I'm listening to Lou Reed's "Ecstasy" album right now, feeling pretty fucking tough, pretty fucking cool. Why you ask? I'll tell you why, bitch! It's because I just fixed my desk's homemade keyboard tray! It took a hammer, some swearing, ten minutes, and a small army of screwdrivers, but I fucking did it!
Yeah. That's the ticket. Fight entropy. Fight Decay. Why give in? Why give life the fucking pleasure? Why not take a few punches, get up off the mat, and smack life right back? Why not stick to your diet, your newest project?
Maybe I should become a life coach. You can pay me in hugs and taco kissess.
18 comments:
I am terrified.
Why? You don't want to hug me?
Dear Life Coach,
I am out of milk. What should I do?
Alex
First, you need to rent a cow. May I suggest a rent-to-own plan? Then you wait to 5 Am when it's really cold out, put on some overalls, and go out to your barn and pull on the cows nipple sack. The milk will be warm and steamy. after this, you will never want to drink milk again and your supply problem will be solved.
yikes.
i won't tell anyone that your box of legos is bigger than your tool box.
Thank you, S.G. I appreciate that.
Wait a second.
You just told the world!
The world wide web!
Dear Life Coach,
What does it mean when one of my students is all up in the grill of two male teachers at school, but then turns around and hugs me 10 minutes later. Am I gonna get my car jacked?
Becca
Dave, I have no idea what a taco kiss is, but your Life Coach plan sounds brilliant.
Becca,
If female, your student might "Play for the other team". High school is a time of sexy, sexy sexual confusion. I should know, I was in love with a vending machine for a torrid six months of chocolatey love. Either male or female, I would suggest, nay, imply, that you must wear a nice perfume or something.
Shorty,
Taco kisses are a reference to a South Park episode where Cartman pretend a painted mouth on his hand is the real Jennifer Lopez. It's a hilarious, twisted episode from the 7th season.
Thank you for the compliment. Sometimes I have so many brilliant ideas I need someone to point out the extra shiny ones. It's one of the dangers of being such a profound thinker.
"I should know, I was in love with a vending machine for a torrid six months of chocolatey love."
DYING of LAUGHTER!
Phew, thanks, I needed that.
Dave, do you want to go to Taco Bell?
Yes, G-Dog.
Yes I do.
And I deserve it, because I've been dieting and have lost 10 pounds.
Fuck ya!
WOW!! You are really taking care of business, Blogagaard!
Thanks Coach Dave! You really saved the day. The student in question is a 9th grade boy. I'll try to turn his affection toward the nearest vending machine for some chocolately love.
Rand Park to me
More options 8:27 pm (4 hours ago)
I want to post this comment but Blogger won't let me!
Here we go:
"This entire post and series of comments is the highlight of blogger, nay the entire world wide web, today.
You fucking rock the house, bloggy taco-kissing chocolate-vendo-loving insane genius keyboard-tray-fixing Bloggagaaaard!
Thank you for your brilliant ideas, profound thinking cow renting 9th grade lesbian pondering word typing savant-man-child.
Bloggy!"
Now I'm out of bananas.
You're sick, Alex. Sick.
Alex, did you hide Bloggy's banana?
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