The Ass Pinata
It's... too... beautiful. They should have sent a poet... My thoughts... they can only be expressed... in song....
(deep, rich baritone; tears streaming down face)
Oh, say can you see
by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed
at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars
thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched
were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare,
the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night
that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
via Geekologie
posted by Clinton at 3:08 PM
8 Comments:
but what does the front look like!
shaved or au natural?
and you what else that ass pinata
needs....
dingle berries. yeah thas right i done said dingle berries.
I have decided to add on to this post, but I've decided to do so in the comments section (as you may have noticed) because... well, why the fuck not? My blog, my rules, who will survive, what will be left of them, etc.
Anyway... The Ass Pinata. Or, rather, The Ass Pinata? Is really in high demand? Because it seems like it'd be fun as a joke for a few minutes, and then would just be sad and whatever the opposite of arousing is.
And you know... I mean, YOU KNOW... there's some genius out there that's bought one of these and filled it up with chocolate pudding and then cracked it juuuuust right between it's little pinata cheeks and then had himself (it was a guy that did this, guarenteed) the biggest laugh he'd ever had. So big a laugh, in fact, that he shit himself. Thus closing the circle and calling forth The Watcher In The Woods.
I really feel sorry for the sweatshop immigrants that have to assemble these fuckers. That's just the worst job. Like worse than actually having to fondle real asses all day. Because at least with that, you could work up a fetish or something. This is just demeaning.
So yeah... that's it. it's about 4:30, I'm thirsty for a drink, and I'm thinking about Ass Pinatas and how it's pretty much the end times.
I wish you well.
Jason... I fucking KNEW someone was going to come along and mess up my in-comments blog continuation. I KNEW IT!!!!
I mean, obviously it's not your fault... you ain't psychic... but still, I fucking hate being right all the time about everything.
Anyway, I don't think the Ass Pinata has a front. It's just a back. Which is disturbing in a Clive Barker kind of way.
Apparently severe bordem at work makes me a hostile nerd.
Sorry.
Anyway it's time for that drink, no?
I appreciate your omitting my name in that "shitting my pants" story. You're a good friend.
There is something SO WRONG about an ass pinata. You HIT the ASS and make CANDY fall out? Like at PARTIES?
So, so, SO wrong.
Unless you have sex with it.
Then it's ok.
That's the kind of thing you buy once...
Then some wise-ass at the party takes pictures of you dry-humping it.
Then those pictures end up on the web.
Then they resurface during your campaign for City Commissioner #4.
Beautiful poem very very nice, and the picture is so funny because has the same form of an ass , so It is the truth.sometimes I like to write some poems but I need a viagraonline to can do it because I do not have the talent.
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