Top 10 Orgasm Calls

1. I'm a morning person!!! I'm a morning person!!! Tell me you are morning person!!!

2. (Utter Silence)

3. NOOOOOOOOO!

4. End scene. (slam dick in clapboard)

5. Oops...

6. I think we need to talk about our relationship!

7. Puppy, puppy! (English for the Spanish 'Papi')

8. :[ (Pull out cellphone and use series of emoji)

9. I'm afraid of intimacy! I'm afraid of intimacy!

10. I think you're amazing! You are a smart, graceful, beautiful, and powerful woman and I really hope that I am giving you spectacularly satisfying sex right now!

Local Man Inspired after Discovering Dog/Child Equally Swayed by Trail of Snacks

Between the dismal boredom of work and unwelcome familial obligations, Jeff Praeter, 41, would often lay an elaborate network of cheerios across his house forming a grand obstacle course to be followed by his dog, Charlton Barkley, also 41. "I like to call it the 'Trail of Tears'" Jeff said. "Though, come to think of it, the name is probably insensitive." Charlton barked seemingly in agreement. With an intricacy and peculiarity similar to a Rube Goldberg Machine, Jeff's cheerios trails allowed him an escape from the tyranny of his one and only son, Jefred Donlin, age 5. "Laying the trails is a form of meditation that helps me to drown out Jefred's shitty attitude; watching Charlton complete the run is more rewarding than being a father will ever be" Jeff explained.

Jefred lives most of his sycophantic existence with his mother, Jeff's ex-wife, and carries his glaring Oedipal complex with him wherever he goes. No time is this more apparent than when separated from his mother and foisted upon Jeff. "Mommy feeds me and loves me. I miss her. When I'm with Daddy I cry" Jeffred relates. Jeff, the straight shooter, as he likes to refer to himself, retorted, "This piece of shit just can't get over the fact that I boned the woman he loves; taking her to the meat suite, bringing her to the boneyard, you know." This strained father-son relationship was the source of much  consternation for Jeff, until an unexpected discovery yesterday which seems to hold an answer for their failing rapport.

Following his usual Sunday afternoon routine, Jeff locked up Charlton in preparation for his epic quest. A cheerio trail of grand proportions, Jeff designed perhaps his cruelest and most challenging course to-date. Broken glass, dangerous exotic animals, and malevolent traps all awaited the runner of this particular gauntlet. When asked about his inspiration Jeff quickly noted "those zany 80's car race films" and "Jackass" as the progenitors of his harrowing trail. Tinkering with the several legs of the course, Jeff was nearly ready to release Charlton when entitled, childish wonderment came into play.

In an utterly unexpected move, Jefred launched himself into the cheerio challenge. Eating cheerio after cheerio, the usually un-intrepid Jefred faced countless dangers for those sweet, wheaty sphincters. "I never thought the little fucker could do something like this" Jeff conceded. "I think he handled the fire pit and the swinging axes with grace, though his time leaves much to be desired. Still," Jeff added while injecting his son with  a dose of anti-venom, "I think we're going to need to work on the poisonous snake gallery."  Jefred selfishly declined to comment after the race, pointing to his swollen face and bloated belly full of cheerios.

The great promise of Jefred's performance lies in the possibility of mending his relationship with his father and Charlton. Jeff admitted that, while Jefred has not yet and may not ever prove his contrition, he is taking a step in the right direction. His greatest hope being that Jefred will regularly attempt the course and be able to compete with Charlton in a "head-to-head style death race."

Beginning at the Beginding

Here it is...

My unanticipated, not awaited, and soon to be forgotten comedy blog! It warms the cock of my cockles for you to be reading this. Surely, in a number of years, I will go down as one of the greatest bloggers of all time along with Danny "Duplex" Gilbert, McDaul Wilson, and that guy who pretended to be a Iranian lesbian activista. So, pat yourself on the back, give yourself a hug, bend over and let your neighbor touch your taint, and revel in the fact that you are a part of internet history so momentous that people won't even be talking about this after their 30 second post masturbation shame session!!

Anyhow, I am dedicating this blog to my longer form comic pieces, those things which cannot be defined in 140 characters or in pictures of people giving their friends a pair Arabian sun-goggles. These things may be obtuse, they may be confusing, they may cause localized temporal disturbances (fucking chrontion particles!), hell, I don't even know what's going to happen!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_fictional_elements,_materials,_isotopes_and_atomic_particles

So, I exhort you! Use your mind's eye; imagine I am serenading you, I saunter over to you, jingling my janky man bits as I walk. I press my excessive belly hair up against your face, the hairs are all up in your nose. You are disgusted, but intrigued as the mellifluous melodies of this one Adema/Lana Del Rey mash-up my cousin made escape my lips. You are overwhelmed and think that perhaps you have somehow been written into a terrible piece of fan fiction. YOU HAVE! You whisper "take me" into the fleshy abyss of my bellybutton, it seems to echo for an eternity. Still entranced by my manly lint pit, I grab you by the shoulders and sit in your lap, my bony butt causing you significant pain. I lean down and whisper in your ear "it's all a metaphor for comedy, bro."


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