shitload of flavours (orange-carrot or dragonfruit anyone? *Blearghh*) but I was only presented with four there at my Bi-Lo (pronounced: "mah BAH-low") in the urban metropolis that is Newberry SC (pronounced: "NEW-burr").

And what did Blue think? Well my lovely assistant, Evil Genius Husband, has graciously offered to express my feelings for the camera so that you may fully appreciate them. I tried to get him to wear something brief and spangly but he drew the line at that.


<== This is the Multi-V and was lemondade flavoured. It was v. nice - just the right balance of flavour and sweetness and not at all overwhelming. It tasted like water with a touch of lemonade.

This is the Energy one ==>, supposedly 'tropical fruit' flavoured. It contains, among other things, gaurana which soulds a tad too close to guano for me, thanks. It tasted like monkey ass. If it had guano in it I guess that'd be bat's ass, which is really fun to say. Bat's ass! That might be my new phrase: "Fuck, this tastes like a bat's ass!" (I think it works better with the 'a' in there, don't you?)




So let's review. Multi-V (lemonade), light and refreshing:

Energy (tropical fruit), small furry flying mammal's asshole:


Please note how my review and the reviews on the linked page differ. I personally think that with the advent of artificial sweeteners and today's societal norms, everyone is so used to their 'water' tasting like a sugary soda that they can't drink anything that's lightly flavoured or - horrors! - not flavoured at all. Nowadays everyfuckingthing has to be flavoured, our coffee (see Denis Leary for a comprehensive report on this phenomenon), our water, our tea, even our fucking Diet Cokes!

We're now such an 'I-want-more', 'I-deserve-it', 'indulge-me' fucking society that plain is not good enough anymore. And yet people scramble all over themselves to get organic and natural foods. "There's no chemicals on my vegetables!" they crow while sucking down a diet soda loaded with splenda.

Fucking idiots.

Ouch!

What the fuck was that? Oh great ... I've been tagged.

OK, ok, I'll play, fuck.

The meme is "Tell six random things about you". I've also seen "List six weird things about you", and "six embarrassing things about you", and "six things most people don't know about you". Well, in better keeping with my nature, I've decided to let it evolve into "Six things more than people really wanted to know about you".

Ready? Set? GO!

1) The tips of both of my little fingers turn inwards toward the next finger. A lot. It's really freaky and I've been creeping people out by showing it to them since I was, like, four.

2) I'm a moley person (ew!) and I even have one on my snatch. But I must admit it's kind of a cute, Cindy Crawford-ish kinda thing ... except it's on my cootch.

3) I'm so OCD (according to Dr Google, you can't be "a little OCD", I'm not sure I believe that, though), anyway, one of the jillion things I do is that I must eat imperfect potato crisps first. The small, the weak, the deformed are consumed first, then, when I get my little herd of genetically and physically perfect master race crisps ... I eat 'em. Bwahahahahahah!

4) I've never smoked but I have dipped snuff.

5) My house looks at any given moment as if a tornado has blown through. My car is awash in empty fast-food wrappers, used kleenex, scraps of paper, diet coke bottles. My shop, however, is meticulously tidy - complete with tools in their proper places on the wall.

6) I have milked a sheep.

----

OK! Now I do not believe in the old 'tag 12 more folks or you will die of diphtheria' stuff ... that smells too much like the old chain letters, but I will tag my very own Evil Genius Husband, 'cause I can be evil too.

----

Edited to add a photo of the hideous gross crooked fingers! Aiiiieeeee!



(OK, this is only one, but the other one looks exactly like it ... only in reverse. Yeah, yeah, I know. *yawn* Not so remarkable. Did I tell you about the mole on my HooHa? )

Geeks fight it out and sex-talk with four year olds

This is why geeks shouldn't marry geeks.

My darling Evil Genius Husband ran mad in the comic shop toy section on Wednesday and bought me several new Boba Fett toys (including the Lego Slave I and the limited edition die-cast Slave I ... yes, you may drool with envy).

Anyway, my oldest son, Boy, was admiring the Lego box and he asked me a Boba Fett question*. Distracted, I told him I didn't know the answer. He murmured: "I'll ask Dada". I immediately snapped to attention and informed him (just the teensiest bit aloofly) that any Star Wars questions were to be directed to me. Momma. I am the reigning expert in the house.

See, when any of the kids has a comic book question it's directed to EGH (I don't know why they'd be asking comic book questions, it's not like the entire fucking house is covered with comic book and comic character crap: light switch covers, toys, lamps, cups, pencil holders, plushes, figurines, posters, statuettes, pillows, clothing, and of course, actual comics. It's not as if THAT is the case ....)

Where was I?

Oh, so EGH is the accepted expert and Final Word on comic stuff. Now, bear in mind that while I can in no way compete with his encyclopedic mental database, I don't suck, either. I'm a pretty dab hand at discussing Claremont era X-Men (because I was there, motherfuckers, buying 'em and reading 'em) and any others of "my" era like Werewolf By Night (Rima the Jungle Girl**, anyone?). But the point is that I defer to his knowledge.

Fast forward to that evening when I laughingly related the incident to him.

Silence.

I looked over at him and he was wearing that slight frown that he gets when he's contemplating the relative merits of voicing his opinion and risking my going all Deadpool on him.

Me (exasperated): "What?"
Him: "He could've asked me."
Me: "No. I'm the Star Wars person. You're the comic guy."
Him (slightly petulantly): "I know about Star Wars ..."
Me (feeling a mite Deadpooly): "But I know more!"
Him: "I know about Star Trek!"
Me: "We're not talking about Star Trek and I know as much as you about Star trek!"

Let's just say the argument spiraled from there to the point where make-up sex was necessary (not that I'm complainin'). So this is why geeks should only marry non-geeks, then there will be clear parametres and no confusion for the kiddies! Yeah.

----

So I just recently tampered with my code (here on this blog) and I was looking at the page when my oldest son, Boy, points to the new pic in the sidebar and asks: "What's that?"

Well it's a wall carving discovered in ancient Pompeii, presumably outside a brothel, and I had no intention of lying to him. "It's a willy," I said.

He contemplated this a moment and said: "A willy."

"A penis and testicles," I said.

He giggled a bit at the word testicles (it is kind of a funny word) then observed: "It's standing up,"

OK, starting to sweat a bit here. I'm quite frank with my babes about body parts, but this is pushing into the realm of sexuality. How did I feel about that?

Well, I tell you how I feel. I like it. I do it often. I feel like it's the most natural and wonderful thing in the world for people in a strong relationship to engage in. Evil Genius Husband and I don't shag in front of the tykes or anything but we are quite openly affectionate. I think it's good for a child to see how much his parents love each other and that they have a firm (heh) relationship.

Well, while I was wringing out this internal monologue my son says: "My willy stands up sometimes," and my brain, seeing that I was clearly going to overanalyze this to death, rescued me:

"yep," I said easily, "willies do that sometimes," and he wandered off, satisfied.

*whew*


*The question was: "Can Boba Fett fly the Slave I remotely?" The answer is: "Yes, he communicates with his ship via his helmet."
** This is Rima drawn deliciously by Nestor Redondo