Stupid Eyelids...

I have this problem. No, it's not the set of male/female sex organs that I've mentioned before. Just kidding. Dude, like I would mention it to you! I wouldn't be writing.I'd be humping myself - what d' ya think I am? Stupid? You know what? Now that I think of it - having a set of both male and female sex organs might be a tad difficult to afford. You would have to buy douche and condoms. A true gentleman cares about his vaginal hygiene. Condoms would be a necessity so as not to get one's own self preggers. And if you were a true hermaphrodite and had an uncanny piano playing ability, would that mean that you fluently played three organs? It would be a stretch not only in the pants, but in the wallet, like I said because you would have to spring for dinner for yourself, and drive a fancy car so that you could get into your own pants. Masturbation might prove to be a decisive battleground. What to do, how to, and with what? Looking into purchasing those electric shocky-pad-thingies that they use on dead people in the emergency rooms might be a wise investment, if you just stuck it down your pants and turned it on and off, maybe that'd do the trick. Check Ebay. I don't know.

See what happens? I fell asleep, by accident. I hate sleep. I was going to write about an old friend from high school.

Now I'm going to get even more weird web hits. In this post alone I've mentioned:

Male
Female
Humping
Sex Organs
Douche
Condoms
Vaginal Hygiene
Preggers
Hermephrodite
Masturbation
and Ebay.

Combine that with Fat Free Milk, and I'm going to have quite the interesting assortment of google searches cum tomorrow.

Mother would be proud.

Stupid eyelids.

One Of These Days...

I want to buy a bunch of Duraflame firelogs and light them all, and spell out something to a passing plane. I dont know what. But I want to do it.

And I won't make the same mistake that Gilligan made in the episode when the castaways used Mr. Howell's brandy to light some palm tree trunks on fire. For some reason, astronauts were orbiting low, the Professor figured out that they would be seen, so they spelled out SOS. Gilligan did something stupid and messed it up so that it spelled out SOL - which was the name of one of the passing astronauts.

I could be lazy and just spell out a bad word. But then Gilligan might mess that up too, and the passing plane would wonder why I spelled out "Fork You".

I've Got A Bad Feeling About This...

You ever have one of those days when you just dont feel so fresh inside? That's why I use...just kidding. No, this isn't about douche. It may be the written equivalent of douche, I don't know. No. I was going to to say that's it's dark now. Daytime is done. I didn't do much. Little things. Nothing special. But you ever have one of those days that make you feel a little uneasy? Like you've forgotten something important? That something is wrong or that something bad might happen? It makes me feel weird, yo.

And these feelings can't be associated with poo, because I just did that - and my sense of foreboding is still here.

Aliens Don't Need Jamie Escalante To Teach Their Children Calculus...

If intelligent life exists somewhere else in the universe, have they visited Earth?
Some say they have repeatedly in the past. Some say they are monitoring us presently.
Some say they live among us. Some say they secretly run the world. Some say they want our world for themselves.

Are we being studied?

And if we are, why haven't they made their presence known in a more direct manner?
If people believe in omnipotent, all-seeing, all-creating gods, and devils with cloven feet and pitchforks - why not believe in skinny, big-eyed aliens playing on planet Earth?
Why aren't aliens knocking on our door with pamphlets containing something other than Mormon literature? Why aren't beings from another world spamming me? Where are my extraterrestrial pop up ads?

If aliens exist, why aren't they fucking the shit up?

Because everybody knows that you shouldn't knock on the glass. You shouldn't stick your fingers in the water too much - especially without washing them. It's better for the fish if you just sit back and look at them.

Because you feel a little guilty riling up the ant hill.

Because you never know what you're going to catch playing with stray animals.

Because if you pay too much attention to them, they'll follow you home.

Because if you play with them too much, the mother will smell you on them and then abandon them.

Because nobody likes to break up a dog fight.

Titles I Didn't Use For This Post...


Shop Smart...Shop...S-Mart...
My Pig Brick...
The Hitchhikers Guide To Your Moms House...
The Fucked And The Furious...
Axe Deodarant Body Spray For Men...

Frodo Lives...

My writing has been ultimate-sucky-poo-poo lately. Even more so than usual, I mean.
I promise to do better. I swear. No, really. I mean it. I really do. I've just been busy.

My New Years Resolution is to not feed you bloggy-crap.

And to say, Penis. Tits. Fuck. Young. Old. Sucking. Mothers. Free. Iraq. Mac. Apple. MSN. Star Wars. Brittney Spears. Joe Millionaire. Download. Porn. Movies. Micheal Jackson. and. Anal.

In order to get more web hits.

Love,

Kevynn Malone

The Possiblities...

I don't remember how I found this, but it's interesting for a short bit. Apparently this guy hooked up various lights and knickknacks around his house to the internet. Too bad he didn't take it to the extreme. I'd like to see a house that was controlled by random freaks on the internet more. Imagine how annoying it would be to go to the bathroom if some freak in Kansas kept on turning the light off on you. Or if you had to wade through a sea of dildos hanging from the ceiling -everybody else has those too, right? - You know, those dildos hanging from the ceiling that give out electric shocks? What? I don't know. I'd like to see somebody's computers and tv's turned on at full volume in the middle of the night. How about controlling somebody's thermostat? How about I shut up because this was a stupid post and go ahead already and check out the guy sitting in front of his computer, turn his lights on and off, be entertained for 57 seconds and then go back to looking at porn.

Remember to send me the good stuff.

Work Is Good For Something...

Use their high speed internet connection and check out this...
I'd watch more commercials if I could see them this way.

That sucked...

I was talking about my girlfriend's reactions to the movie Wild At Heart. I talked about Sailor Ripley smashing that guys head at the beginning. My girlfriend said, "oh!" I talked about the soundtrack and how good it is and how I always loan out crap to people and they never give it back. My memory is horrible, so I tend to forget. So I said that I gave up trying to share things with friends. Let them focus on their overcooked McDonalds hamburgers and pregnancy test results instead. I told you that I went to the grocery store after work and that I've noticed that I spend most of my money on liquids. Cleaning products, liquid detergents, bleach, beer, cigarettes don't count even if it is expensive-lung cancer-air-stuff. Beer? I'll stop buying it when you stop watching J-LO movies, beating your children, and smoking your crack.

And...i forget what else I was talking about before blogger made my previous post disappear. (I have a horrible memory, remember?)

So...got any old receipts from your last grocery store visit?
Or what did you buy last time you were there?

No. Porn doesn't count Fucktard.

Shong Story Lort...

Woke up.
Work.
After, I had about fifteen minutes until friends arrived for our spur-of-the-moment-dinner-thingy.
We ate.
We drank.
We played UNO.
We talked to my robot.
(he's included in my LINKS section, y'know.)
Then our friends left.
Then WE ate...
I drank...
and then told you about...
When I...
Woke up.
I said talked about...
Work.
Then I said...
After, I had about fifteen minutes until friends arrived for our spur-of-the-moment-dinner-thingy.
And then I told you about how...
We ate.
And how...
We drank.
And how...
We played UNO.
And how...
We talked to my robot.
(he's included in my LINKS section, y'know.)
Then our friends left.
Then WE ate...
and I drank...
some more...


Mommy.

Save me.