Dear vast international pop vulture fan community,
I realize that I may have let you down in that I have not responded personally to as many of your questions as would behoove me. I regret that I have great demands on my time as a certified God of Thunder. Rest assured that when I am not fighting epic magic ninja battles to secure the fate of your world, I am thinking hard about you: Otto in Ohio, who is being bullied because he got his right ear pierced without knowing the cultural significance; Marty in Michigan, who wants to know whether to put a potato in the muffler of his step-dad's camaro, or just cut his throat in his sleep; and especially you Fanny in Fargo - keep sending me those 'special pictures.'
In an attempt to prove my devotion to the pop-vulture nation I recently descended from my high perch to visit one lucky reader in person to discuss his issues. Willie in West Oakland had written me a few weeks back about some trouble he was having with his high school geography homework, and, ironically, finding Willie was more difficult than I anticipated.
When I first arrived in beautiful West Oakland I asked the first person I saw, a local crack-head, if he knew Willie, but he couldn't answer because he was using his mouth to tear open paper salt packets to put on a hardboiled egg he was trying to eat in the middle of a busy thoroughfare.
The next person I met was raking his sidewalk while paramedics extracted gunshot victims from the top floor of his duplex. "Willie!? That kid hella stupid. He live two blocks that way." I thanked him for his kindness (he had also told me where I could score some dope) and went on my way.
When I did finally meet Willie, he was sitting on the stoop in front of his building with his eyes rolled back in his head and a needle hanging out of his arm. I assumed he must be diabetic and that his blood sugar was low, so he was napping for a bit. To pass the time I made my way to one of West Oakland's 53 conveniently located liquor stores, talked politics with some locals, and attended a block party where the girls were 'shakin their thangs,' but when I returned Willie was gone. I can only assume he had gone to seek a tutor. Good for you Willie!
Incidentally, I saw an ambulance pull away from in front of Willie's house, but I was too wasted to notice it at the time. I'm sure it was nothing.
Until next time, say not to drugs, at least until you are old enough to claim you are 'peacefully descenting,' then you can do all the drugs you want.
Love,
The God of Thunder
Friday, March 7, 2008
Lord Jowlmonger VIII says:
No, no, no to the both of your flabbergasting. Reading your prose is like a delicious popover, fancy on the outside but filled with fluffy homo erotic yeast surplus. I say you two remind of the time I walked in on Count Craig Wood of Devonshire and his male knight Eric Bagetta, the village queer. Count Wood had a rare unicorn horn shoved so far into his hind quarters, that he appeared to be a yoked bovine! I say you could store a fortnight of grain in his rectum after the strapping Sir Bagetta finished him off.
If you really wish to gaze under the frock of a pre-teen, you must first entice them to explore the humbling option of the codpiece. It is nearly as delicious as it sounds and it truly accentuates the genitals of a junior knight in training.
No, no, no to the both of your flabbergasting. Reading your prose is like a delicious popover, fancy on the outside but filled with fluffy homo erotic yeast surplus. I say you two remind of the time I walked in on Count Craig Wood of Devonshire and his male knight Eric Bagetta, the village queer. Count Wood had a rare unicorn horn shoved so far into his hind quarters, that he appeared to be a yoked bovine! I say you could store a fortnight of grain in his rectum after the strapping Sir Bagetta finished him off.
If you really wish to gaze under the frock of a pre-teen, you must first entice them to explore the humbling option of the codpiece. It is nearly as delicious as it sounds and it truly accentuates the genitals of a junior knight in training.
Coach Dick Rubs says:
What kind of knuckle head are you Mr. Tasty 69, (you're not fooling anyone with your clever sum +1 name) Mr. Shwety Balzac, its all about function and comfort. Have you ever seen a young man with a chaffed grundle? A case of jock itch so bad you couldn't tell if he had been blown by raccoon or been jerked of by Edward Scissor Hands? If bleeding from your undercarriage doesn't stop you from wearing those damn boxers let me tell you about my college roommate.
