Friday, December 26, 2008

More Jokes About Yo Mama


Not all mama's take these jokes well. The one on the left thinks they're funny but still tried to kill us by summoning the devil from her upper digestive tract. The one on the right liked them but we stuck something up her ass right before taking this picture.

Yo mama’s so stupid got stuck on an escalator for 3 hours.

Yo mama’s so fat she went to the gym and fell down the stairmaster.

Yo mama’s so stupid she applied for a job as a speed bump.

Yo mama’s so stupid she got fired from her job as a speed bump.

Yo mama’s so stupid when a bum asked for spare change she gave him the number for AAA.

Yo mama’s so stupid she ate a food stamp sandwich for lunch.

Yo mama’s so stupid she took the goldfish for walkies and drowned the dog.

Yo mama’s so stupid she ran on a treadmill and got lost.

Yo mama’s so fat she went to a restaurant and had the salad bar.

Yo mama’s so stupid, the freezer broke so she set the oven to 32 Fahrenheit.

Yo mama’s so fat she hosted a bachelor party and the cake popped out of her.

Yo mama’s so stupid, in kindergarten she flunked milk and cookies.

Yo mama’s so stupid she had road rage and lost her wedding ring.

Yo mama’s so stupid she put the coconut in the lime and mixed it all around.

Yo mama’s so ugly when she went to get a face lift the doctor needed a spotter.

Yo mama’s hair is so thin that she combed over her pubes.

Yo mama’s so fat the furniture keeps disappearing.

Yo mama’s so fat she uses Feng Shui to dress herself.

Yo mama’s so fat they call her Moby Cunt.

Yo mama’s so ugly she’s called the Hunchfront of Notre DAMN!

Yo mama’s breasts are so saggy they smeared her toenail polish.

Yo mama’s breast are so saggy she had to pull down her drawers to nurse you.

Yo mama’s breast are so saggy she can throw them over her shoulder like a continental soldier.

Yo mama’s so fat she calculated her waist with pi.

Yo mama’s so fat she has satellites.

Yo mama’s so fat she has gravity.

Yo mama’s so fat she sat in the jacuzzi and came out dry.

Yo mama’s so stupid she got stung by a spelling bee.

Yo mama’s so stupid she collects ice cubes.

Yo mama’s so stupid she got fired from a blow job

Yo mama’s so stupid the dog taught her to roll over.

Yo mama’s so lazy she made you go get the paddle and spank yourself

Yo mama’s so stupid she thought Michael Jackson was the first woman to walk on the moon.

Yo mama’s so stupid she voted for George Bush again.

by numbsain

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Last Minute Dear Santa Letters

Dear Santa,
If you really deliver all those toys to all those kids in one sleigh, you must have a really BIG one! Can I see it? And the Christmas balls too? Ooh it makes me tinsel just to think about it. I want it Santa, Now!
—Kandy Kaine

Dear Ms. Kaine,
Why don't you come down to Nordstroms on the 24th and ride upon Santa's lap till Christmas Morning You're one toy I definitely won't play with once and then throw in the closet with all my other beezys.


Dear Santa,
under my tree this year, can I have a package of Burpee® Morning Glory Seeds, an ounce of bloodroot, 12 lettuce cores, A gallon of anhydrous ammonia, a pint of ether, a 5 gallon wash basin, a condenser coil, and a half gallon of acetone.
—Billy

Dear Billy,
nice try. Why don’t I just bring you the 5 grams of angel dust you’re obviously trying to manufacture with those items. You would have failed anyway because you forgot the iodine and the 3 tubes of Vagisil. Your dust would have given you a severe headache for about ten minutes then you’d be dizzy for two or three days.


Dear Santa,

My beeg brother ees een de Meheecan Mafia and my beeg seester is a puta. Dey always breengeen de drawgs and de cerveza and de unsabory elements to de house and dey a bad eenfluence on me and my familia. We wanteen’ to has a nice Feleez Navidad weethout no biolence dees jear but I know, yust like at ebery Chreesmas somebahdy gonna get keeled again.
Can jou do nawtheen to end dees pattern awf biolence and bloodshed?
—Pepe

Dear Peppy,
I cans do nawtheen’ abou’ dat leetle prowlem of jours because I am not Santa Clows. I am Carlos Santana. Jou god de addresses wrong estupido.


Dear Santa,

can you make my daddy stop sodomizing me every night. All I want for Christmas is to have my butt hole left alone.
—Sincerely, fockole
P.S. Could I get a new name also?

Dear Fuckhole,
I have just the item for you. It is a 3 inch diameter tube with one end closed and a wild shrew tied up by his tail inside. All you have to do is shove the closed end up your ass and wait for daddy to make his nightly visit. When he tries to bunghole you he’ll get his johnson ripped to shreds by this small but highly vicious rodent. The nightly reemings should stop after that. All I ask in return is that you let me have a go at that tight little poop chute of yours just once.


Dear Santa,

I’ve heard very bad rumors about one of your reindeer. I can’t remember which one it is but apparently he’s a serial killer! Can you list them just once to see if anything jogs my memory.
—Love, Prudence

Dear Prude,
I’m certain your mistaken but just so you feel better, my reindeer’s names are as follows: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Dahmer, Blitzen.


Dear Santa,

What’s all this I hear about your reindeer being in a violent gang? Is that true.
—Sebastion Cystern

Dear Sebaceous Cyst
Absolutely not! No reindeer working for me would be involved in such things. Here are their time cards...lets see they are: Basher, Masher, Crasher, Git-’em, Vomit, Putrid, Puke-Stupid, and Smith & Wesson!? HEY! THESE AREN’T THE RIGHT REINDEER!


Dear Santa,
I was wondering if you noticed which of the treats I left out for your reindeer they liked the best. Was it the Purina Reindeer Chow kibbles or the Canned wet food, Fungus and Grubworm Reindeer Feast?
—Conrad

Dear Connie,
Whattaya mean reindeer food? That was meant for the reindeer?! *urp*


Santa, dude,

Like what’s up with you these days? I don’t mean to complain or nothin but, dude ya kinda screwed up my order last year. Like big time! I mean some of the items weren’t even close. What happened to Q.C. up there with those short guys? It was like they were on drugs or something, seriously and you’re supposed to check the merchandise out before it goes to the consumer right? So what the fuck happened? Gettin’ a little lax there are we, a little soft in the head maybe? Are you sure your not having a little bout with senility maybe? Dude if you can’t get your shit together this year, don’t bother with our house. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a goddamn Suzy Homemaker Easy-Bake Oven?
—Reggie

Dear Weggie,
Suck my dick.


