The slap heard round the world.

You could put WWF wrestling on a TV next to the last play of the Jazz game last night and wouldn’t be able to discern a difference. If Kevin Durant weren’t the superhuman man he is the lesser CJ Miles would have ripped his arm off with the slap he administered.

Why didn’t the refs call if then, E?

Because Jerry Sloan was on the sidelines peeling off hundreds to the refs.

Exaggeration!

Tell that to the sprawling sub hematoma on Durant’s forearm. Also, when did hip thrusts become allowed in the NBA? Durant should put a restraining order on the sexual deviant Miles. Silly Miles, this is not MMA. Grappling is not allowed in the NBA. Get some class pervert!

Dental School

I have come to the conclusion that I am a masochist. I have worked very hard to get into a position to be mentally beaten for 4 years. Even more troubling is that I am paying for it. Out the rectum to be precise.

Bring on the beatings.

A clever, appropriate title for the filth this post represents.

“You’d be popular in prison. Just like the Tupac song, you’d get around.”

“Of applause? It’s a little hazy what you’re implying.”

“You’d get used like you had a tattoo of a naked woman on your back.”

“Yeeaaahhh…I hear your words but I’m not following you. I’d be a horrible lemming. Can’t tell if it’s my fault or yours.”

“A tattoo of a naked woman on your back would be enticing to imprisoned men that haven’t seen a woman in years. The image would facilitate the raping of your backside.”

“That just does not compute with me. I’ve decided your metaphors suck.”

“Are you f’ing with me? Talking with you is like trying to reason with a retarded fellow that is anxiously engaged in humping a doorknob.”

“Ooohh you just used the “R” word. Please show some respect to mentally challenged individuals.”

“Allow me to demonstrate my apologies and respect by ripping your arm off and beating you about the groin and face with it.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re you.”

The little man just stood there, in near rigor mortis, nothing but his lips moving. “This is one of those times when I need a drink that's flavor is only eclipsed by its surgical grade anesthetic effect.”

“I do not give a shit. Let me see your arm.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I’d rather you do. Now relax and think about ponies, butterflies or whatever you like.”

“Will it hurt?”

“It won’t hurt me at all. Man, I slay myself! But seriously, this is going to hurt you like hell. Pay no attention to my laughing.”

“That is the gayest thing I’ve ever heard. How about a pain killer first?”

“Sir, I cordially invite you to check and see if perhaps your little boy vag isn’t bleeding all over the place.”

“Very well, let’s get this over with.”

I put a little tension on his arm and received an education. In hind sight, I probably should not have provoked this young man. The provocation lent itself to superhuman strength I never would have thought conceivable from his meager frame. I type my recounting of the event from a body composed of bruises, cuts, stitches, casts, screws, a halo and an assortment of metal rods that would make an erector set enthusiast inordinately jealous. Much like a quilt made from many pairs of Levis, I looked as though I had been sewn together from a collection of battered body parts. A poor man's version of Frankenstein, if you will. As a bonus, I got my own customized colostomy bag that I can accessorize with my catheter, respirator, casts and bandages.

I may have been sexy before but now I’m downright orgasm inducing. Cast and sling movement restrictions only enhance my ability to pose sexily. I simply exude sex. I’ve always been called a sex machine, now I resemble one too.

The little bastard most likely considers himself lucky I’m in a wheelchair and incapable of physical retribution. I can only assume he cheaply struck me instead of fought me straight up because he knew he’d lose in the most ignominious way possible if he were to fight me like a man. I can’t say for sure because the beating he gave me erased the recollection of how I’ve arrived at my present predicament. I don’t remember him driving a fully loaded Mack truck to the appointment and he certainly wasn’t behind the wheel when I gripped his arm. The only thing I remember is that I pissed everywhere. There was no place that was not covered in my piss. Point of fact, only a Mack truck containing two high yield nuclear bombs could inflict pain upon me. I wonder where he purchased such weapons. Clearly he had help.

To be continued? Probably not.

Implants are specious by nature.

Let me qualify that statement. Large, disproportionate implants are specious. All they are is an unabashed physical manifestation of a woman’s innumerable insecurities.

The decision to get them abnormally large is actually a sad concession. The woman realizes her face and personality will never get her the attention she wants and so she purchases it in the form of chest inserts. They bring the attention the woman deeply yearns for. Sadly it is all negative attention. The newfound attention is exclusively derived from their chest. All other attributes are mere accessories.

Don’t believe me? Pam Anderson. What was the first thing you thought of? Her monstrous rack, right? One more time. Dolly Parton. Why do you ever doubt me? I am clever enough to do this with half my brain tied behind my back.

Women if you are going to get implants, get them in a size proportionate to your body. Get them to restore the elevation they once had before children sucked it out of them. Get them after breast cancer takes one or both. Get them to restore perkiness that age and gravity have taken. Let not the compulsion or impetus be attention. You only deprecate yourself and your boobs by getting them. Get them abnormally large and I submit that your self esteem will plummet faster than Obama’s approval rating. You will quickly learn that men only respond to you because of them. That’s not what you want. Let your natural frame, or a purchased proportionate one, complement your personality. Improve what you can internally not under a surgeon’s scalpel. Respect yourself and for hell’s sake don’t alter perfectly natural beauties into freakishly disproportionate mounds. Straight up, when they’re that big, they don’t look good. They make you look like you should be a royal suck up to the Red Queen in the new Alice in Wonderland.

