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Valentine’s Day
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“International Day of Older Persons”
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A few of my favorite things…
July 20, 2010 By 53 Comments
Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure Cuba Gooding and Whoopi Goldberg are getting ready to have either a miracle birth or just a good old fashioned Christmas grope. In either case, I suspect that Cuba has already formed an opinion on the authenticity of the natural vaginal flavour.
I think you might be right, Crazy (is that Polish, btw?). By the looks of it, Cuba can smell a truly authentic Vulva a mile away.
(Oh, and in case you were wondering, I have no idea what that means…)
Japanese. Thanks for asking.
笑！
答えてくれてありがとう…
ROR! Grad I could help.
I have to use “Vulva” because normally my vagina smells and tastes like high quality chocolate…..
Hahaha!
Really, NM, was there ever any question?
Haha, I should probably use Vulva myself because I am told my penis tastes like high quality white chocolate. Sorry!!
HAHAHA!! Dude, I’m not even going to ask who told you that!!!
ps. So, who told you that, anyway?
I’m impressed that they got someone to pose for the Valentine Day’s shot. Who says that the Larry Flynt empire doesn’t have good taste?
Ha!
When I first read your comment G, I thought you were saying that Larry Flynt was the one posing for the shot. All I kept thinking was, “What kind of “porn star” wears a belly button ring, anyway?”
Then I realized just how ridiculously stupid that thought was.
Wow, Easter will never be quite the same for me!
Ha! Well, lucky for me, by the time the Easter cake rolls out I’m usually too busy hovering over the toilet, ejecting the seventeen pounds of chocolate I had for breakfast.
ah ha! The old “lamb to slaughter” cake. Haven’t seen one of those in….well, acutally never. And I hope I never do again – lol!
Oh, those silly holidays – they bring out such beauty! And only you, b, could capture that essence. :)
I know!
I think the last time I enjoyed one of those delicacies was back when I had my easy-bake oven. But even then they were more like “baby lamb to slaughter” cakes. (Only because the oven wasn’t very big.)
Thank-you for appreciating my unique essence-capturing, Talon. For a while there I was beginning to think that no one would notice.
My God,
I appreciate that the U.N. has decided to update the marketing materials for the International Day of the Older Person but I can’t help feel that perhaps they’ve gone a bit too far. Personally, I find this years theme off “You can’t prosecute, I’m just a doddering old fool with wandering hands” to be offensive and only representative of a small minority of older persons.
Still, I suppose it’s better than the horrible “golden years/golden showers” theme that some were proposing. That was just damned tasteless.
Shocking and disappointing, Bschooled. Hopefully the backlash to this atrocity will be sufficient to give the U.N. pause to reconsider their approach to this significant and important day of celebration.
Your friend,
Don
Don,
I couldn’t agree more. (Well I could, but knowing me I’d probably pull something.)
While I, too, am appreciative of what the “Union of Nymphomaniacs” are trying to do, I almost feel as though after a certain age, “wooing the elderly” in the hopes of convincing them to join their Organization is somewhat impractical. (Not to mention horrific, especially for the non-older persons forced to participate in these aesthetically-unpleasing photo shoots.)
Funny you should mention the golden years/golden showers theme, though. To tell you the truth, I never realized it was actually a marketing tactic geared toward older persons. I always just assumed it was a Public Service Announcement, warning my generation about what to expect once we finally reached “The Age of Incontinence.”
Hmph. I guess you do learn something new every day.
(Well, maybe not you, per se. But people my age do.)
Thank-you for sharing your valid and passionate concerns, Don. The feistier you are, the more I can sleep at night.
Your friend,
Bschooled.
Grandma Helen: Oh Sam, let me take a look at you. Fred, she’s gotten her boobies.
Grandpa Fred: I better get my magnifying glass. Ha Ha Ha.
Grandma Helen: Oh, and they are so PERKY.
[reaches to cup them]
Grandma Helen: [cut to:]
Samantha: I can’t believe my grandmother actually felt me up.
Hahaha! Congratulations, Dennis! I didn’t think it was possible, but you made me laugh and burned my eyes at same time!
Dear B,
Thank you for the pictorial epic. The happy couple is obviously looking forward to a a great new year, so preggers they are at Xmas, until the kid pops out on New Years, full grown, Benjamin Button style, onto the floor in the middle of their New Year’s Party. They have no idea why his hair is straight, but that’s no buzzkill for these guys, and they love him anyway. By Valentine’s day he meets his one love, who seduces him with her Vulva, of course, until he realizes she makes him insane, and he goes off, silence of the lambs style by Easter. Of course the last photo resolves the paradox and shows how truly brilliant your plot is, for the elderly little girl sits on her father’s lap. He is nearing 80 and has lost all his color, and as she regresses to childhood we realize that the drunken young man that emerged from his mother on that fateful New Year’s Day was actually a little girl who had undergone female-to-male gender transition when she was 23. It’s a heart-worming tail that makes me realize how precious and wonderful all of life’s smallest moments are, like a box of chocolates or something. Anyway, I need to blow my nose and wipe away all these tears before the people at work think I am just reading about Linsday Lohan’s jail sentence on Gawker again.