Dearest Mr. Santa,

I trust this letter finds you in perfect health. I am Triki Kanyvee of Nigeria and a mutual friend with whom business has been done has left me in trust of a large sum for which I have been instructed to dispense with upon arrival of his death in the sum of 5,000,0000, FIVE MILLION dollars American currency. This matter is of the top most secrecy as otherwise the funds will be confriscated by the customs officials of our countries. Please disclose all information about yourself and your financial matters so as to allow the stealing of your identit— I er uh, mean the transfer of said funds immediately. Thank you in earnest kind friend.
Loving tenderly your truly, Triki

Dear Tricky, I hope this infectious bacterial disease bomb letter leaves you in the worst of health. Thank you for delightful love of your mothers mouth and balls

Thursday, December 18, 2008

OLD JOKES
The staff at Goldminds Unwind is off for the holidays so we had the boys in the mail room recount some of their tired old hackneyed jokes because we figured that would be good enough for you guys. These jokes are as old as kerosene so if you've heard it before, stop reading. Unless you like dragging an old dog through the mud which in and of itself can be pretty freakin' funny. “C'mon Rufus, you can walk you lazy old hound! Put your back into it, boy! Show me what yer made of. What? Have you gone and died on me? Why you mangy old mutt! Thump! Thud! Thubump Take that! And that! I'll teach you to up and die you worthless old sack o' potatoes. All that Alpo gone to waste! Man's best friend, FEH!



Rite of Passage


A boy comes home from his first day of junior high school. His mother asks, “what did you do in school today honey?” The boy replies, “I had sex for the first time.” After a thorough reprimanding the mother informs the boy that he’ll have to answer to his father when he gets home. A few hours later the father comes home and the boy overhears his parents talking in the kitchen. His mother was still really mad but his father didn’t say a word and went straight up to the boys room. “Son?” his father said entering the room and closing the door, “Your mother tells me you had sex at school today, is this true?” “Yes father,” the boy says. “Well I just have one thing to say about that”…the father says with a stern look on his face, “Way to go, son! Your a man now, and don’t tell your mother this but I’m damned proud of you boy. I had sex when I was your age too and it looks like your a chip off the old block. The men in our family always start young, it’s in our genes. Don’t worry about your mom; you did good boy and you’ve done your dad proud. In fact, you know that BMX bike you’ve been wanting for so long? I’m gonna buy it for you as a coming of age gift. How would you like that?”
“Wow that’s great dad!…except it’s gonna be a while before I can ride it,” says the boy.
“Why’s that son?” asks the father.
“My butt’s really sore from having sex today.”

Prison Role Call

A diminutive man of meager stature is sentenced to one year in the state penitentiary and has the misfortune of being assigned to share a cell with Bubba Johnson, the biggest meanest brawniest dude in the joint. The little man enters the cell and quietly slinks over to his cot trying not to make eye contact with Bubba.
After a few minutes, Bubba says, “You wanna play house?”
The man says, “Uh…O-o-okay, I g-g-g guess so.”
Bubba politely asks, “Whattaya wanna be, the mommy or the daddy?”
The man thinks about it for a second and carefully chooses.
“Oh w-w-w-well I think I’d p-p-p-prefer to be the d-d-d-daddy, sir. (gulp),”
So Bubba calmly sits up, pulls down his drawers and says,
“Okay, now come over here and suck mommys dick.”

The Pickle Slicer

A man who works in a deli tells his psychiatrist he has a problem.
“I don’t know what it is doc, I have this overwhelming compulsion to put my penis in the pickle slicer.”
“The doctor is shocked, “Are you crazy, why would you want to do a thing like that?”
The man says, “I just can’t stop thinking about it. Every time I see that pickle slicer I become obsessed with the idea of doing it and I can’t think about anything else for the rest of the day.
The doctor thinks about it and says, “Well I can’t imagine why you want to, but if you’re that obsessed with it, I think your just gonna have to do it and get it out of your system.”
“You really think so doc? Wow! This is gonna be great, thanks doc.”
The next day the man comes home from work early.
His wife asks, “Honey are you all right? You're home so early.”
“I got fired,” the man replies.
“Why?” she asks.
“I put my penis in the pickle slicer,” he says.
“Oh my god! Was the pickle slicer turned on?” she asks.
“Yeah,” he says.
“Well what happened to your penis!?” she asks.
“Nothing,” says the man.
She looks at him puzzled and asks, “Well then what happened to the pickle slicer?”
The man says, “She got fired too.”

Resurrected by numbsain…No, we don't have a mail room.

Friday, December 12, 2008

NUMBSAIN'S IRATE
CHRISTMAS CAROLS


A Christmas Wrong
Sung to the tune of “A Christmas Song”
(y'know “chestnuts roasting...” that one.)

Un-em-ploy-ment at an all time high,
health care costs you up the nose,
You’ll be dead in a week if your fired,
and the bank is ready to fore-close, More fi-nan-cial

woes. No tur-key and no mis-tle-toe,
Had to hock the fa-mi-ly.
I won’t buy an-y-one any gifts,
and they damn sure won’t buy one for me.

Be-cause the coun-try’s in the hole,
a-bout a mil-lion bil-lion dol-lars Bushit stole,
Now every mo-thers child is gon-na cry.
I’d love to see those gree-dy bas-tards fry.

And so I’m home-less and with-out a dime,
not like back in nine-ty two,
Those re-pub-li-can pigs screwed us all up the ass,
Bush & Che-ney: Fuck You.

Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!
Sung to the tune of "Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!"

Oh the pres-sure is get-ting strong-er,
Can't hold it too much long-er.
If I can't find any place to go
Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow!

Oh the ques-tion right now is whe-ther...
I can keep my knees to-ge-ther...
Till I find some place to go...
Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow!

Well I guess I drank too much beer...
So just stop by the side of the road.
Or I might have to go right here;
my blad-der's about to ex-plode.

I can feel my-self start to weak-en
I think I might be leak-in'
I need to find a place to go...
Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow!

Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town
sung to the tune of "Santa Claus IS Coming to Town"

You need-n't watch out,
You might as well cry,
I'm not kis-sing all my mo-ney good-bye,
San-ta Claus Ain't Com-ing to Town.

The corp'-rate rip-offs...
Ain't get-tin' a dime.
Ain't spend-ing all my mo-ney this time,
San-ta Claus Ain't Com-ing to Town.

It's not about re-li-gion, a ho-ly day, in-deed,
They use our kids to guilt trip us and to sa-tis-fy their greed.

This ho-li-day crap...
Is all a big scam.
And frank-ly my dear, I don't give a damn.
San-ta Claus Ain't Com-ing to Town.

Written by numbsain...Ho, ho, ho, gitcha bitch asses all up in heah youz hos!

