Friday, May 13, 2011
Saturday, April 12, 2008
An act of A.S.S.
Monday, April 7, 2008
The only reason this picture looks unusual to you is because you cannot sit like me. Notice how my front legs are spread wider than my back legs. Why is this? Well, it's simple. I have VERY LARGE BREASTS.
What is wonderful about my breasts is they are natural. That's right. These pretty pecs came as part of my gene package. I did not inherit them from my mom who, shall we say, is lacking in the boob department. (For the record, my mom does have Chesticles!) Aunt Pooh has a lot more chest. In fact, her friend Donna calls Aunt Pooh's boobs "the buddies" because they are, well, bazookas. So I must've gotten the same genes as Pooh.
But they aren't as big as mine, in relative terms. Aunt Pooh does not put her back legs inside her front legs when she sits down. My cousin Frappe is said to have a large chest. But he does not sit down like I do. He's not supposed to sit down at all ,and he prefers to lie down in his own urine mixed with wood shavings. But that's for another post.
Then there are the "posers," the women who buy their bazookas. For example:
I have to hand it to Raquel. At least she is trying to get her legs together so she has bigger busts than I. Please, ladies, don't hate me because I'm NATURALLY beautiful.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
That is not a growth on Hunter's face. But I think he has one of these imprinted on his brain. He is obsessed and it has gotten unhealthy. I think he needs to go into one of those Hollywood Rehab programs for guys who lose their balls and then obsess about them.
Don't get me wrong. I like balls, too. But they are not the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I dream of when I hit the sack. Hunter just can't stop with the balls. His favorite balls are tennis balls. He has chased and chewed so many of them that his canine teeth are worn down. The Vet said this is not unusual for his breed, Golden Retriever. I think it is more than that. Much more.
Hunter carries a ball with him everywhere. Who does that? Even alcoholic bums put their booze down every once in a while. I think it is much more Freudian. Nobody wants to talk about it, but I think this obsessive-compulsive behavior began when Mom took Hunter to get "fixed." The problem is he went in with all of his body parts and he came out minus two. Suspiciously, this is when he truly fixated on balls.
Small balls, big balls, fat ones and flat ones. Hunter loves them all. He is an excellent athlete. He can fly through the air with the greatest of ease when he's focused on a ball. Dad even got a special throwing device that he uses at the ranch to toss balls for hunter. Dad is also very athletic - I think we inherited our athletic prowess from him because Mom is hopeless - but throwing balls was wearing on him. I think he was getting tennis elbow and he wasn't even on the tennis court.
Mom gets really peeved when Hunter puts balls on her chair and she doesn't notice until she sits down and fells a hard, wet thing under her booty. If you try to ignore Hunter and do some work around the house, he will put his big ole head right in your work. For example, when Mom loads the dishwasher, Hunter will drop his ball in the washer to get her attention. When Dad works with tools, Hunter places his wet ball in Dad's work chest.
I have to hand it to him. Hunter is tenacious and creative. But he become a pest inside the house at night when we're trying to watch American Idol. If somebody doesn't toss the ball, he cries like a liberal begging for a tax increase. Annoying. Dad tells him "No!" But in the end, we are all his enablers. We buy him the balls, we play with him, and we even tuck him into bed at night with a ball next to his head.
So I shouldn't be so hard on my brother. I just worry about him. What will the future bring to a eunuch who loves balls?