Yours truly, in humble admiration,
John
Ha! That was brilliant, John!
Really, it was like enjoying life’s smallest and most wonderful moments in the form of a box of chocolates and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream, scooped onto a silence of the lambs cake which was really only there for figurative purposes anyway.
Thank-you for sharing this tour de force with me, John. It’s safe to say I will treasure this heart-worming tail for a lifetime to come. (Depending on how long the lifetime is, of course. But only because my attention span is really short.)
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go and visually work off all these metaphorical calories I just consumed. I’m supposed to be going to the beach this weekend, and the last thing I want is to end up being the “symbolic beached whale” that everyone’s allegorically pointing at.
ps. Don’t cry for Lindsay, according to TMZ she only has 12 days left anyway…
Dear B,
You will be happy to know I have stopped stopped crying for LiLo. I am only vomiting for her now, and that too will pass. And then maybe I will be able to deal with those hiccups I’ve had ever since Britney went to jail. Funny thing, though, nothing changed when Paris went to jail. Though I did once dream of a remake of Chained Heat (Google it, Das Frauenlager in its German release) starring Britney and Paris and LiLo. It’s good to dream, right? The future is made of dreams. Even nightmares are made of dreams. And that’s good too, right? “Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue. And the dreams that you dare to dream some day will come true…”
Yours in dreams,
John
I say if you are going to go for it. Then GO for it. That christmas card is a farce. She should have taken her bra off for the central picture.
Ew, Bearman! My eyes are bleeding!
(But to be fair, that could still be from when I stabbed myself with a fork at dinner…)
lol. some very ‘interesting’ pictures here.
You sure like your special days huh. lol
Thanks, Artswebshow,
Though I can’t really take credit for the pictures (not without serious legal repercussions, anyway), I can take credit for liking my special days.
Aw heck, nevermind…. I’ll take credit for both. But just this once!
(…?)
Thanks for stopping by, Artswebshow,
Bschooled:)
I’m on a ‘work vacation’ bschooled, but I wanted to stop in and thank you for the terrific entertainment!! Makes me wish I had a twin so I could experience reading your blog TWICE!
P.S. Still lovin’ that banner!!
Haha! I wish you had a twin as well, Elizabeth. A Canadian one, who lived next door and could come over and watch the crazy old guy across the back alley while he stands on the balcony yelling expletives at no one in particular.
I have a feeling that it’s only a matter of time before this guy pulls out the old “blood in a bottle” trick. (I’ll keep you posted via Twitter.)
ps. Good luck with the “work holiday”!
Bschooled -
God help me, but I’m beginning to believe that the internet is nothing more than a collection of embarrassing moments, usually involving a close relation (by blood or marriage) which would seem to make it the digital equivalent of most family reunions.
But honestly, who among us here can stand (or attempt to) and say that they’ve never found themselves arranged into a makeshift lean-to during a New Year’s celebration? I’d like to say I haven’t but the good people at the Highway 41 Ramada Inn continue to point this out every time I attempt to order a drink at their understaffed, but overpriced, bar.
And this would be one of tamer positions. Slightly less safe-for-work, if you will, is the Twin Lean-to, in which two members of the opposite sex (and recently, the same sex) are combined into a triangular position of attempted lust and then left to act a prop in group photos or evidence in a later “downsizing.”
There have also been various attempts to make this a threesome, with rather unpredictable results. Usually this begins with a rather scandalous “sandwich-making” dance to something hip and/or hop, followed by stumbling collapse into a triangular heap, perhaps as a result of other “lean-tos” already in place on the dancefloor.
Of course, several other partygoers have been immortalized by Old Man Kodak and his unblinking eye (except for the one “blink,” in which the image is tranferred to film). Our intern, Daisy Wilkins, was part of just such an event during a particularly wild Christmas party, when she passed out among four other female employees on the western side of the makeshift dancefloor/conference room table.
With a little shuffling, some enterprising mailroom employees were able to form the group into a circular shape and snapped a few photos for posterity. It wasn’t until the January company newsletter arrived that she attained instant noteriety. Most of us had forgotten that evening, either due to massive alcoholic intake or stern suggestions from other supervisors who had been witnessed in compromising postions while abusing themselves or company office equipment.