Saturday, December 6, 2008

UNHOLIDAY STALKING STUFFERS
(By request of Donk & Sheila B Cumming)



Rag-o-meter®
What’s the worst thing about women? Not knowing. Not knowing if you should make your move, or not make a false move, or pack up and move. Women are so unpredictable it’s like sleeping in a mine field full of crazy exploding bitches. But now you can take the mystery out of the missus with Rag-o-meter®! Place the Rag-o-meter® on her nape (or other area of exposed skin) and the readout shows you the full gamut of her emotions from, “Okay, but hurry up about it,” to “Get away from me before I mace you and call the police.” A second readout tells you where she is in her menstrual cycle, saving you those dangerous late night missions under the covers to check the viscosity of her vaginal mucous. “Oh no! She’s waking up! It’s got teeth! AAaargh!” You should have equipped her with the Rag-o-meter!® [add to cart]

Hottie or Rottie® Birth Control/Sexual Enhancer Hologram
This little marvel will transform even the skankiest washed up old hag into the girl of your dreams. Or it can turn the overzealous Mr. Happy Dong into a Wilting Willy in seconds. This amazing technology actually superimposes the female of your choice directly on top of the female your stuck with by using an animated holographic facade that tracks the gals movements so perfectly you’ll swear your fifty year old battle ax is Pamela Anderson! Or ladies can use it to transform their irresistible, youthful comeliness into wrinkled up, grandma-looking ugliness. Sure to make Mr. Gung Ho wither and shrivel like you’re a skank ho! No more unwanted premature ejaculations and no more boinking the same old nasty beeyotch, all in one amazing device. Hottie or Rottie®! Just buy the damn thing!

Boinking Buddy® Vaginal insert
The latest sexual enhancer from Sweden, the people who brought you the Saab, increases pleasure for both him and her by effectively extended him and tightening her. The form fitting outer surface contacts all the rights spots inside and outside the woman while the snug fitting inner surface makes even the flabbiest mayonnaise jar feel like her 14 year old daughter (or so we've heard). Make your 50th anniversary night feel like your honeymoon night. You never know ladies, you just might give him a heart attack and get his pension all to yourself! Turn back the clock, with Boinking Buddy®
[add to cart]

Tooth Shrew®
Have you ever had a wild shrew loose in your mouth? Well now you can. Multiple bristles and brush shapes, styles and thicknesses, spinning, vibrating, clawing and scratching (just like a wild shrew) all built into one frantically powerful device that you cover with toothpaste on all sides and pop into your mouth. Then flip the remote switch and the Tooth Shrew goes bezerk! Keep it inside your mouth as long as you can, and when you can’t hold it in any longer, the Tooth Shrew flies out (up to 10 feet). And guess what? Your teeth have never been cleaner! Sparkling, shining, dazzling teeth, a clean you can really feel! Just fish the tooth shrew out from behind the toilet, rinse and he’s ready to go next time. And 9 out of 10 dentist surveyed recommend teeth for their patients who chew. [add to cart]

Bear-B-Gone!®

You’re out in the wilderness, alone, it’s dark, you’re scared, you’ve wet yourself a little, The aroma of fresh urine permeates the air in a ratio of 1 part per million. That’s all it takes for a grizzly bear to track your scent and before you know it you’re standing face to face with a big, mean, drooling, snarling BEAR! (God he’s ugly!) What do you do? Unpack your rifle? No time! Run like hell? Unless your an Olympic athlete on steroids and PCP, you don’t stand a chance against a quadruped. In fact you’d have to be Superman himself to escape. But there is one thing you can do. Pull out your quick release can of an amazing new product called Bear-B-Gone! A combination genetically altered pepper spray, ultra concentrated mace, a powerfully corrosive molecular acid, a volatile and deadly flesh eating organism found on one of Jupiters moons, and military surplus grade napalm all at your fingertips, ready to be released in a high pressure aerosol propellant. Push the button and watch the fierce, powerful grizzly’s fur and flesh disintegrate before your very eyes! Bears literally melt and spontaneously combust into a pile of ashes in 3.7 agonizing seconds. Watch his big, scary, mean, growling face turn to a whimpering, simpering, scared for his life, little, crying, whiney-pants, sissy, reduced to groveling and begging for mercy at your feet the millisecond Bear-B-Gone comes in contact with his skin. But you’ll just laugh and stomp his head into the ground because...

“OW! OWW!!! YEEAAAARGH-GH-GH-G-G-grgule gurgle gurgle pffzzt!”

No, you don’t want to stomp his head because you’ll get a tiny speck of Bear-B-Gone on your shoe and in seconds you’ll be reduced to a blubbering, screaming little… well you get the idea. Bear-B-Gone!® It doesn’t FUCK around! [add to cart]

By numbsain…wherever great gifts are being shop lifted!

Friday, December 5, 2008

Hitting Dogs


These two dogs came from the same litter.

There's nothing worse
than the feeling of running over a dog. The dull 'flubump' you hear, you can almost feel its furry warmth right through the the brake pedal, or the gas pedal, or your boot if you had to pull over and finish him off. Or your kids see it happen and you try to tell them he only bumped his head on the bottom of the car and he's just fine but they look out the back window and see he was chopped in half by the tire. So you tell them that he was already dying and you put him out of his misery. But the kids explain that it was the neighbors brand new puppy.

It's really bad when you run over your own puppy. But the only thing worse than running over a puppy and watching it die is watching it limp around for 18 years—and it still loves you—ugh, I hate that. Dragging itself along on two legs trying to bring you your slippers.
“Stumpy! Forget about the damn slippers already! No, don’t wag your tail, you’ll fall ove-…Aw, Stump-e-ers.”

I had a blind dog for a while. he wore dark glasses and I was his seeing eye man. I got to go into kennels and dog washes that normally I would never be allowed to enter. As long as I was well behaved and didn't bite anyone. He had a nasty temperament because he was bred to be a guard dog so to do his job he just had to flail wildly and bite in every direction. We called him Ray Snarles because whenever we were threatened and he had to figure out who to bite, he never got right one, baby.

We got tired of getting bit all the time so we took him to the park and played fetch with him. Then we jumped in the car and drove away. But he somehow found his way back! So we cut off all his legs. He makes a good throw pillow for the couch when the in-laws come over. Finally he died when Uncle Jerry sat on him, but you should have seen Uncle Jerry's ass! Aunt Janey never chewed him one that big!

Soon we got a new dog. He's a dingo and he's a little temperamental; kinda snaps at people. But, when a few babies were missing around the neighborhood, the neighbors suspected Bingo. We didn't want to put him to sleep, that seems wrong. So we were thinking of running him over instead. Then some Korean friends convinced us not to waste a perfectly good animal. They gave us some great recipes and told us just how to prepare him. Well, the recipes worked great. Changing his diet made him a lot calmer and we prepared him by visiting his new home a couple times to get him used to it. The Yims say he's a perfect pet and... Wait, you weren't thinking...just because they're Korean you thought they were going to... Oh, that's disgusting. If Asians eat dogs then why don't Americans eat dragons?

A bit of trivia here. I learned why dogs on a leash always pee a little bit on every tree they see along the walk instead of all at once like we do. It's because we don't stop walking! While we're on the subject of dogs, here's the latest list, from our corporate offices in Scottsdale Arizona, of

Top Ten Worst Dog Names


10. Lemonade Vendor
9. Kennyl
8. O'Drool
7. Humpaleg
6. Style
5. John Lapper
4. Edgar Alpo
3. Terry R.
2. Quadrupet
1. Sit Vicious

Check out our Top XX worst dog name lists scattered around the blog, (which rhymes with dog).
This post was written by numbsain…the name says it all!

