Jizz-soaked vagina emporium
Apparently, people are starting to wonder if I've been replaced by the pod Katy, due to my excessive mushy sincerity. Well, let me remedy the fuck outta that.
For my first trick, I'd like to talk about something close to my, um, heart: monkeys. Now I know there are some who would disagree with the equation monkey equals vagina, and to them I say, you gonna argue with Einstein? I didn't just pull that theory outta my ass, you know. Monkey will always equal vagina. Just so you know. Monkeys were close to Einstein's heart, too. Do not laugh in the face of Einstein.
The other day at the hardware store, I was shocked and delighted to see that they carry a Do-It-Yourself Monkey Ring Kit. No more professional piercer dependency! This is monkey independence! The beauty of it is that it's only 50 bucks for five rings, which I think is a sufficient number of rings for any monkey. Too bad they didn't have this when Jess got the rings in her monkey. I sure hope it comes with a good mirror and an autoclave, though.
On to the second act, which revolves around my beloved tchotchkes and their sex lives. I know I've been remiss in my duty to show you the low-down and dirty details, but frankly, I don't have my tchotchke porn studio set up here yet. Many of my tchotchkes are still boxed up, having their dirty little buttsex out of my sight. However, for the edification of the Internet as a Whole, I have set up an impromptu photo shoot. I'll have you know, I had to pay the participants time and a half due to lack of proper working conditions. I also had to chip in for transportation and medical costs. I sure hope you appreciate the sacrifices I've made to bring you toy-on-toy fucky fucky.
Looks like Gollum has a new Preciousssssss.
I think he's found the One Ring. It's pink and grabby.
Somebody get this poor bastard a towel.
There. Happy now? I've just taken pictures of my tchotchkes fucking in front of my pillow and balanced on top of the Egyptian Book of the Dead. I sense bad karma in all this.
For my first trick, I'd like to talk about something close to my, um, heart: monkeys. Now I know there are some who would disagree with the equation monkey equals vagina, and to them I say, you gonna argue with Einstein? I didn't just pull that theory outta my ass, you know. Monkey will always equal vagina. Just so you know. Monkeys were close to Einstein's heart, too. Do not laugh in the face of Einstein.
The other day at the hardware store, I was shocked and delighted to see that they carry a Do-It-Yourself Monkey Ring Kit. No more professional piercer dependency! This is monkey independence! The beauty of it is that it's only 50 bucks for five rings, which I think is a sufficient number of rings for any monkey. Too bad they didn't have this when Jess got the rings in her monkey. I sure hope it comes with a good mirror and an autoclave, though.
On to the second act, which revolves around my beloved tchotchkes and their sex lives. I know I've been remiss in my duty to show you the low-down and dirty details, but frankly, I don't have my tchotchke porn studio set up here yet. Many of my tchotchkes are still boxed up, having their dirty little buttsex out of my sight. However, for the edification of the Internet as a Whole, I have set up an impromptu photo shoot. I'll have you know, I had to pay the participants time and a half due to lack of proper working conditions. I also had to chip in for transportation and medical costs. I sure hope you appreciate the sacrifices I've made to bring you toy-on-toy fucky fucky.
Looks like Gollum has a new Preciousssssss.
I think he's found the One Ring. It's pink and grabby.
Somebody get this poor bastard a towel.
There. Happy now? I've just taken pictures of my tchotchkes fucking in front of my pillow and balanced on top of the Egyptian Book of the Dead. I sense bad karma in all this.
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 7:50 PM
9 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
OMG Bucky!
You had me going until I opened the link.
Shit. You got me.
*puts away credit card*
But they are guaranteed not to crack or fade...
Say hi to Osiris for me. Oy.
I have to ask about the properness of the rings being the size for a childs grip, that just seems wrong to me.
Um. Wow. Yeah... so NOT clicking the linky linky.
Those monkey rings look like hours and hours of fun, but they'd require some upper body strength I'm thinking. And it's good that those two are fucking each other, since they're both really far too hideous -- they're well-matched. Except for size, but then, as everyone knows, that really doesn't matter.
Do monkey rings hold magical powers? To rule over all evil. And more importantly, is it safe to let a hobbit play with your monkey ring?
See... I always called those Monkey BARS.
Which brings to mind a bunch of monkeys ordering drinks at a bar, which is a visual I don't think I can quite cope with just now... I just ate lunch. Excuse me...
So that's why my boyfriend says he loves monkeys...had no idea he was so in tune with einstein;>
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