The Fancy Catfish

so i ran the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon yesterday. ">lookie and what does this have to do with gangbangs? i'll tell ya. there exists, and not just theorectically, pornography where the 'stars' see how many somethings they can stuff themselves with over the course of whatever time. 24 in 36. 36 in 24. 60 in 1. 26.2 in 6 hours and 29 seconds? no one knows exactly why. maybe it's to see if they can. maybe it's because there are thousands of complete strangers cheering them on. sure, to the 'star', maybe the first few are no problem, even fun. 6 thru 13 and still going strong, not as fun, but they go by quick. somewhere around 16 they have to be thinking "what the fuck am i doing?". "I want to do this?". "Why didn't i get my G.E.D.?" by 18, they are getting iced down down there, legs are jello, hips need replacing. 20 and they wish everything was just a little shorter, but it's not. must finish....

Ok I don't really believe this myself. Most of you who know me won't belive this. Here it goes. For 8 days now I've been a vegetarian. Seriously. Go ahead and read it again if you have to. It's true. I didn't set out to do this, but it kind of just happened. Someone please take me to get some damn bbq. ps. My poop looks different.

i am a reluctant fan of the show 24. total addict. it is crack for my mind. i find it highly entertaining that whenever the directors want to create an eerie, subversive mood they will score the scene with khallool music. my question is this. when foreign television depicts Americans in a poor light, do they set the tone with jessica simpson tunes or the theme from American Idol? what? that's a fair question.

the actual hunt was an overly casual affair. most of the beers were hidden straight into our bellys. Chris pirated some decorative feathers to adorn his crotch and dubbed himself "Poke-a-hotass". i immediately copied his brilliance and became "Ger-on-a-ho". Crissy took a bow as the newly crowned "Dances with Cock". we managed to track down some some chocolate lip gloss and bon bon nail polish in the weeds, got properly liquored up, and started a small but necessary fire in an old wash tub. After some carefully inappropriate sex jokes, it was off to the Bermuda Triangle. HiLo club included a very rare tour of the 'secret' tunnel. across the street, Edna had me change a keg of coors just before i pretended to be Crissy's brother to defend her against Ol' Man Lecher. finally headed over to Sidecar where the flirtations reached such a frenzy that everyone actually had to switch places at the booth to nuzzle and/or avoid their Easter co...

Bllynch is drunk. I am less drunl than he is. He is not better than me. I don't like frito pie. Um. I can play more than ceiling better than he can; I don't kknow what to say. blynch I fucking hate you. say something. This isn't a message. Oh jesus. The end. Is that the magic word? I think I just did it. Oh fuck. I never even wanted to start. ok. I'm an asshole. I d0n't know who my friends are. MB