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Numbsain's Gift Ideas

Duller Image, Brooksnuts, Hammacker & Schlemmer (that's fine the way it is) move over! Numbstones LTD. brings you a new line of ingenious high tech, gadgets, goodies and gags that are sure to bring wetness and cheer around the tree. And with the economy down the shitter, thanks to our lovely government of insane murdering criminals who we are letting walk away with the whole pot, Christmas shopping is especially joyous this year. I wonder what gifts the bushits and the cheneys are buying for themselves this year. I'd like to give them a very special gift of my own creation and watch them eat it.

Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year… *urp*KaBARFFF!

Ouch Gum
Ow! Eek! Ooch! Ugh! That’s what you hear every time you chew a stick of Ouch Gum!
Built into every stick is a tiny pressure sensitive sound generator that uses your mouth cavity as a speaker. Ouch! The gum that feels pain the way we do!


Toilet-in-a-Briefcase
You’ve Just had two cups of coffee and a bran muffin and now you’re standing on a crowded bus with 20 minutes til you get to work. Suddenly Nature calls and it’s a BIG one! What do you do? Just flip open Toilet-in-a-Briefcase and unfold a real working toilet! Drop trou and do your business anytime, anywhere Then when you’re all done, fold it back up and, oh look! It’s your stop! Time sure flies when you’re taking a shit.

The Neutrinonizer
Increase your sense of being with this little life saver. Breathing depletes the air of essential subatomic particles and a well lived in room can become a stale, lifeless place in no time. Replenish the air with refreshing neutrinos! The smallest of all theoretical subatomic particles, neutrinos are believed to constitute one third of the universe. You can’t see them but you’ll sure rest easier knowing that you and your family are getting plenty of them…theoretically!

OdorUp! Olfactory Alarm Clock
Need to get up early but your significant other likes to sleep in? A noisy alarm clock really won’t do now will it? Just place OdorUp over the bridge of your nose and sleep easy. Come morning OdorUp releases a fetid acrid stench that will bring tears to your eyes and wakes you up in a jiffy. While your partner never hears a thing.
OdorUp…Wake up and smell the catbox!



Nautical 8-Ball

For the seafaring type who can’t remember how to sail, just ask the Nautical 8-Ball and it will say: “Hard a-port” “Luff out the Mizzen” “Broad Reach” “Beat to Windward” Over 300 authentic nautical sailing terms will keep you ship-shape when you “weigh anchor” so you never find yourself “In irons” or three sheets to the wind!”


In-Your-Face Gag Mace
Mom had to work late so dad said he’d pick her up. He shows up a half hour late and mom is standing outside—at night. Wait dad, don’t drive up on her just yet, there’s a rapist approaching her. Turn off the headlights and watch the zany whacky antics when mom goes to mace the the attacker but instead SHE gets a face full of painful debilitating MACE. In-Your-Face Gag Mace has the nozzle reversed for lots of laughs!

In-Your-Snatch Gag Condoms
The date is getting hot and heavy, she’s ready but asks if you have protection. You discreetly slip on an In-Your-Snatch Gag Condom and let the fun begin. It’s got a special reservoir tip filled with an amazing realistic looking jizz-like polymer that E-X-P-A-N-D-S to 10x original volume! Two minutes later, Oops! She thinks your blowing your wad insider her and imagine the look on her face when up to two gallons of expanding jizz foam comes gushing out of her. Best of all it hardens to solid in 30 seconds. She’ll never get it all out! The perfect way to end a first and only date!

Gillette Dodeco Shaving System
First there were twin blades, then triple blades, then they introduced the Quatro, four blade razor, And then Five! Where do you go from there? introducing the Gillette Dodeco Shaving System! 12 blades in one handle! Bet you’re thinking, “the smoothest shave ever!” Well think again. The blades are parallel with the handle! One swipe and Dad’s jugular is gushing! Loads of Laughs!

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Twelve Dates of Christmas



On the first date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the se-cond date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
two smel-ly fin-gers,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the third date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
three pain-ful hick-eys,
two smel-ly fin-gers,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the fourth date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
fore-head ab-ras-ions,
three pain-ful hick-eys,
two smel-ly fin-gers,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the fifth date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
pain… when I pee…
rug-burns on my head,
three hick-eys,
smel-ly fin-ger goo
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the sixth date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
six pe-nile les-ions,
pain… when I pee…
rug-burns on my head,
three hick-eys,
smel-ly fin-ger goo
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the seventh date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
test-ic-ul-ar tor-sion,
six pe-nile les-ions,
pain… when I pee…
rug-burns on my head,
three hic-keys,
fin-gers kind of stink,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the eighth date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
gen-it-al her-pes,
test-ic-ul-ar tor-sion,
six pe-nile les-ions,
pain… when I pee…
rug-burns on my head,
three hic-keys,
fin-gers kind of stink,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the ninth date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
gon-ho-or-rea,
gen-it-al her-pes,
test-ic-ul-ar tor-sion,
six pe-nile les-ions,
pain… when I pee…
rug-burns on my head,
three hic-keys,
fin-gers kind of stink,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the tenth date of Christmas my true love gave to me:
cum-stained pa-ja-mas
gon-ho-or-rea,
gen-it-al her-pes,
test-ic-ul-ar tor-sion,
six pe-nile les-ions,
pain… when I pee…
rug-burns on my head,
three hic-keys,
fin-gers kind of stink,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the eleventh date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
ter-ti-ary syph’lis,
cum-stained pa-jam-as
gon-ho-or-rea,
gen-it-al her-pes,
test-ic-ul-ar tor-sion,
six pe-nile les-ions,
pain… when I pee…
rug-burns on my head,
three hic-keys,
fin-gers kind of stink,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.

On the twelfth date of Christ-mas my true love gave to me:
twelve thou-sand crab-lice,
ter-ti-ary syph’lis,
cum-stained pajamas
gon-ho-or-rea,
gen-it-al her-pes,
test-ic-ul-ar tor-sion,
six pe-nile les-ions,
pain… when I pee…
rug-burns on my head,
three hic-keys,
fin-gers kind of stink,
and a flesh eat-ing eh-es tee dee.


by numbsain…Oh no! my sain is numb

Monday, November 17, 2008

The Fundamental Laws that Govern Yo Ass


The 1st Law of Futility
You can’t have a catch 22 until you have a catch 21. But then you’re one short of a catch 22.

The Law of Stupid Laws
If Murphy’s Law can go wrong, it won’t. So you’re still stuck with Murphy’s stupid law.

The 1st Law of Indigestion
What goes up, someone had to throw up.

The Law of Visa
for every action there is an equal and opposite charge on your account.

The 2nd Law of Indigestion

What goes around gives you diarrhea.

The Law of Resentment
No good deed goes un-guilt-tripped.

The Law of Kleptomania
Objects in motion tend to stay in motion, objects at rest tend to be stolen.

The 2nd Law of Futility
When an irrepressible force meets an irresistible object, somebody ends up crying.

