I wish the media would show more coverage of Obama. Sniff. Sniff. Smell that? That’s sarcasm.
I haven’t written since last week because I’ve been sick. Writer’s Cock, or WC, is a seldom diagnosed medical condition that causes a decrease in the desire to write due to an uncontrollable urge for pussy.
You know, I used to wonder why a woman would ever hook up with me. Actually, I wonder why women hook up with men at all. But God has been very kind to me, and I learned years ago not to question his will.
One Saturday at the track in the late 1990’s, a bartender in the clubhouse told me that a few of the female tellers were attracted to me.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah. They think you’re rich.”
I immediately walked over to the prettiest one, bet $40 across the board on a first-time starter at Santa Anita, and then asked for her phone number.
Later that night we went six furlongs inside her mobile home.
Yeah, she looks so right. She’s all I need tonight.
Are those cadavers feet?
Obama.
The one with the painted toenails is your mom. I’ll let you guess who the the other one belongs to. Wink.
Naw!…my mom would be the hairy leg….good try!….but she’s a huge republican so I doubt she’s a lesbo!…