Which one of you sick fucks searched for “oompah loompahs being fist fucked” and managed to find my site?
Okay, first of all, why do you want to see/read/know about such a thing? Secondly, are you thinking about the freaky orange oompah loompahs or the more contemporary Deep Roy version? Thirdly, why the flippity-fuck would my site come up? It’s not like I talk about fist-fucking all that often, in fact I suspect I have probably talked about it no more than once or twice in the almost 5 years I’ve had this site. And oompah loompahs? What? Yeah, alright, I might talk about them more often, and definitely more often than I talk about the good old fist-fuck.
And I don’t ever talk about fist-fucking oompah loompahs. Seriously, you’d get your fist stuck in there and you’d have a freaky orange thing attached to you and you can be sure that will not go over well at the next senior management meeting!
Higgins! What’s that on your hand??
An Oompah Loompah, sir…
An Oompah Loompah…on your hand…attached by his anus???
yes…sir
Now I can understand trying to find me with phrases like “bakers square early bird specials” or “saab blinker too noisy” or even “snot running back of throat”. These are all things I’ve actually written about!
Man, this is as messed up as the time I wrote about analworld.com and ended up with a million hits from people trying to find it. Analworld.com is about anal sex. I just thought I’d mention it.
So, to recap…I just made a post discussing oompah loompahs, fist fucking, fist-fucking some oompah loompahs, analworld and anal sex.
My mother is so terribly proud of me right now.
Daily Archives: January 3, 2006
2006
Happy New Year from the French Quarter. It was crowded and lovely and amazing. We watched the gumbo pot drop (or more specifically, we watched people watch the gumbo pot, we were a little too far back) and we had our midnight kiss. Beautiful.
After the drop we headed over to the Carrolton Station in Midtown to drink in a slightly less crowded environment and watch the world’s second worst cover band. We don’t know who the worst is, but…I have to believe they exist.
David and I at midnight. It’s hard for us to take pictures with one of us holding the camera, he’s so much taller than I am.
David and Marshall! For all the time I’ve spent hanging out with Marshall when I am down there and for all the time I’ve spent on the phone, I was surprised when I realized I had no picture of him (other than the lovely signed photo in my bedroom). Marshall got me a lovely ceramic pair of pigs that defy description. David’s bringing them up with him, I’ll post a picture when they arrive.
Every time I go to New Orleans I fall in love with it a little more. Couple more visits and I might marry the city! Next time, hopefully, the city will be in better condition.
Strangest thing I saw was a giant backhoe in the bayou near David’s parent’s house. Of course I forgot my camera so I have no picture of that or a picture of me in the bayou! Sad. If David has a chance he will try to get out there again to get some pictures.
Not much else to talk about, we didn’t do much in the way of touristy things. It’s funny how you can go on feeling like an adult in most things, but hang out on a twin bed with your boyfriend at his mom’s house and you feel like you’re 16 all over again. Later, Marshall came over and he hung out on the bed while David and I set up the Pictionary game and then I really felt like a teen. I wanted to sneak behind the house and drink a beer.
Okay, pictures posted, I’m off to crochet! Leter, peeps.