When the photo resurfaced on page one, we all enjoyed an instant flashback. Perhaps “enjoyed” isn’t the proper word, especially in Ms. Wilkins’ case. There she was, in stark, confrontational (and cheap) black and white, in the midst of a circle of women she barely knew or remembered, captioned with:
“Daisy “Chain” Wilkins Entertains at Staff Xmas Party”
Well, shortly thereafter Daisy Chain, or “DC,” resigned, leaving for another job at an unspecified location in an unspecified city in an unspecified state under an unspecified name.
Good times.
Thanks for the pix, bschooled. Otherwise it may not have happened, as far as we would know.
Sincerely,
C.L. Tanager
Clifton,
Oddly enough, you tales of staff Xmas party follies sounds a lot like my family’s Saturday night Twister parties. http://www.sodahead.com/fun/if-you-could-met-one-of-your-sodahead-friends-who-would-it-be/question-884965/?page=4&link=ibaf&imgurl=http://www.pollsb.com/photos/60/6523-ever_played_naked_twister.jpg&q=naked%2Btwister
Even old man Kodak and his unblinking eye (who, to us is simply known as “Uncle Bill and his flaccid brown eye”), seems eerily similar.
I guess the only real difference would be that our Daisy “Chain” Wilkins (aka. Auntie Horace-she was named after her Father, but later dropped the “ace” part to make it more feminine sounding), has been banned from these events. Only because she can’t hold her liquor and more often than not ends up crossing the line.
But enough about us.
Thank-you for yet another post-worthy comment, Clifton. It goes without saying that the good people at the Highway 41 Ramada Inn are even better, for having seen you in the lean-to (or as I like to call it, the “90 degree-angle fetal) position. Even if they don’t realize it.
Your friend,
Bschooled
Bschooled, I am just glad that in this day and age when 70% of black males don’t stick around to raise their own children, this man went the extra mile to show the world that he not only loves his baby in the womb, he loves his babymama and all of her–yes, and all for the world to see! World, look at him loving on his babymama and baby!!
What? That’s not his baby? He’s just lovin’ on her? Where’s the father—-?
Okay, I’m gonna be sick.
Sorry, bschooled,
Hahaha! I have no idea why, but I can’t stop laughing at the idea of a sandwich using words like “babymama” and “lovin’ on her”.
You make a good point, TSIB. Too many episodes of Maury Povich over the years has obviously made me cynical. ;)
It seems that we have a lot to talk about as you’ve apparently been quite busy during my absence. I love your new header. You look really hot in all five of those posey outfits. Stunning. In fact, when I see those poses and those outfits the very first word that pops into my head is header, and you know I know all about fashion.
I’m very proud of you for becoming the very first childless mommy blogger. This phenomenon is sure to spread like wildfire in a gasoline wetted dessert filled with matchsticks. And that would spread pretty quickly I’m guessing. I don’t know who you got to model for that banner but she is super hot too. And she also makes me think; header!
And once again your favorite things always dance the Samba (is that a dance?) with my favorite things because I love
…backwards hugging (while breast cupping) pregnant black ladies with perfectly outlined treasure trails.
…getting myself ‘in position to party.’
…umm…the advertising industry. Yep.
…making sacrifice fun and hip again!
…allowing elderly perverts to perv all over me while cupping my breasts and drooling on my back.
P.S. I love my doppelganger!
Scott!!
I’m so glad you’re back, I was starting to worry that maybe you ‘d found another, more Italian-style doppelganger. (What can I say, the fact I don’t like pasta makes me very insecure at times.)
Thank-you for the kind words re: my header and banner, though to tell you the truth I knew you’d approve. If anyone can relate to the scrutiny a Mommy Blogger faces, it’s you. I mean, these days, if you aren’t a total MILF, you shouldn’t even bother getting into the mommy blogging business in the first place.
Just cut your losses, settle down and have kids or something.
Anyway, I’m so glad you’re back, Scott. And don’t worry, I’ll get to work on your mommy blogger grab button asap. (I’m thinking you’d look uber-MILF in a fedora!)
b:)
I can see why these are a few of your favourite things, because really, what’s life without an overly intimate Christmas card from a pair of heavily pregnant strangers?
For me though, it doesnt get any better than seeing that pencil thin gentleman perfectly folded like “Wilted Flower” piece of human origami on New Years Eve. He looks just like the agile, yet fragile, kind of man i’d like to party with, all the way till we hit the floor, perfectly postured…
You said it, RTS. While I myself have never experienced the joy of being pregnant, there’s nothing I find more festive than a having a row of “soon-to-be parents sharing TMI” lined up on my fireplace mantle.
…It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, indeed.
To tell you the truth, I think I have partied with that guy. If I remember correctly, it took three months and a shitload of chiropractic appointments to recover from that night. But in the end, it was totally worth it.
Agile yet fragile…if only there was an emoticon for that.