The 3rd Law of Desert Physics
The relationship between an object's mass (m), its acceleration (a), and the applied force (F) is only legal in the state of Nevada.

The 2nd Law of Thermo-Finance
Energy can be changed from one form to another, but it will take up to 3 to 5 business days.

The Law of Inbreeding
Nothing can be the cause of its own existence, except in Tenessee where a man can be his own father.

The Law of Junk Food
E=McNuggets.

The Law of Shopping
You can’t get something for nothing, but at Ross’s weekend blowout sale, you can get name brands for next to nothing, this weekend only…at Ross!

The Law of Stupidity
50% of the people in the world are below average in intelligence.

The Law of Heresay
I think therefor I am not dead.

The Law of Masculinity (or lack thereof)
Size doesn’t matter, unless you’re talking about a guy with a really small penis because that poor bastard will never satisfy a women.

by Prof. Numbsain…LsD, Xtc, pCp, NO2, THc

Friday, November 14, 2008

Billy: Little Boy with a Big Problem



Once upon a time in a far away land there lived a little boy of 10 years old who had a GREAT BIG penis. His name was Billy and all the other boys and girls used to laugh at him for his penis was much too large.

All the other children had average sized penises and they flaunted them proudly, whipping them out at urinals or in the woods behind the school yard where they would tie up Cynthia Titesnatch after class and hone their boinking skills on her. But they wouldn’t let poor Billy join in any penis games.

The boys wouldn’t let him sword fight with them because his penis was too slow.

“En Garde Sir Billy! I challenge thee to a duel. Brandish thy weapon or be smitten with my smegma!” said Sir Bobby as he wielded his three inch cutlass.

“Ng-g-g!” Gimme a minute here, I’ve almost got it up.” said Sir Billy struggling to get his cumbersome seventeen inch ex-caliber so much as an inch off the ground.

“Ha ha ha! Look at Billy and his elephant penis!” they all laughed, “He can’t even lift it.”
Poor Billy would have to fold his penis in half, then in quarters, then roll it up and stuff it back into his trousers and skulk away shamed and humiliated.

The girls wouldn’t let him play hide the gherkin because his penis was much too conspicuous. One day a new girl came to the school and she didn’t notice that Billy's pants were pleated in front and yet still he always bumped into the lunch trays in the cafeteria.

“Hi Billy,” said the comely new girl, Penny, “Wanna play kissin’ in the closet with me?” she said with her full luscious red lips and her dreamy azure eyes blinking seductively.

“(Gulp) S-s-sure P-P-P-Penny!” said Billy nervously but excited. Why? Because Penny was a damn fine piece of ass and there wasn’t a boy in the school who wouldn’t give his left testicle for a minute and a half in the closet with Penny.

“C’mon then, let’s get our tongues into each others throats right away, shall we?

Billy was sprung big time. The two of them entered the closet when no one was looking. No sooner had the door closed, Penny was buck naked and licking his epiglottis!

“ Billy, why are you shoving me away with your leg. Don’t you like incredibly gorgeous, highly aggressive, oversexed ten year old girls?” Penny asked pouting seductively.

“I wasn’t Penny, I swear!” said Billy.

“Well if this isn’t your leg than it must be your...Ahahahahahah! Is that behemoth your penis!? Hahahaha tee-hee! Oh Billy, you silly little boy. Now what did you expect to do with that thing after we kissed and I got all aroused and demanded to be boinked? I couldn’t even fit that in my make-up case much less my tight pink vagina. Give me a cigarette and run along, jumbo boy! Hahahaha!” said Penny dismissively.

Billy dutifully gave her his last Marlboro Light and skulked away sadly, dragging his hippopotomic penis behind him.

“Ha ha ha! Billy, Billy, seventeen inch willy!” the children all sang tauntingly.

Just when it seemed like things couldn’t get any worse for Billy, they did.

“Billy!” said the teacher angrily, “Come to the blackboard this minute!”

“Yes, Mrs. Crotch-Chasm,” said Billy as he skulked to the head of the class and stood in front of the voluptuously buxom teacher at the blackboard.

“Billy,” said Mrs. Crotch-Chasm, “How big is your penis, young man?” She asked sternly.

“Seventeen inches.” said Billy, hanging his head low in shame.

The children all started laughing hysterically at Billy’s unfortunate deformity, completely insensitive to that fact that it was not his fault. Children can be so cruel.

“SILENCE!” shouted Mrs. Crotch-Chasm sternly, “Billy you will stay after class and write on the blackboard 1000 times: ‘I will not have a seventeen inch penis.’”

“What?!” said Billy indignantly, “Look, I didn’t ask to have a seventeen inch penis! and furthermore...”
Billy was just getting his tirade going when Mrs. Crotch-Chasm leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

“Oh.” said Billy, “A thousand times you say? Sure, no problem.”

After the school bell rang and all the other children had gone home, Billy was just about done with his first of a thousand times when Mrs. Crotch-Chasm said, “Turn around, Billy”

Billy turned around and there was Mrs. Crotch-Chasm in a leather corset, fishnet stockings, and 9 inch spiked heels! She looked slammin’!


“Day-um!” said billy unzipping his pants with a mac daddy smirk on his face.

“Well, we don’t need to tell you what happens next. Let’s just suffice it to say: They lived happily ever after!

by numbsain

Note: We do not promote child pornography, 10 year olds having sex with adult teachers, nor anything that is harmful to children or perverse or weird or anything like that. It's just a coincidence that those things are what this post is about. None of these characters have any similarity to anyone in real life and don't try this at home.

For Sale: boy with 17 inch penis, to a good home.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

New Elements Discovered!

Periodically, scientists will discover a new element never before known and they will add it to the periodic table. Each new geological finding expands the table and all new books have to be re-printed. The periodic table started out relatively small and simple: Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen, Salt, Pepper, Sweet n’ Low—the usual condiments. Then along came Helium, Cobalt, Tabasco, A1 Sauce, Ketchup, Gold, Silver, Equal, and the table started filling up. Now recently we’ve added Uranium, Plutonium, KC Masterpiece BBQ Sauce, Accent, The crap that Emirel guy sells, Copper, Zinc, Braggs, CoffeeMate, and even Soy Sauce.

Well, the shit has really hit the fan now as 30 new elements have been identified. All as a result of one lousy meteor which landed last week—oh sorry now it’s a meteorite because it landed. If you ask me we should have blasted the damned thing back out into space and then it would be a meteoroid again.

Here are the new ones we've got to squeeze in there somewhere.


Scientists are working furiously around the clock trying to find commercial and industrial uses for these elements but so far only two have been found to be useful. Chickendelite seems to have industrial use as a coagulant for keeping milk from separating, and Inferium makes a great doorstop because of its very dense atomic weight. Of course, so would a lot of the chicks I've dated recently.

