Soon I’ll Have My Very Own Clitoris

By Eagle McSweetwater:

©2007 Sweetest Eagle, LLC

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Lately, I've been crying when I see old people holding hands and when I see kittens. I've been reading up on Brangelina and TomKat in line at the grocery store when I'm buying scented candles and Dove Bars. ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

            The other day, I looked at a picture of myself and felt all weird inside. Faint. Like I just wanted to jump the bones of that guy in the picture.

            I looked in the mirror and it got worse. I swear to you, my nipples got hard.

            Jump back.

            I wanna kiss myself.

            I've been wanting to have a baby. I'm 31. Do you think they can work it like they did with Arnold Schwarzenegger in that one movie where he has a baby?

            My friends got together to watch the Lions play Chicago last Sunday. I stayed at home and watched Ty Pennington help fix up a house for a nice couple. What a hottie! I wish he'd come over and fix my house up.  Besides, it was way better than looking at dumb cheerleaders bounce around in their underwear while I drank nasty beer.

            Tired of all these skinny sluts tramping around trying to steal my man.

            Wait! I don't have a man. I have an actual, female wife! I AM a man!

            Dammit, this has to stop.

            Three weeks ago, I was sitting around drinking nasty beer watching

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You know the drill. You can see the rest AT:

RAWWWWWWWWWW! You mofos! Yeah!

3:40 PM - 2 Comments - 3 Kudos - Add Comment

Cops

"Hey, cunt-dick! Get over here and take a look at this." Ted yelled from the front yard, interrupting yet another lottery drawing. It seemed to be a habit of his.

"How does that even make sense?" I bellowed in response, clutching my lottery ticket in hope that I could one day move on from what had become a routine life.

"What? Just get your good for nothing ass over here and take a look at what I brought home." I walked out front and noticed Ted standing, with a shit eating grin on his face, behind his car with the trunk popped open. As I got closer, he moved aside to let me see just what surprise he brought home for me today: four dead cops.

"What do you think?" He asked, still that that stupid grin on his face.

"I think you need to come up with some different insults, maybe some that make at least a little bit of sense."


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6:34 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Drought

For two weeks I have wallowed- pissed, sad, irritated left for dead, lonely and bored.

I have sat in front of my computer working on a whole lot of nothing. I have managed my fantasy football teams; I have looked at all kinds of cool rock and roll artifacts on e-bay and watched an extensive collection of disturbing hilarity on You Tube.

The most significant accomplishment over the course of these days is the collection of possibly the greatest collective of 90's alternative ever put together. You know like all of those late night infomercials begging you not to forget about the soft 70's or the southern rock days. The difference here is being that this music matters... at least to me. Fifty-five songs and counting, every one of them has a traceable root line into my conscious. Funny how that works your senses and all.


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8:01 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

billy

I am billy. I used to kill ants. One day I will kill people. No one will notice me until then. So I made one day last week. Now people notice billy. They say there is billy. He kills people. He kills people with his mind. Not just any people. Important people. Police people. Then they run from billy. billy smiled when they run from billy.


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5:17 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

My Instincts of Self Preservation Suck

There's this redhead where I lurk . She's tall, almost six feet. She's self-conscious about her own height. Somehow she manages to make flat womens' shoes sexy.

Somehow she could make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sexy. Which is no coincidence, really, since that's what she eats for lunch every day.

I know this, because I look at her eating lunch every day through binoculars from my apartment across the street from where she works.

I got this apartment because it is across the street from where she works.

She has tiny tits and she doesn't wear a bra. Her large nipples poke out from her ironic t-shirts when it gets cold.

I hate ironic t-shirts, don't you?


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9:22 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Keg Party circa ’96

Wonder why everyone always buys the red party cups? They make other colors- I've seen blue and yellow for sure, but every kegger you go to, the cups are red. God why can't I just get up the courage to walk over there and start a conversation? I've talked to her a million times... ok a hundred times, at least fifty anyways… We're friends, she said that herself.

Friends. Hmmph. Wonder what she meant by that? I mean are we now becoming "hey what's going on, haven't talked to you in a week, I am thinking about dating this guy" friends? That's bad. I don't want to be that kind of friends.