Back in the, "days of your" when I was playing college football, we were all about being as masculine as possible; wearing boxers, not showering, not orally consuming pussy, drinking beer instead of Gatorade, peeing on our friends heads when they were passed out, listening to the Beach Boys so loud the RA's would flip their shit and nearly commit suicide. Things went as such for sometime until my roommate came to me with a little problem, he exclaimed, "Dick! My balls hurt so much when I try and have sex that sometimes I just fake ejaculate, pull out and apologize for my issues with pre-mature ejaculation." I told him he was a pussy and he should drink a beer. His girlfriend told him otherwise and after a short visit with the RN on campus he was diagnosed with Polio and died later that semester. There is 3 lessons to be learned from all of this, wear briefs, shower and don't listing to women, otherwise you'll get Polio.
Hit the showers!
Coach Dickey Rubs
What kind of knuckle head are you Mr. Tasty 69, (you're not fooling anyone with your clever sum +1 name) Mr. Shwety Balzac, its all about function and comfort. Have you ever seen a young man with a chaffed grundle? A case of jock itch so bad you couldn't tell if he had been blown by raccoon or been jerked of by Edward Scissor Hands? If bleeding from your undercarriage doesn't stop you from wearing those damn boxers let me tell you about my college roommate.
Back in the, "days of your" when I was playing college football, we were all about being as masculine as possible; wearing boxers, not showering, not orally consuming pussy, drinking beer instead of Gatorade, peeing on our friends heads when they were passed out, listening to the Beach Boys so loud the RA's would flip their shit and nearly commit suicide. Things went as such for sometime until my roommate came to me with a little problem, he exclaimed, "Dick! My balls hurt so much when I try and have sex that sometimes I just fake ejaculate, pull out and apologize for my issues with pre-mature ejaculation." I told him he was a pussy and he should drink a beer. His girlfriend told him otherwise and after a short visit with the RN on campus he was diagnosed with Polio and died later that semester. There is 3 lessons to be learned from all of this, wear briefs, shower and don't listing to women, otherwise you'll get Polio.
Hit the showers!
Coach Dickey Rubs
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Dear PopVultures, boxers or briefs? Many thanks,
Mr. Schwety Balzac
mrtasty68+1 replies:
A tantalizing question suited just for me. When talking about undergarments u need to decide: style or cumfort? In anal-yzing style, u need to consider the situation. For the most part people will not c your underwear but that doesnt mean that u shouldnt be fun with them! lol! Black underwear will most likely cover up most embarassing stains in case any situations arise where they will be seen. Black boxers and briefs both look good hanging out of pants or shorts or mouths - because theyre meant 2 be hidden doesnt mean have to be as they can be a very stylish and sexy accessory with all outfits. 2 really show off the undies I would advocate boys wear a shorter shirt, maybe 1 that goes just above the belly button 2 show off a treasure trail if 1 has begun. Another way 2 draw attention 2 the fundies (rofl) is 2 wear tight pants, the tighter the better. Tight pants can be real magnifying in certain areas which means we can be friends, lol!!!
Since cumfort and style go hand in hand we can continue this. Personally, I think the most cumfortable underwear is none at all. That's right, I wear none at all, it makes things quicker. At the pajama parties I throw when school is canceled due 2 snow or phoned in bomb threats, I like it when my friends are cumfortable. Boxers, briefs, thongs - they all cum in Mickey Mouse and Calvin and Hobbes designs which are all the rage at recess, look good sticking out of tight pants, and look better when fully visible at my parties. I find that button flies are a pain and restrict proper air flow. Stay away from them! The best part about underwear is that it cums off so easy when u need it 2, handy dandy!
My answer is that it doesnt matter if u wear boxers or briefs as long as: they look good, they are cumfortable, and you cum to my pajama parties in them! If you want to cum, which you do because I do, then hit me up at mrtasty68+1 and make sure there are no POS, lmao!!!
Mr. Schwety Balzac
mrtasty68+1 replies:
A tantalizing question suited just for me. When talking about undergarments u need to decide: style or cumfort? In anal-yzing style, u need to consider the situation. For the most part people will not c your underwear but that doesnt mean that u shouldnt be fun with them! lol! Black underwear will most likely cover up most embarassing stains in case any situations arise where they will be seen. Black boxers and briefs both look good hanging out of pants or shorts or mouths - because theyre meant 2 be hidden doesnt mean have to be as they can be a very stylish and sexy accessory with all outfits. 2 really show off the undies I would advocate boys wear a shorter shirt, maybe 1 that goes just above the belly button 2 show off a treasure trail if 1 has begun. Another way 2 draw attention 2 the fundies (rofl) is 2 wear tight pants, the tighter the better. Tight pants can be real magnifying in certain areas which means we can be friends, lol!!!
