hey, youtube is pretty cool.


i like stop motion animation a lot.

there are many snakes in my pants omg snakes. oh shit!

i like these ones too. i have 17 cocks. and i'm stroking them all RIGHT NOW AT THIS MOMENT.

i can't stop listening to this song.

tphd.muxtape.com

go listen.

THINGS YOU DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT THE iPHONE

1) I invented it. But I thought it was gay, so I threw the design in the trash. One evening Steve Jobs was indulging his need to root around in my trash, all smelling my things and rubbing himself, when whammo! He discovered my design, and the commercial horror that is the iPhone was born. I should have used the shredder, but the stupid thing always jams.

2) The original design had a LASER blaster and a teleporter. Apple is screwing you.

3) iPhones are actually grown from spores inserted inside the stomachs of midgets. It's an unlikely, inexpensive and amazingly painful process. I hate midgets as much as everybody else does, so what I object to isn't so much the organized cruelty directed at the horrible little creatures as it is the soulless mechanization of cruelty for profit. How crass. Where is the creativity, Apple? What about cruelty for cruelty's sake? Sellouts.

(also, this explains why iPhones smell)

4) They are made out of a special poison that seeps into your skin every time you nonchalantly "demo" one of their features. It's not personal; your eventual brain-death is just a sort of cosmic balancing. Karma is quiet and cruel.

5) After 3 months they explode, killing dozens.

6) You're a gay sucker for owning one.

8) I will suck your cock if you give me one. I will lick your pussy until my back is cramping and you're sopping down my chin, complaining of "too many orgasms." Just give me one, already. Jesus. What do I have to do? Defeat the devil in an arm wrestling competition? Grow a third cock? Learn to knit? Be an alien from outerspace? Slay a giant and meditate in a cave made from his entrails? TELL ME. GIVE ME. PLEASE ME. iPHONE ME.

QUICK THOUGHTS pt2

It's easy to get wrapped up in our daily lives, isn't it? Distracted by the minutiae and mundanities of existence in this crazy world, it's easy to lose sight of the big questions.
Questions such as:

"Should unicorns marry, and have children?"

Or, "Should unicorns marry lions or only other unicorns?"

Often these important questions go unanswered, or worse yet, unconsidered.
Not so with the good people at UNICORNSUNITED! They are fighting the good fight! Check out their AWESOME poetry section!

QUICK THOUGHTS pt1

Last night i was beating a midget and drinking my favorite drink (2 parts jim beam black, 1 part insect-selective neurotoxin "J-ACTXs" (culled from the sensual, but faithless, australian funnel spider)) and mentally rehearsing an upcoming speech I was to give, but my rehearsal was cut short. The language center of my brain had been overridden, and all I could do was visualize primes in a descending order of value, begun at arbitrarily "selected" junctures which rotated at seeming random, totally out of my control. I was aphasic, luminous, deranged. My nerves were jagged and buzzing. Also, I had a hard on the size of my mom.

But I just kept on beating that midget.

Sometimes, that's all you can do.

MY PECKER IS AWESOME by Theron Jacobs

My pecker gave up sailing, many years ago. Sometimes he misses it.

My pecker would really like to go to Japan one day.

My pecker doesn't give a fuck, son.

My pecker is fucking crazy.

My pecker has a profound respect for unicorns. Even though he sometimes drinks their blood.

My pecker's made a deal with the midgets under my bed. Business is business.

My pecker smokes when he thinks I'm not looking.

My pecker keeps a journal. In it, he writes about things I "just wouldn't understand."

My pecker eats babies.

My pecker was raised by wolves. When my pecker got old enough, he killed them in the name of his dark gods.

My pecker likes the sound of cellos.

My pecker speaks German.

Sometimes, my pecker has terrible nightmares. In the morning, he pretends nothing happened.

My pecker wants to shoot lasers out his peehole so bad he can feel it.

My pecker wishes he were young again.

My pecker takes time to smell the roses.

My pecker likes bright colors and sounds. Also, puppies. Puppies make my pecker smile.

My pecker has trust issues. Don't fuck with him.

My pecker will hunt you down, kill you and eat your young, if you give him half a chance.

My pecker is from the future.

My pecker is 20 ft tall and can fly and is made out of martian diamonds and lasers and AWESOME.

My pecker loves me. Very, very much.

PROOF

For proof that, even after five long months of decadent neglect, my blog is still the best thing ever, please carefully review the following.

I can't stop beaming with pride!

This information was provided to me by the folks at "eXTReMe tracking," who, despite their insipid efforts to ingratiate themselves with quirkily capitolizing teenagers, are really very clever. Or maybe they are not, I really have no frame of reference. All I really care about is that the service is free and allows me to monitor how many people have been to my blog, see how they got there, and learn, more or less, where they are located (or were located when they viewed my blog). Very interesting stuff!

Notice to all readers: since I am a desperate, approval-starved panderer, this blog will, from this point on, feature at least one reference to "ass cream," "amputees" or "lulu lamer" per post.

One must please one's fans!

Hahahahahah! I shall now quit this blog in favor of the consumption of tremendous amounts of wine. Red wine. Which I intend to drink straight from the fucking bottle because I am a savage. Give me half a chance and I will scalp you and make a soup out of your soft, salty flesh.

love,
theron.