A Mayonnaise Thing

Hold your sack up? WTF

WE TOOK THE OKLAHOMA CIRCLE JERK AND RAN WITH IT

You know what? I thought that we had a bit of an inside joke thing going when we first started the whole bukkake business ….Unbeknownst to any of us, Bukkake has spread across the country and infected the globe like Jala Viranda  did to the 2006 PSU Football team. I can remember a time when just saying the word made us giggle like little school girls. Now look at us... Now we have tarps and scream masks. And, now, one of us has a list of Asian hookers on his speed dial that have added Bukkake to their bachelor party brochures. Let’s not forget about the Christmas Eve Bukkake party that has been in the planning phase for 3 years now… I don’t want to give anything away on here, but, Lyndice turned 18…… I can name at least a half a dozen times in the last year that I’ve mentioned Bukkake to a random person I just met and they looked at me like “OMG this guy is a Bukkaker?”.... then they give me a subtle wink like we are in some kind of club founded by Tyler Durden from FIGHT CLUB…..

Guys…… It’s Big!!! It’s bigger than we ever thought it would be…. The 80’s had “TOP GUN”, the 90’s had OJ Simpson, 2000’s had the PT Cruiser, But in 2011 its BUKKAKE……World!!! GET THE TARP OUT!!!  Because, every girl with daddy issues will soon have her face cummed on by multiple men, all at the same time.

Hey Fellas

The word on the street is that my blog is catching on amongst my circle of friends who enjoy this kind of sick and twisted shit. lets all keep in mind that you folks back home need to keep this little nugget of humor to yourselves.....Consider it the trust tree.....your in the nest.....lets not ruin this cuz i may get carried away and i don't want to be accused of some kind of cyber crime. but please feel free to post any comments or links to help keep my creative juices flowing. I miss all you fuckers back home.....and as the late and great STEVEN R PALLUCA would say......"LETS GET SOME HOOKERS!!!!"

Fag of the week

This week's fag is someone I truly would enjoy watching on Tube 8 under the title "BUKKAKE FEST".....I would enjoy it more then the last epic video "8 girls no cup"......I'm not saying that you would ever catch me with my pants around my ankles with a finger up my ass. I'm just saying sick humor is why i wake up in the morning.

Congratulations Jesse Hudson, Your a FAG!!!!

Announcements

Tyler and Ashleigh are expecting. I was not personally called with the
exciting news…I wonder why?

Scissor Sisters

Chelsey Johnson is not actually in Virginia, but in an abortion clinic in Kansas
City. Apparently, after inserting a condom into her squid-mitten, Lacey
attached the other end to a water hose in order to “spice up” their sex
life. The two began making out while the hose was turned on and completely
forgotten about, lost in an orgy of ecstasy. The next thing they heard was
a loud pop, an orgasmic scream from Chelsey, and a flood of water out of her
meat locker. The incident was just noted as another wild, lesbian sex
affair until two days later, Chelsey (and everyone around her) could smell
the foulest of foul fish emanating from her nethers. The two attempted to
cover the smell with Febreeze, mayonnaise, and Lysol, gaining a nasty yeast
infection instead. The two then deduced that the water hose had impregnated
Chelsey, and subsequently drove to an abortion clinic in Kansas City as their
white-bread mother had taught them to always do in said situation. The
doctors then discovered the actual source of the smell: dozens of condom
pieces attached to her uterus, fallopian tubes, and cervix, decomposing from
vagina enzymes into a glue-like ectoplasm. Chelsey now gets her cut-up
squirrel vacuumed twice a day by a specialist until the “glue” is gone. So
Virginia actually equals Vagina.

Love is in the air

Guess what guys? McKee is in love again! This time with a girl from
Texas. In fact, he drove there recently to be with her for 5 days. He
loves her so much, that the night after he came back from Texas, he screwed a
random girl he met at Bootleggers.

 

SLICK OL' RICK

Ricky met a new girl on his MSN. Giving in to his predatory nature, he
lured her to his house using cuddly words such as “banana.” Anna, whose
name rhymes with banana drove to Ricky’s house. Ricky said
hello, and that’s all Anna needed to begin fucking him. As Ricky was
attempting to put the first dash in the wood paneling above his bed while
screwing Anna, he accidentally came in her. Doing what his father taught
him to always do in said situation; he tied a shopping bag around her head
and threw her body into the Fred Brann Pitt. A lake that will live in infamy

My Summer In Arkansas

So I met a girl in Arkansas, she said she was lost and confused. Well, so was  I. In a big way. Her name was Melly, mine… Tucker. We held each other close, her heart was racing, as mine was also. She asked if we should go to the picture show, I concurred. As we watched a foreign film about god knows what, I clasped onto her breasts, she acknowledged the sexual tension and gave into my meat. We had 3-day sex. Afterwards, I got an ARKANSAS GAZETTE and read about the current events, while she cooked me eggs and beans. After that, I realized that she was the perfect woman, so I bound her, I called her a Cunt, and then I cooked her a chicken dinner. She then ate the dinner I prepared and fell deeply in love with me. I ate her loose meat sandwich. I can’t even begin to describe how much she means to me.