Since cumfort and style go hand in hand we can continue this. Personally, I think the most cumfortable underwear is none at all. That's right, I wear none at all, it makes things quicker. At the pajama parties I throw when school is canceled due 2 snow or phoned in bomb threats, I like it when my friends are cumfortable. Boxers, briefs, thongs - they all cum in Mickey Mouse and Calvin and Hobbes designs which are all the rage at recess, look good sticking out of tight pants, and look better when fully visible at my parties. I find that button flies are a pain and restrict proper air flow. Stay away from them! The best part about underwear is that it cums off so easy when u need it 2, handy dandy!
My answer is that it doesnt matter if u wear boxers or briefs as long as: they look good, they are cumfortable, and you cum to my pajama parties in them! If you want to cum, which you do because I do, then hit me up at mrtasty68+1 and make sure there are no POS, lmao!!!
Friday, January 25, 2008
My fiancé and I are planning a destination wedding, and what we were planning was that the wedding party would stay 4 days and three nights. On the third night would be the ceremony and the wedding party would say goodbye to us that night since our honeymoon has begun and go home so that we may have our honeymoon at the destination for the next seven days. My mother in law insists on staying ten minutes away during the honeymoon with children from the bride's High School boyfriend, extending her vacation for the next 7 days. She is paying for her own flights and hotel. I don't know how to react to this. I certainly do not want my mother in law nor anyone else even in the vicinity of our honeymoon. What do I do?
Kenny the Koward, Crater Falls, Kansas
Coach Dick Rubs replies:
You're in deep son. Mother in laws don't make friends they just make problems. What you have to remember is "mother in laws" are women, so believe it or not, they have vaginas too. Except these are the kind of snooches you can't pound, oh no, these ones will just annoy the balls off of you until you finally give up, get bombed off a liter of Wild Turkey and orally beat the shit out of her.
These women who make up the class of mother in laws, aren't as tough as they like to think they are. By acting out and pretending you don't matter they are rebelling against the men who controlled there lives for 25 years. What must be recalled is that the men of their generation still partook in many of the great social laws that were set down by our Protestant forefathers "no foreplay, and only men get off". So unless you want to give your mother in law the first orgasm off her life, you're chained to the ball of sheep's existence.
I'll tell you son, you can either tell this whore off before she packs up your wife and kids and moves to Missouri with them or bang the shit out of her and end up on the Sally Jessie Raphael show in the middle of a love triangle. One things for certain, that pussies angry and it aint going to go away on its own, you control your fate on this one. So until you off the bitch or get her off you're going to be controlled by a vage. Remember a women doesn't have a pussy, it has you.
Give me 20- Coach
Kenny the Koward, Crater Falls, Kansas
Coach Dick Rubs replies:
You're in deep son. Mother in laws don't make friends they just make problems. What you have to remember is "mother in laws" are women, so believe it or not, they have vaginas too. Except these are the kind of snooches you can't pound, oh no, these ones will just annoy the balls off of you until you finally give up, get bombed off a liter of Wild Turkey and orally beat the shit out of her.
These women who make up the class of mother in laws, aren't as tough as they like to think they are. By acting out and pretending you don't matter they are rebelling against the men who controlled there lives for 25 years. What must be recalled is that the men of their generation still partook in many of the great social laws that were set down by our Protestant forefathers "no foreplay, and only men get off". So unless you want to give your mother in law the first orgasm off her life, you're chained to the ball of sheep's existence.
I'll tell you son, you can either tell this whore off before she packs up your wife and kids and moves to Missouri with them or bang the shit out of her and end up on the Sally Jessie Raphael show in the middle of a love triangle. One things for certain, that pussies angry and it aint going to go away on its own, you control your fate on this one. So until you off the bitch or get her off you're going to be controlled by a vage. Remember a women doesn't have a pussy, it has you.
Give me 20- Coach
Thursday, January 24, 2008
I just turned 16 but have recently begun interacting with a 34-year old man I met over myspace. He tells me I am so pretty and I am in love with him. I think we should meet, but I don't want him to meet me and hate me. What should I do?
Surfing for a man, Middlebury, Vt.