By Prof. Numbsain PhD National Scientific Institute for the Criminally Insane, Putzpuller Prize winning, Author and worlds foremost authority on Cunning Linguistics

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

This Is Exactly Why I Don't Call My Mother


Everytime she calls, this happens:

Hello, is it a bad time?
I'm sorry.
I just thought maybe...
I am your mother.
NO, no no really, I'll try back later I can see you're busy.
No, I insist. I'm fine.
Sure.
Really.
Yeah?
Ya sure?
I'm not interrupting anything?
No?
All right then, if yer sure.
Then I can chat for a minute but I don't want to overstay, my…y'know.
Cause I'm not one to waste anyone's time.
No.
Never.
So tell me about you.
Don't feel like talking eh?
It's okay.
I understand.
But y'know I really can be a good listener.
Okay it's obvious you don't feel comfortable discussing it with me.
I know trust is earned, not inherited.
I get it.
Yer right, yer absolutely right.
I see how you could feel like that.
It's true, to the untrained eye it could look like that.
I thought you of all people would be able to see past all that.
I am your mother after all.
You'd think that would be worth something.
Some sons actually call their mothers.
Gwen's son calls her every week.
but I'm not judging.
Oh heavens no, I would never.
No, you're acting out of feelings that are important for you to feel.
Listen I would have to.
If we were allowed to.
My father wouldn't let us have feelings.
But you were given that.
And that's a great gift in this life.
That you have that luxury is really…well just cherish it.
‘Cause it's a good thing, trust me.
Take it from someone who was, maybe…e-e-eh not so fortunate, let's say.
Can we say that?
Can we agree on that one basic truth?
Because y'know, the tru—OH MY GOD! OH CRAP! DAMN DAMN DAMN!!! THE CAT'S ON FIRE!!! GET HIM! HE'S RUNNING OUT THE DOOR, CATCH HIM! THROW WATER ON HIM! DO SOMETHING!!! OH! CRAP, HELL, THE DRAPES! HE SET THE DRAPES ON FIRE!! DUMP IT ON HIM! POUR THE DAMN WATER ON THE CAT! HE'S BURNING UP!!! YOU MISSED! YOU IDIOT HE'S STILL ON FIRE, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!? OH YOU MISSED AGAIN!!?? ARE YOU STUPID? CHRIST ALMIGHTY! LOOK AT THAT! NO! NO no no, it's too late.
Don't bother, no.
Look at that.
Poor thing, burnt to a crisp.
My god what a shame.
A perfectly good cat, poof up in smoke.
What did we pay for that cat?
Oh fer gods sake.
Y'know your sister loved that cat.
Now look at him.
No don't touch him! Jeezus.
No that's just a reflex.
They do that.
His lungs are just expelling gas.
It's not really meowing.
No No of course not that would be horrible!
No It's just gas.
Yes, that was more gas…
Oh Goddamn it!
Okay! Hit him with the flower pot!
No hard, stupid.
On the head!
Just DO IT HARDER!
AGAIN!
UNTIL HE STOPS MEOWING!!!
HIT IT!!!
GIMME THE DAMN THING!
LIKE THIS!!!!
SMASH ITS HEAD!
THERE!
THROW IT OUT THE WINDOW!
DON'T SWING IT AROUND LIKE THAT!
OH NO!
NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO GRANDMA'S BEAUTIFUL SLIP COVERS.
They're ruined.
No, 409 won't get that out!
Ferget about it.
You've done enough.
You've really ruined my whole afternoon.
Christ all mighty, gutten himmel…Wha?
Oh, I'm sorry honey, are you still there.
I'm sorry, we just had a little accident with the… the vacuum cleaner.
Yeah, sure no he's fine, yeah everybody's fine.
Listen I caught you at a bad time.
I'll go.
Next time is better.
Sure.
Okay.
Uh-huh.
Of course.
He's fine.
I will.
You too.
Okay.
Next time.
We will.
You too.
Bye bye.
G'night.
I love you too.
Mm-hmm Bye, Love you.
Bye bye.
Goodnight.

by numbsain...I don't have issues, I have subscriptions.

Monday, October 27, 2008

WOW! WHAT A NIGHT!


Ass in picture is not actual size. To show actual size would require a forklift.

I had just dropped my girlfriend off at the Bawdy Shoppe, a strip club where she currently holds a position as CEF (Customer Erections Facilitator) and I decided to go out for a little something different tonight. I hightailed it over to the local girly bar, “Deja Phew” (which I believe is french for “been there, smelled that”). Upon entering the establishment and taking a good look at the decor, ambiénce, and feng shui of the layout, my first thought was “Pussy! Yummy nums!” I watched a girl writhe around on stage contorting her naked body to allow maximum viewing of every cran and nookie. I found myself strangely intrigued by the openings into her body even though I'm certain I would not find the same fascination with the various organs, glands and digestive tubing that I would find inside. So why all the fuss about the entrances to places you have no desire to enter? But all that was about to change.

Then “she” walked out onto the stage. Her name was Nacy or Maty or something like that. My jaw dropped to the floor and suddenly there was nothing to hold my tongue in my mouth. My tongue unraveled onto the floor and lay there like a wet fish. Drool was gushing from my gaping maw and soon my teeth began falling out followed by my palette which was all that held my brain in my head. Thus, it too hit the floor with a wet splat.

I think she noticed me and was charmed by my inability to conceal the fact that I fancied her. I sat there desperately trying to scoop up all my head cheese and stuff it back into my skull in roughly the right places when she sauntered over to my side of the stage. Well it wasn't really my side but I was over there first so I guarded it like a kitten guards its nipple. Just to be safe I decided to put a down payment on it and scattered some denominations around. She thought they were for her, not realizing that I would never insult a woman of such class, breeding and sophistication as she buy insinuating that she could be bought for any price.

To show me her appreciation she proceeded to wrap her long, sexy, tan, curvacious scarf around my eager, drooling, googly-eyed chair. Then she straddled my face with her gorgeous, perky, bouncing, bodaciously abundant 38dd lips! I could almost smell her upper digestive tract as she panted heavily into both ears at once and swirled her long, dangling, wet, snake-like tongue around in my eagerly flared nostrils. My sinuses have never been clearer and I was feeling like a madman all around trying to find her toes.

Suddenly she scooted up the long slender slippery slimy brass pole like a squirrel trying to escape a little kid with a BB gun, and in one swell fwoop, careened right back down full speed, plunging her dainty, delicate little tootsie toes into my open mouth and continued down my esophagus till they reached the bottom where they danced momentarily atop my lunch which was eagerly awaiting to be fully digested by the powerfully corrosive hydrochloric acid in my stomach. My superhuman, convulsively forceful gag reflex caused my esophagus to churn masterfully in reverse parastalsis causing me to violently regurgitate her feet and part of her tibia out onto the eagerly awaiting stage.

Then the light of Heaven shone down upon me and a chorus of cherubim, who have never been sodomized by a single Catholic priest, sang a chord of such beauty that it brought a tear to every eye in the house as my fertility Goddess of the sordid stage made a 180 degree turn on her 14 inch spiked heel and exposed, in all its resplendent abundance, her gloriously expansive, miraculously ample, masterfully sculpted, furtively jiggling, bulbous cloven tushy!