Massive boobs only suggest they are all a woman has to offer. What should women with massive homegrowns do? Absolutely nothing.

Isn’t that a mite bit hypocritical, E?

Only to a dolt.

Silly liberals.

An excerpt from a friend's Facebook post that I replied to then thoroughly owned a dill hole on. Copied as seen on Facebook.

SW Well, I can't wait until November when the Dems get destroyed and the #hcr gets repealed.

EH Ditto.

ML LOL, well friend, maybe wake up a little, stop blindly following the party of NO, who has done NOTHING other than run up the national debt, ruin America's reputation in the world, start illegal wars, pass legislation the allows the government to illegally spy on its own people, and completely roll over and pander to corporations rather than Americans. They lie, cheat and steal and you KNOW it. Grow up my young repub friends and think for YOURSELVES for once. Love YA!

EH Thanks for the advice, Comrade L. I gave it its due consideration while dropping a deuce. I think for myself. That is why I'll never support Obama who wants to take that right from me and bestow it upon the government. Juxtapose this administration's spending to Bush's and rethink your statement regarding the national debt.

ML Tut, tut, tut, E. Blindly following the blind. I call total bullshit on the majority of you all thinking for yourself, lol. Lets just spout the same ol' lies of rush and glenn and sean, lies that have been PROVEN to be such, lets just REFUSE to work with ANYONE that will not completely cave to your demands, no compromise, no debate, just miscommunication, mistruth, half turth and lies. Yeah, that basically sums up the republican party. Oh and learn what juxtapose means, moron, i think you mean compare. (Sorry steve, your moron friend here is so rediculous, couldnt help myself)

CW I like this M fellow.

KW He does have some excellent points.

RR Blindly following the blind? That would be the Dims. CNN's - not Fox's - latest poll has a whopping 59% of the country opposed to Obamacare. Seems like Obama and Pelosi are the ones with their heads somewhere dark and stinky, along with their sycophantic followers in congress. And those cheering them on as well.

EH Well said, R.

M, I don't know what's worse, your inability to think for yourself or the fact that you let BO think for you. You are both complete tools.

Juxtapose- to place close together or side by side, esp. for comparison or contrast. (www.dictionary.com) Buy a dictionary and educate yourself. BO can't do everything for you. Perhaps after purchasing a dictionary, you can spell ridiculous and truth correctly. You obviously don't know what truth is so I shouldn't expect you to be able to correctly spell it. Spell check is free but apparently not idiot friendly.

How can anyone support the dems right now? The daily increasing levels of corruption and blatant bribery are staggering. Yesterday they voted against the will of the people they supposedly represent and pissed all over the Constitution. You only prove your stupidity by supporting them, M.

I hope the next time you salute the poster of Stalin you have hanging in your room that you hit your head hard enough to dislodge some stupidity and allow room for sense.

Freedom died a little bit on Sunday.

Stupidity pervades our very existence. Mainly in the form of democrats.

It is of little wonder why the democrats have a jack ass to represent them. Both in logo and president.

I cannot begin to explain my rage and will not try to because it will only enrage me further.

Weekly stress.

For some unexplainable reason, I have always wanted a stalker. That is until I realized I’ve had one for quite some time now.

Church is usually a place of edification, reverence and of learning. These are no longer possible due to an impediment named J. I am on a constant state of high alert for J’s location. She makes me incredibly uncomfortable. I hug many girls at church without discrimination. All but one return the hug. J differentiates herself each week. J grapples me and releases me only after her muscles have vanquished their energy stores. Her inability to read my body language that vehemently screams I want to be anywhere but close to her coupled with the numerous failed attempts to free myself from her grasp once she catches me cause me to elude her every time I see her. I'll see her laser in on me from across the room and I’m spurred into evasive action like I stole something. I venture to say that whoever created radar, early warning detection devices and radar avoidance mechanisms had her in mind. I feel like a spy with my constantly scanning eyes surveying the room to know her whereabouts. My location is determined by her. Just like the VESPR theory for electrons, I try to be as far as I can from her. It's bad. I do all I can to keep her the F away from me.

Just to clarify and make sure you don’t think I brought this upon myself, I don’t remember ever initiating hugs with her. Surely she saw me giving every other girl a hug and probably thought she was entitled to one. However, I don’t give her a hug, she takes one. She nuzzles her face in my neck and holds on as though she’s trying to fuse our bodies together. It makes me sad. Spastic movements to indicate I want separation are ignored. The best way to maintain separation is avoidance, even blatant avoidance. Every Sunday I hope she has internalized my blatant avoidance and will correct her weekly folly. Every Sunday I am disappointed anew.

I feel bad about it but what kind of girl makes a man do this? Nobody wants to be like this but she makes me and I’m sure others too. Bad J!