Announcement

Zach got his girlfriend pregnant, and doing what his mother taught him to
always do in said situation, beat the shit out of her to the song “Collide”
by Howie Day. A miscarriage is expected soon, whereupon Zach will announce
his “Miscarriage Party.”

Frustration

So I’m pissed. Not because I have zero tickets to the Miley Cyrus concert. Not
because I can’t get it up, even when I scream psycho babble at my penis. Not
even because I couldn’t go to the best fucking Chief’s game this year
because of the arms-around-the-shoulders incident. You wanna know why I’m
pissed? I’m on a dreaded dry spell ladies and gentlemen. Knock on wood
immediately if you’re getting consistent play, because this shit is fucking
contagious. And here I thought I was vaccinated from the whole thing by
putting together a long term relationship, but apparently that shit only
lasts for a good 3 months, if that. Now I’m not gonna give you an exact
length of time since my last copulation, but I will say that enough time has
gone by where I can only vaguely remember what positions we were in, and the
consummate blood left on my penis after completion. God that blood was
sticky. Back to subject. Everyone says it’s so easy. Its so easy to get
laid, and apparently it is because if the douche bags I run into are getting
laid on a consistent basis, there must really be something wrong with me.
Now, I don’t know if it’s the herpes or the genital warts that somehow crept
up my neck, but I just can’t see what the big roadblock is. I guess what
I’m trying to say is…Becky, are you still as easy as you were a year and a
half ago?

Lets all Take a moment to digest the fact that fat old people like to fuck as hard as the rest of us.

Hedonistic Orgy Marred By Exclusively Overweight, Middle-Aged Participants

NORTH PLATTE, NE–"Aphrodite's Fantasy 2010," a no-holds-barred, free-for-all orgy intended by organizers to be "a week-long carnal smorgasbord of wild, untamed sexual abandon and untold pleasures of the flesh," fell far short of its goal due to the exclusively middle-aged, overweight status of its participants, sources reported Monday.

"Uh, I'd really rather not talk about that," said desk clerk Mustafa al-Aziz of the North Platte Budget Motor Lodge, which has hosted the annual event since 1995. "I think they come here because of our location just off the interstate, I don't know. To be honest, I try not to think about it too much. That's a mental image I just prefer not to have in my brain."

The orgy, hosted by the 175-member, Omaha-based Cornhusker Couples' Connection Club, involved the rental of two of the motel's three floors and drew nearly four dozen couples from across Nebraska.

Unfortunately, none of them even remotely resembled the sort of person with whom one would fantasize about having sex.

"My Margaret and I look forward to this trip each year," said Karl Gustafson, 51, a semi-retired auto-insurance adjuster from Falls City who enjoys barbecues, Yahtzee and golf. "She's a dom into hot bi three-ways, and I enjoy getting [a form of anal/oral gratification] while strapped to a table in a rubber suit."

"That used to be a bit iffy because of my irritable bowel syndrome," added Gustafson, his male-pattern baldness gleaming with the perspiration of his recent exertions. "But lately I've been taking these Fibercon dietary supplements, and it's made a heck of a difference. Look out, ladies, the wild man of Timberbrook Village Condominiums is back in action!"
Though many of the participants somehow managed to greatly enjoy themselves, motel employees reported being notably non-titillated by the mass coupling of massive couples, which began Friday afternoon and is expected to continue through Thursday, barring stoppage due to hernias or fatigue.

"I got a room-service call asking for extra cots, so I had no choice but to go up there," said part-time busboy and maintenance worker Mike Lipton, 19. "The guy came to the door wearing a feather boa, nipple clamps and some sort of tribal grass skirt. He looked just like my late Uncle Murray."

According to nearby residents and police officials, ecstatic moans and screams could be heard coming from the building until well after 3 a.m. Saturday, causing them to feel vaguely queasy and, in some cases, experience nightmares.

Last night on Cheers

Cliff wanted his mom to marry a rich man. Once they
were engaged, Cliff bought the rich man strippers as a gift. The rich man
died from an overly erect penis. Frasier told a bad joke.

Last night on M*A*S*H,

 Hawkeye used a surplus of tongue depressors to
building a castle. When an Army magazine decided to do a story on the
castle, Hawkeye blew it up. Also in this episode, Klinger dressed like a
woman and Father Mulchahey believed in God.

Sexual Predator of the week

Like the Fag of the week post, I would also like to have a Sexual predator of the week post.... this will be a compilation of people I know who have the potential to be a cereal rapist, pedophile, or have certain public masturbatory tendencies......

Congratulations to this weeks winner!!!!!

Joe Halmai- Joe earns his living as a fried chicken expert at the famous Chicken Annie's restraunt in Southeast Kansas. When he's not slicing onion rings he enjoys Finger fucking 8th graders

 

Getting Even

This is a great letter I wrote to a ex, just because......I still look over my shoulder waiting for the bullet I deserve for this one.

Dear Connie,

I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during our
"cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I swore
I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me
talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my
fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my
pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of things.
I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking bad
anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as long as one of us does.

Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is
what my heart says: "There's no one like you, Connie." I look for you in the
eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not
even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her home
with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of
my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies
that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I
mean, just a perfect body. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an ass that
just wouldn't quit, every man's dream, right? But as I sat on the couch
being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made
important in our lives.

It's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her
better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I'm getting at.
Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my
moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of
that before.

I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little. Later, after I'd tossed
her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I
feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless technique or her
slutty, shameless hunger, but something else; some nagging feeling of loss.
Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn't feel the same
because you weren't there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels
the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I'm just going crazy without you. And
everything I do just reminds me of you.

Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last
year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she
figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she
meant till later, but that's not the real story.

Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know, we're
banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the
sack. She's giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when
she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can
hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your
grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it,
right, so we can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad,
too. Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on
the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 4 years, and we never used
it as a sex toy."

Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I
mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her
shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during this painful time.
She's given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general.
She's pulling for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So we're
doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times.
Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think
of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes
me cry.

And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal thing, that gets me
to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how
that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how
even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all I
can do is think of you? It's true, Connie. In your heart you must know it.
Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the
grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same
please, please, please let me know.

Otherwise, can you let me know where the fucking remote is?

Love,

Tucker

Fag of the Week!!!!

I've decided to start a weekly blog of all the fags i know......this weeks Fag is Troy Saylor.....he may not be the biggest fag i know but he is definitely the top 10 and the inspiration of the posting....Congratulations TROY!!!!!! Your a Fag!!!!!

Fuck you Cancer!!!!!!

Let me first start by saying that loved ones dying of cancer is not funny.
Death itself is never actually funny. Its usually sad and hard for someone.
So don’t think I am some morbid fuck who reads the obituaries and creams
his pants. I’m not that guy. I’m the guy that if anything stays sacred and
not being allowed to laugh about then we will all just sit around and keep
grieving. That being said, I shall start my rant. I was recently at a
party and after showing a girl a scar on my arm, I was asked what if was
from. I jokingly said cancer. Immediately an APB went out. If it was
true, then it was fine. However, if it was false, I just committed a major
faux pau. It is quite possible that I mentioned cancer in a way that was
not serious. It was true. I never had cancer. I immediately admitted to
the disease ridden stripper that it was in fact false. Her sister stormed
out of the room in a fit of rage. Oh my God, I made a sarcastic remark
about something she had in the past. That isn’t right. I shouldn’t make
jokes about that, right? Or is it OK? I am writing this to prove that
unless you are literally mocking or joking about the dead, or nearly dead,
then anything is fair game. She told me that I’ve never seen anyone go
through the stages of cancer. Not true. When I was a young man, I saw my
grandma die of the shit. Six years later, I saw an aunt do the same
thing. I guess that blows the whole “not having a frame of reference” out
of the water. Was watching these people die funny to me? Hell no, but my
point is that if we can’t laugh about things that have hurt us in the past
then what can we laugh about? Let’s see, if we can’t laugh about things
that happened to me alone, that crosses out Death, Suicide,
Depression, Sickness, and being fucked by politicians. Well fuck that. I
love to hear about murder, as does everyone. They even have several
channels about it. You think A&E or Court TV would have shit to show if it
wasn’t for shows about actual murder cases. People love to watch this shit. 
Suicide. I’ve never tried to kill myself . Still fair game for
making jokes about. In my opinion, a lot more people should kill
themselves. Only problem is the wrong people are doing it. Why don’t we
have some of these piece of shit pedophiles and rapists turn to suicide
first? Wouldn’t we rather have them eat a bullet than an 8 year old’s cock?
Let’s turn these fuckers on to that shit. Let’s make it acceptable in
society. Not only acceptable, but popular among the shit in this world.
Let’s martyrize one of these fuckers that kills himself instead of robbing a
store and raping the clerk. The white trash would catch on that they’d be
on the news and that’s all they really want. Suicide should be less shunned
and just redirected. We could all laugh about a couple of white trash
motherfuckers doing a little too much speed, couldn’t we? Anyways, the
point is that everything should be available for laughter. Because without
laughter, what do we have? Depression, murder, suicide, sickness, cancer,
and crooked ass politicians. And for all of you that don’t agree with my
theory, I hope you get Mutoba. Yeah, that shit on “Outbreak.” And when you
are bleeding out of your ears, your nose, and every other hole available,
then Cancer will finally be laughable to you. “Haha,” you’ll chuckle.
“What are you waiting for, cancer??” And you know what, if I make it long
enough to get my Cancer, then I vow that my dying words will be, “Haha,
you’ve won this one Cancer, (gasp)…” And the people there who see it will
laugh and say, “Wow, Cancer, really got him tickled, didn’t it?” Cuz it
sure did.

Breaking My Blog Cherry

Good Day,
        First, I would like to say thank you, to all the people who have inspired me to start blogging. I think this could be a really fun way to help vent some of my thoughts that I keep bottled up deep down inside me and for the lucky few that stumble across this it will be a good gauge as to how far you should stay away from me.
        There are a lot of things that I am reluctant to say out loud in fear that I may lose my job, lose a new friend, or get admitted into a psych ward. I hope this will become a way to share some of my thoughts, opinions, and theories without scrutiny.