There wasn't a dry seat in the house! I had to have her right then and there! I ripped off my clothes in one gulp and shot my body like a cannon up onto the stage and with all 4 inches of my massive, erect, tumescent projectile commenced to give my queen the boinking of her life and didn't stop for...oh jeez, it must have been a good 3 and a half seconds (my worlds record to date) at which point I ruptured into a rhapsodic fireworks display of orgasm, volcanically spewing my molten lava and ash high into the eagerly waiting atmosphere, sending tidal wave-like paroxisms of rapture coursing mightily throughout every fiber of her voluptuously grateful being, probably. And then in all of an instant we went helplessly limp and collapsed in mid air, plummeting to Earth and landing in a spent, euphoric, steamy, mucilaginous pile with a dull thud.

The crowd went insane and we were both dragged off the stage by the biggest, burliest, manliest, muscle-boundliest bouncer the world has ever been given the bums rush by. She was rushed to the hospital, and I was booted headlong like a winning field goal that went slightly too far to the left into the back alley where my flesh was consumed by rats the size of pitbulls and my bones were crushed to a fine bonemeal by hyperactive pitbulls who have been injected with methamphetamines!

Wow what a night!

by numbsain...he likes to have his kicks in the groin.

Friday, October 17, 2008

LETTERS TO SANTA
by numbsanta

Dear Santa Claus,
I’m a 12 year old kid. All my friends have started going through puberty already and are developing normally, y’know broader shoulders, deeper voices, and signs of facial hair. Most noticeable is their penises. They’re huge! I have none of these things. My shoulders are looking even smaller because I seem to be getting more baby fat in the upper body, My voice is the same, no facial hair and my penis is still just a little nubbin. What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I develop like the other kids? All I want for Christmas is a big long schlong.

Jennifer

Dear Jennifer,
I have some bad news for you. It seems you have a congenital birth defect. You are what doctors refer to as a female. You will never develop a big long schlong. However I can bring you one. You just can’t keep it because it’s attached to a hairy patch just below my navel.



Dear Santa Claus,
The following is a partial list of what I’m expecting under the tree on Christmas morning. Don’t let me down Santa, my father owns Exxon, He’s one of the richest most powerful men in the world so if I don’t get what I want…ha ha ha I don’t think I need to say anything more. Here’s the list:
A Hummer
A Yacht (the biggest)
A Leer Jet
A Lamberghini (yellow)
I need all that stuff by no later than the 25th ‘cause I got a date with this totally hot babe and I think it’ll be really impressive when she shows up at my house and sees all that stuff in the driveway. Well don’t just stand there you old geezer, get to work! and don’t bother reading little Billy’s letter, this is more important! Move!

Corbritt Bonassus III

Dear Master Bone Asses,
I’m very sorry but due to the cost of fuel this year Santa Claus can no longer provide his usual service and Christmas is declaring bankruptcy. And just a thought, if you want to impress a girl you might wanna try buying something for her, and I hope it’s expensive because you won’t win her over with your charming personality.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

Dear Santa,
I want a Realistic War Game® where I can be right in the middle of the action so I can feel like I’m really killing terrorists and being a War Hero® just like my big brother who’s over there fighting the war right now. We haven’t heard from him for a couple of months but Dad say’s that’s cause he’s involved in a Top Secret Mission®.

Sincerely, Johnny®

Dear Johnny,
Santa’s got a treat for you! You’re going to have the most realistic war game adventure ever! I’ve arranged to have you spend two years in Realistic Action War Camp®! You’ll be flown to Iraq and be given a Realistic Looking Weapon®! You can get to see your brother in a Real Body Bag® and watch other kids just like you actually Getting Killed!® You’ll come back from camp changed—a Real War Hero®—with your Legs Blown Off®! You’ll have Real Anger Issues® and Post Traumatic Stress®! You’ll get to stay in a Real Veterans Hospital® and get all the benefits Mr. Bush wants you to have! Merry Christmas Johnny! Glad I could make all your dreams come true!

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

Dear Santa,
If you are reading this then you must really exist, in which case you can disregard this letter whose purpose is to determine if you really exist or not. If you do not really exist please tell me so by returning the enclosed SASE to me.

Guirro

Dear Weirdo,
If you are in receipt of this it is because I don’t exist in which case you could not be in receipt of this unless you don’t exist either and we are communicating on a non-existence level which is entirely possible since non-existence does not exist therefore all the rules go out the window and then you might as well believe in Santa Claus.
Does that answer your question you little smart ass?

And BTW leave the tooth fairy out of this because I’ve got the quarters to prove he’s real

««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««

Yo Yo Yo Santa, Wussup foo’ I’m hookin’ you up wit dis Chrizzismas Lizzist so y’all know what kinda blingage to put awl up under my tree, Y’dig? So dis is da shizzizzny:

A big ol’ crack rock
A C-note werf a blow
Some buds o’ some killah kush
A pair a bad-ass kicks
A Digital Electron Scan Micrometer

Peace out, Bone Slamma

Dear Mr. Slamma,
I can hook you up with all the items you requested. But there’s one that seems a little inconsistent with the rest of your list. Why in the world do you want a pair of kicks?

˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚

Dearest Santa,
I am a transient indigent from an underclass family in an impoverished third world nation on the western hemisphere. Due to my father’s employer’s failure to adequately compensate him in the form of monetary remuneration for his interminable toiling at a corporate manufacturing facility, my paternal progenitor has been, as of yet, unable to provide his malnourished, poverty-stricken family with a single Christmas accouterment. It would mean the world to us if you could find it in your heart to bestow upon us but a single token of your sympathy for our predicament in the form of a Christmas gift, preferably wrapped in cheery Christmas-theme paper and tied with a ribbon and a bow.
This gesture on your part might revivify our faith in humanity and give us a reason to live yet another miserable day of this downtrodden existence we currently enjoy.

Thank you, in advance, for your kind and thoughtful consideration of my request. May the best of all things come to you and your loved ones during this season and from now until eternity.

Sincerely, Augustus Champhorwolfe Carrerra III

Dear Gus,
What the hell are you talking about dude? Not all of us can afford the education it would take to read, much less write, a pompous letter like that. Can you put that in laymen’s terms you pedantic freak?

by numbsanta

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Top 10 Strangest Things Ever Eaten
Special thanks to Kelly Sonora for the idea for this post.
Here's a link to her “real” top 25 strangest things ever eaten list:

(http://www.x-raytechnicianschools.org/the-25-weirdest-things-eaten-by-a-human/).

10. A Rainbow—Gullspit Greenschtuff of Donkeylove NC, consumed a 30 mile wide rainbow after seeing a Skittles® Advertisement. “It wasn't as good as it looked on TV but my friends all think I'm an idiot!” said Gullspit.

9. A Denny's Menu—Claude McScratchinsniff of Left Titsburg, PA, was always disappointed to find the meal didn't look as good on the plate as it did in the pictures. An Irate waitress advised him to, “eat the pictures and go fuck yourself!” McScratchinsniff reportedly complied with the both requests, the latter of which landed him a part in a XXX video entitled “Go Fuck Yourself.”

