unholy dang, it is a new post

hey blog, whoa blog. I know it has been a while since I have talked to you, the internet, so here are some ideas I have been thinking of lately:
-Teaching classes at the Learning Annex that are suited to my areas of expertise. These would be: Grilled Cheese cookery, Minutiae, Discussing the defining features of Bruce Springsteen’s face, Drawing a picture of a dog. If any of these things interest you, call the local community college and let them know I am free most weekends.
-A man getting so excited he can do a couple of amazing feats. These are 1. Playing a trumpet with his ding-dang, and 2. Tearing someone’s head off and throwing it into space, or just tearing apart a roasted chicked really quickly with his bare hands.
-A television special about Bears. Just like, a really good one, not in the vein of a Fox special, but maybe one where they train Pandas to sit around a table and have an English Tea service, or possibly just read an issue of Vogue (probably Australian Vogue). This is what I want to see on television.

Formidable raisins

Someone repositioned the mirror in my bathroom while I was gone so that if you are as tall as I am, a man, and stand peeing while looking in the mirror, you can see your own ding-dang.

All I could think was, ‘Man, that doesn’t look right.’

Just kidding. All I could think was, ‘C’est un racine formidable.’

Still kidding. I was really thinking about balloons and bumblebees and a ham sandwich.

Pee pee paroxysms

I have been saving this story for some time, and now blog, I think things are ready.

I was recently in the lavoratory when a man walked in and started using the adjacent urinal. He was an older man, probably a tenured professor. His business was done sooner than mine and when finished, he got to shaking- furiously. It was frightening. I was afraid that he was mad at his ding-dang and almost interceded on its behalf. There was a lot of grunting and whipping and several times he rose to his toes and dropped hard to his heels. I had to close my eyes and imagine bumblebees attacking Roger Daltry inside of a green balloon just to finish my communion.

Man, shake it, don’t break it; it took your momma nine months to make it.