Nuts and Bolts

Call me nuts folks, but when my high school buddy Denise put the ball in my court and said she thought I could "do something with this story", I just had to accept the challenge.  It takes some big balls to tackle a sensitive subject like testicular cancer, but I figure if some nutcase was actually the brainchild behind Senhor Testiculo, pictured above, to educate Brazilians about testicular cancer, the least I could do was bring the nuts and bolts of the platform to your attention.

Yeppers, it seems some nutty professor in a Brazilian cancer awareness group introduced the world to the Mr. Balls mascot to help propel testicular cancer research into the media spotlight. Personally I'm just glad they didn't go with a nutty buddy as the mascot 'cause I could nevah look at my neighborhood ice cream man in the eye evah again!!!!! At least the dude doesn't look like a hard nut to crack 'cause he and that little whippersnapper seem to be havin' themselves a ball.

Let's face it folks, it takes some serious cojones to get into that suit!!! So the real question becomes whether that pretty young female escort is actually a ballbreaker and puts the poor guy's balls to the wall every night. Because if she is, Senhor Testiculo is gonna teabag her tonight baby!!!

Story: Here

Weekend Wisecrack

A half dozen eggs, but one egg is broken.

The Ultimate Sacrifice

We all make sacrifices in life. In starts when we are toddlers and our parents force us to share our favorite toy with some snotty nose kid so we can make friends. Then in high school you step back and let your BFF go out with the object of your affection while you are stuck goin' to the movies on a Saturday night with the class nerd 'cause ya ain't got nuthin' better to do. At your first real job you let some corporate climber walk all over you and take credit for your brilliant idea 'cause you haven't yet developed a back bone. You get the idea folks. When does it end? When do you decide enough is enough?

Well, the other day, my friend Grayson texted me and said "just realized it is your half birthday. Happy, Happy". DAMN, I forgot all about it. That means I'm 1/2 way through the year I turn fucking fifty. I decided right then and there, to forget about the same old, same old routine I've been doing. Time to take the bull by the horns. No more compromises and no more sacrifices for me!!! It's time this old bitch shake thangs up. I signed up for more Pure Barre classes even though my hamstrings are so sore I can barely walk up and down steps. The one ply sandpaper-like toilet paper that cheapo Uncle Jeffy bought has been deep sixed 'cause my wrinkly ass deserves bettah! I allowed myself an extra grande, decaf, nonfat, peppermint mocha this week 'cause to me they taste like an orgasm in a cup. The glorious sun beat down on my topless body without sunscreen or fear of shame 'cause it's my backyard and I own it (along with a generous mortgage from the bank). Hell, I even stayed up past my normal 8:45pm bedtime and watched a stupid Lifetime movie just to be a rebel. One day I went to the grocery store and indulged:

I really should have felt guilty when that lobster was trying to crawl his way to freedom in the seat beside me, but instead I felt empowered. In 6 short months I'll be hittin' a milestone birthday and I feel fantastic!!! So to you Mr. Crustacean, thank you for makin' the ultimate sacrifice for this old gal.

Dinnah was divine!!!!

Cum and Get it!

Welcome to another edition of Wacky Wednesday folks, where in honor of Father's Day this weekend, I thought I would talk about one father who has made headlines recently for spreadin' his seed all over the Volunteer State. A modern day Johnny Appleseed ya might say.

There's 33 year old Desmond Hatchett from Knoxville, TN, who has cum clean about havin' 30 children with 11 different women. Mr. Hatchett appeared in court this week because he's cum to grips with the fact that he can't afford his child support payments and asked for a much needed break. His oldest young'un is 14 and his littlest whippersnappers are mere toddlers. The cool thang is not many dudes can make the claim to fame that they had 4 kids in the same year. Twice. Ha, take that Duggar family!!! The state already requires him to divide 50% of his minimum wage earnings among the 11 lucky gals, some of whom receive the whopping $1.49 a month.

So if my math is correct, I've cum to the conclusion that Desmond had his first pride and joy at age 19 and then sired 2.14 bambinos every year thereafter, with the exception of two years where he would cum around a little more often so that he was blessed with 4 more mouths to feed in each of those years. That's one kid every three months. Since the state can not mandate him to stop having children, maybe the best Father's Day present his extended family can give him is a hook up with TLC, E! or BET for a reality show to help pay his child support obligations. Perhaps it could be called "Sure Shot Shenanigans".

Story: Here

WHOA BABY!!!!

So how about 33 year old Trish Staine from Duluth, Minn who ran for 2 hours last Sunday in preparation for a 1/2 marathon, had a sore back that evening, thought the pain was from hard core training, went to the ER, and out popped a 6 pound 6 ounce baby girl the next day? She says she had no idea she was preggers because she didn't gain any weight, nor did she feel any fetal movement. Oh yea and the real kicker is her husband had a vasectomy. She and her husband John have 2 children, and she is the stepmother to John's 3 kids from a previous relationship, so she thought she was dun birthin' babies.

Besides the powerful force called denial that is obviously in effect here, I say either John's urologist is in serious trouble or she is!!!!!!

Story: Here

Weekend Wisecrack

I saw this poster at my local Starbucks. For that kinda bank I'm hittin' the shelters, findin' a Taco Hell pooch, dyin' his coat to match those colors and takin' off to Cabo with my reward money baby. OLE!!!

A Cunning Plan

Unless you've been livin' under a rock, you have heard the news blasted all over the media that Michael Douglas admitted his own battle with throat cancer may have been caused by HPV, the virus which comes from that delightful sport called cunnilingus. Never mind the fact that Mr. Douglas was a heavy drinker and smoker, both known causes of throat cancer, or that he publicly said he does not regret either of those habits. Instead, the actor has to go and do some sort of twisted personal PSA about oral sex causing throat cancer. DAMN, way to make it tough for all of us gals who enjoy a little tongue action Michael!!!! As if it isn't scary enough way back in middle school when they show ya pictures of private parts bein' eaten away by STDS, now some high powered Hollyweird type is goin' around sayin' he could have died drinkin' from the furry cup. Is nuthin' sacred anymore????

Personally I think this whole thang is part of some cunning plan to prove that Michael is straight despite the fact that he was PERFECTLY cast as Liberace in the movie "Behind the Candelabra". Really Michael, no one cares about your sexuality and whether you slipped Matt Damon the tongue for pleasure or just for the part. So please, go give lip service to some other worthy cause and just allow the general population to enjoy some good ol' fashioned muff diving without fear of the big C.

Story: Here