You know me; cruising through the pics until BOOM! It hits me like a ton of bricks, or should I say it “cuts like a knife?” [Cue Bryan Adams' song].
Yes, the lamby (not to be confused with the HORSEY). It seems that Hannibal Lector’s birthday cake has crossed over to Easter. What a sick and yet highly profitable business. “Silence of the Lambs” has suddenly become “Praise the Lord and chop Bo Peep’s baby sheep’s head off.” Are you feeling me, Mother Goose? Stupid ryhmes anyway . . .
I loved the filling-slash-blood. Lector would appreciate that (un)subtle touch, and hope for the real thing.
Excuse me while I’m sucked into the downward spiral of society, where the center cannot hold. The falcon cannot hear the falconer. And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouched towards Bethlehem something-something in Engish?
Indeed B. Indeed. I have no friggin’ idea what that means . . . [Cue "Comfortably Numb"].
Dan,
Unfortunately, you lost me after “Bryan Adams’ song”. Not because you asked me to feel your Mother Goos, mind you (trust me, I get that all the time) but because suddenly my mind began drifting back to the Summer of ’69.
I was thinking about how great that summer was, just me and the guys from school, kicking back and doing that thing we did that I assumed would earn me the title of “Most Popular girl at Fowler High” but instead just earned me a trip to the clinic and the unfortunate nickname “Backseat Bschooled…”
Oh, wait, nevermind. I was thinking about the Summer of ’96.
Still, good times….
Indeed! Lost . . . and then found again! Welcome to my “lost and found” world. My high school nickname was “Loose Cannon”. Or was it “Lost Cannon”? Damn . . .
Highly disturbing. My birthday is coming up and I want that lamb cake though. I don’t know why, but I know I have to have it.
You’re in luck! Turns out I’m starting a business venture specializing in these slaughtered delicacies.
Sure, some might say I’m just saturating an already crowded market, but what will give me a slight edge over the competition is the fact that my cakes will have a real blood filling.
Oh, and they’ll also be covered in a delicious fondant.
So, as long as your birthday isn’t in the next couple of days, you’re good to go.
That’s what happens to me when I have a “green” drink! :-)
Me too!
Actually, come to think of it that’s what happens to me when I have a drink, period.
1. Photo
Hunny you hold the kid I’l hold the food.
2. Photo
Alal is good
3. Photo
If you’re out of your normal sea carp sent. Try our Authentically natural vaginal flavor till you can get to the store in the morning.
4. Photo
Please remember to keep your sacrifice lamb cake covered. If you cut it flies will come.
5.Photo
Now where did you say you put my cell phone.
God I need some sleep
1. Photo
Honey you hold the kid I’ll hold her food.
Ha! Nice work, your descriptions are almost more vivid (vivider?) than the actual photos.
Oh, and thank-you for clarifying re: number 1, Ellis. For a minute there I thought maybe you were from Newfoundland…
ps. I guess that joke is only funny if you aren’t from Newfoundland…? And even then it’s touch and go.
Does the cake come in Halal ?
Sadly, no.
But it does come in PETA!
*badum ching*
bschooled, you should be writing comedy (SNL, Leno, Letterman…)
Actually E, I was thinking more along the lines of Two and a Half Men, Full House, Family Matters…
(That way there’s no pressure to be funny.;))
Ha!
And with most those shows no longer on the air, there’ll be no pressure to write at all!
Miss.B.
You have hit a nerve that lay dormant for many years, fishing. In my callow I loved a slim
young lady who fished with me on the odd occasion, and often after, when cutting up bait I would
get an erection just from the smell of the bait, most likely from her attention to detail, how she would flutter
and grasp, how natural our joining was, the sense and the scent, the raw passion..The scale of the brief affair and the net that was cast.
To this day, whenever I scent fresh sea food , a certain memory causes an expansion, I ponder on the bait, I ponder on
the scent. Whilst you may well treat this in a jocular manner, the hit to my quick ,albiet non intentional, has caused
a remorse, she was a better castor than I, and I, the bait.
Likely a take over of my Estates. Thank my deity, I smelt something fishy.
Your (Valentine) Laird..
Laird,
I believe the subtle yet significant Australian/Canadian language barrier has surfaced yet again, as here in Canada we wouldn’t refer to your dormant accoutrement as a “nerve”. I’m glad you enlightened me, however, for I would hate to relocate to Oz one day without being acquainted with certain slang terms that I (embarrassingly enough) tend to use on a regular basis.
Regardless, I am glad I was able to take you back to a place that holds such vivid (and pungent) memories for you. Because when it comes down to it, without memories people are just …um…well, memoryless, I guess.
Great to see you as always, Laird (Valentine). Until next time, I’ll leave you with this- http://www.howtogetridofstuff.com/odor-removal/how-to-get-rid-of-fish-smell/
Bschooled.