8. A McDonalds Hamburger—Bunce Flapcrack, a retard of 33 sent us this one from Retard Falls, MO.
We included it for its strangeness in the context of this list. Plus, how do you tell a retard he's clueless?
(Note: The term “retard” does not refer to the mentally handicapped, it refers to people who are retarded by choice and therefore get no special treatment. Duh!)

7. A Tuna fish Vagina—Hollis Clubber, of Idano, Alaska wanted to try human flesh but didn't want to be labeled a cannibal for reasons of his political affiliations with a vice presidential candidate whose name has been withheld. “My employer said, ‘Hollis, I told you, if you ever bring a vagina into this office again you'll rue the day you ever brought a vagina into Sarah Pailin's office. Now eat it! Eat that fishy vagina!’ ”

6. Therapy—Osgood Azitgetz of Chokenhoggin Cumswap, Canada ate 14 two hour therapy sessions which had been paid for prior to his sudden miraculous recovery from chronic excessive repulsive disorder. The complete remission of symptoms occurred after his family doctor advised him to wipe his ass after using the loo. When he requested a refund, Azitgetz was advised by the therapist that he would have to eat it.

5. A Marine—Sgt. Semon Creamens, US Navy, in a boasting match with a rival armed force, claimed that he could eat a member of the US Marine Corp. thus proving superiority of Navy over Marines. Creamans proved his point, completing the task over the course of 4 months, by mixing a small amount of a deceased Marine Corp. Officer cadaver into his hamburger meat everyday until the entire Marine was consumed. Though Creamens considers it a braggable notch in his cap, his fellow officers have advised him not to bring it up at social functions.

4. His Vegetables—Monty Alschult, a six year old from New Tungswick NJ shocked and amazed his parents by executing a task beyond anything they had ever imagined. He ate all his vegetables!

3. A Banister—Tommy “the Termite” Flatz of Persnictity NY chewed through a 14 foot banister over the course of 45 years and digested the chewed wood using the same method employed by termites of ingesting and defecating the masticated wood, letting it ferment and grow tiny organisms which break down the indigestible wood fibers, then re-consuming the moldy rotting wood/organism mixture and repeating this process up to three times until his body actual assimilates the banister.
Flatz not surprisingly is a reclusive loner who has no friends and has never been married. Though available for interviews none were requested.

2. A Suppository—George Phlegm, Nofork VA, ate a suppository.

1. A 1995 Chrysler LeBaron Convertible/Coupe—Stephanie Cringe of Tucumcary NM ate her car when she became so frustrated looking for a parking place that she panicked and ate the vehicle to avoid being late for a job interview. Ironically the position she was applying for was Assistant Editor for Automotive Consumer Guide.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

The McGuillermosteins
America’s Hungriest Dysfunctional Medical Expert Hillbilly Family

George walked in the door with a dead koala bear between his lips. Millicent had already been back for twenty minutes. She brought Kale. Mylee didn’t have such good luck and had one bullion cube that might have been chicken but the wrapper had been removed. Father didn’t think they should eat it because of where it was found (in Yourlee’s butt crack) but Gertrude insisted, saying it was just flavorin’ so it didn’t have to be clean. Clump climbed up the side of the house and came in through the window dragging something disgusting behind him. He was grinning hole to hole and kept saying, “entrails, entrails”

Note: Clump, though dumber than a text only edition of Hustler, had a fortuitous fluke deformity which gave him an insect like body with 6 legs, an exoskeleton, and the ability to live for up to nine days without his head. Father believes he is what all humans will someday evolve into. Unfortunately mating is out of the question because there isn’t a women on earth who would fuck a bug.

“Mother pardon my heaven beetles, Clump you have got to be one of the silliest cuddle bunji muffin willows that ever walked the red bumpy streets of Moldavia. That ain’t nothin’ edible, scholar, you brung 13 feet o’ sea wheat,” said Tropical John.

“Quit yer Vlad maimed jabberwockin Mr. Lime-in-de-Coconut, this heres the entrails of a very voluptuous walrus. That’s good eatin’ right there. Some capers and a cap full of white wine, simmer twenty minutes till tender, and you’re feasting like a Donner,” said Clump.

“Gertie, You ain’t gonna taint the pot with that mess are ya?” said the Tropster.

“Yer mighty well certain I ain’t, San Tropé. We’re not goin’ hungry again tonight…And quit droolin’ on the ko-wally, Gorgeous. Just take it into the garage and skin it, Widja? Ya mangy mildew hospice,” said Gertrude.

“Aunt Gertie, Yourlee keeps flickin her boogers on me and I don’t like stuff that comes outta her half o’ the body. Tell her to—” said Mylee, before she was (Gert)rudely interrupted.

SHAAADDUP! I hate yer voice! I hate the way her mouth opens slightly when you talk! I hate the way you poop all over each other when one of ya sneezes! I can’t believe something so ugly and maldeformed came outta the body of such a beautiful creature as yer mother, may she rest in peace. Now stay outta my sight before I separated ya with a melon baller!” said Gertrude in one of her typical tirades which always end with a threat to separate the twin wretches with whatever cooking utensil she had in her hand at the moment.

Everyone was amused the time she tried it with a piece of muslin cloth. Said the narrator who was the only one who was amused.

“Now, now, now, now, now call off your coyotes there Ger, ger, ger, ertrude, the twins never asked to be conjoined. We, we, we, we was just havin’ a little fun, what with Father gettin’ his sur, sur, sur, sur, sur,…” tried to say Sputter, the brudder with a stutter.

“SURGEONS LICENSE!” interjected Gertrude impatiently.

“—geons license brand new that day and things just got a little outta hand,” finished Sputter.

“I wershed you never done GOT that surgeons license, Father Bother! Yer plumb MEAN! Aw-haw-haw-haw-haw (sob) Aw-haw-haw! Ka-HONK (wheeeeeze)” Said the dominant surgically conjoined twin, Mylee. The other twin, Yourlee has, since conjunction, been reduced to a sad mimicking ape of her sister with no independant autonomy apart from her ability to defiantly flick boogers.

“Well humpy dumpy doo dingy, Sputter. You hurt their feelers. What have you got to say fer yer stutterin’ self, Hooked-on-Phonics? (gee they sure do cry weird don’t they?)” Trailed off Tropical John (a.k.a. Fruit Punch, which they never refer to him as in this story due to the intense homophobia they all share, meaning they’re all gay as jay birds.

“Muh, muh, muh, ME? It were FATHER! He done did the dang stitchin. Iffin you’d ke, ke, kept both their renal glands. We coulda cut ‘em apart after ya sobered up. Ya old COO, COO, COO, COOT!” struggled Sputter who was obviously sexually abused by Father, who is always Ironically referred to as Father.

“I’m workin on a new gland for ‘em, Stutter Butter. But that FRAM filter ain’t gonna do the trick.”

[to be continued but this is just too weird to continue without huffing more Aquanet.—numbsain]