Dr. Joyce Smotherbox replies:
Listen honey, when I was your age I too was looking for Mr. Right in all the wrong places. But in your case it sounds like you found him.
Bet you didn't see that one coming.
Now I'm sure that family and friends alike have told you that this guy is probably more like 56 and balding with a beer belly that would make Richard Simmons lose an erection quicker than Michael Jackson in a nursing home. They are probably telling you that this man is dangerous and giving you some spiel about internet predators.
Well sweety, Dr. Joyce is going to let you in on a little secret: Love can be tough, and sometimes you have to get raped by a seedy old man you meet on the internet in order to find a great guy online who will treat you like a princess.
You are old enough now to know what is right in your heart. It sounds like you really love this man and if he loves you now, he will surely love you twice as much after he meets you and finds out that you really are 16 and really do have a 16-year old pussy waiting for him between your thighs.
So get out there and make love happen.
The Doctor is out
Surfing for a man, Middlebury, Vt.
Dr. Joyce Smotherbox replies:
Listen honey, when I was your age I too was looking for Mr. Right in all the wrong places. But in your case it sounds like you found him.
Bet you didn't see that one coming.
Now I'm sure that family and friends alike have told you that this guy is probably more like 56 and balding with a beer belly that would make Richard Simmons lose an erection quicker than Michael Jackson in a nursing home. They are probably telling you that this man is dangerous and giving you some spiel about internet predators.
Well sweety, Dr. Joyce is going to let you in on a little secret: Love can be tough, and sometimes you have to get raped by a seedy old man you meet on the internet in order to find a great guy online who will treat you like a princess.
You are old enough now to know what is right in your heart. It sounds like you really love this man and if he loves you now, he will surely love you twice as much after he meets you and finds out that you really are 16 and really do have a 16-year old pussy waiting for him between your thighs.
So get out there and make love happen.
The Doctor is out
Saturday, January 19, 2008
I own a 1994 Geo Prism. Any suggestions as to what sweet things I can do with my new ride?
Lively Young Lad
Goth Kid replies:
Sweet things? What's a sweet thing anyway? Sweet is a physiological response by the human tongue to certain chemicals, a taste sensation, that's all. A sensation is a feeling, it's only a lie created by the government to sell flowers and chocolate that go on the polished cherry tables so common in the nuclear family household as part of the "American Dream." If only the nuclear family was a lot less family and a lot more nuclear so the unstable particles shot through every flesh being on this spherical wasteland, mutating every human into a tormented skin sac so they all can finally feel the agony that courses through my veins like a lethal injection.
Cars are machines, gears and cogs creating a mechanism that moves back and forth like every John and Jane Doe to their corporate graves. I had a car once. When I sat in that pleather bucket seat I became part of the machine, part of this conformist world that runs on the liquid remains of every decaying being that wandered aimlessly toward that final pit of despair.
So you want to know some "sweet" things to do with that car? Put on your black clothes, black eyeliner, and skull earrings, drive to the nearest mall parking lot, get your goth friends in the car with you, run a tube from the exhaust pipe into the front window, play Marilyn Manson, turn the key, and enjoy your last minutes of gloom before eternal darkness envelops you. Or do some donuts.
Lively Young Lad
Goth Kid replies:
Sweet things? What's a sweet thing anyway? Sweet is a physiological response by the human tongue to certain chemicals, a taste sensation, that's all. A sensation is a feeling, it's only a lie created by the government to sell flowers and chocolate that go on the polished cherry tables so common in the nuclear family household as part of the "American Dream." If only the nuclear family was a lot less family and a lot more nuclear so the unstable particles shot through every flesh being on this spherical wasteland, mutating every human into a tormented skin sac so they all can finally feel the agony that courses through my veins like a lethal injection.
Cars are machines, gears and cogs creating a mechanism that moves back and forth like every John and Jane Doe to their corporate graves. I had a car once. When I sat in that pleather bucket seat I became part of the machine, part of this conformist world that runs on the liquid remains of every decaying being that wandered aimlessly toward that final pit of despair.
So you want to know some "sweet" things to do with that car? Put on your black clothes, black eyeliner, and skull earrings, drive to the nearest mall parking lot, get your goth friends in the car with you, run a tube from the exhaust pipe into the front window, play Marilyn Manson, turn the key, and enjoy your last minutes of gloom before eternal darkness envelops you. Or do some donuts.
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