I have a shit load of those friends, those friends always end up needing you to carry a sleeper sofa to their third floor walk-up apartment.


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8:43 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Bungee cord and an old scarf

A friend of mine, that shall remain nameless, has a bit of a skeleton in his closet. Well it's more like a boy scout in his trunk. You can see how that could be somewhat of a skeleton. You have to get a little history on my friend before this statement makes sense, if it could really make sense at all. This guy isn't a bad guy; at least he wasn't such a bad guy before his last arrest. A year ago he was arrested for the second time driving under the influence of alcohol and, well when that happens to go to jail for about thirty days. In his case he spent X-Mas in the can.

You'd think that a guy, after getting into a mess like that, would learn his lesson. Stop driving drunk, or after seeing the error of his ways, maybe even stop drinking all together and find something positive to do with his life. He didn't lose his license forever but when he got it back he had to take a little Breathalyzer in his car every time he wanted to drive anywhere. Like home from the bar.


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5:22 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Dear Diary: A Warning

I purchased gas masks a few months ago. I even got one of them small rubber
ones that kind of suctions around your kid's head and makes 'em look uber
creepy. Don't ask me why I did it. I wasn't even in the market for them,
but one day I looked on the interweb and bought them.

I'm sitting here able to write because with all communication lines going in
or out, all I have is the computer. There isn't the Internet anymore. That
was gone with the First Wave. Along with most cellular coverage. We've
managed to figure out that with some glitch in the system no one is
bothering to figure out, that Text still works on cell phones. This has made
a world of good. But only if you have someone's number. You can't exactly
just get a hold of a random stranger and hope they haven't become one of the
Chosen.


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6:43 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Mmmmm

Skip the foreplay.
I just want you so bad.

Foreplay is what goes on in my mind all day while I am away from you. Anticipating you enjoying every part of me in a feast of sexual devourment.

I want you everywhere. In my hair, across my back, in my thighs; twisted around me and in me and through me. I want to be in you everywhere. Taking you in with my eyes, my mouth, my hands.


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6:41 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

How Can I Be A Better Person?

Today, as I sat down for my afternoon snack of peanut butter and crackers, I wondered to myself, "How could I be a better person?" I pondered that question during my entire snack time, which is usually devoted to my snack and nothing else; it is an important time of the day. I do everything I can to be the best guy I can be, but I just don't think people appreciate just how damn good I am.


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11:44 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

How To Keep Your Job At 7-11

* The customer is only right if they have the same distaste for people and convenience as the clerk working. A customer that tips is never wrong.

* On the midnight shift, a thirty-something-ish club slut asks to use the lavatory and you tell her "no way". She affirms that she really needs to use the bathroom. You tell her "tough shit." When she tells the owner about it the next day, all he's going to do is write a note on the dry erase board in back that reads, "Need to use the bathroom? Tough shit!"

* A customer has no business asking a clerk about their personal life. So when a customer asks, "Why are you such an asshole?" the clerk then has the option to ban that customer for life.

* Remember, if the customer asks your opinion on any personal matter, store policy forbids you to answer any personal questions. This rule applies for any conversation you don't want to have.


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9:11 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Bunny Rabbit
Current mood: Hopping
Category: Hopping News and Politics

Hi, I'm Rabbit. Bunny Rabbit. Word on the street is someone wants to hear a story about me. Well kid, sorry to be the one to break it to ya, but there ain't any. Unless you're a test rabbit for Proctor and Gamble and getting hair sprayed in the face to see the after effects, then all we do is Jack shit. And I'm talking all day motherfucking long. I'm a Goddamn rabbit. Honestly, what else is there really to say? There is nothing interesting about us. Sure the sex is great and our women are loose, but some six weeks down the road you have another eight to twelve mouths to feed. This may sound a tad harsh, but I don't necessarily lose any sleep when Mamma Rabbit eats any of her young.


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(note: originally posted on Tuesday, July 31, 2007)

12:22 PM - 52 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

I found $300

Years ago, I found $300 on the ground on my way into the gym.

I squinted my eyes at it and then looked around suspiciously because I thought it would probably have a paperclip and some string attached to it. As soon as I bent over, some jagoffs would pull the string and laugh at me. Or Alan Funt's corpse would sneak around the corner and smile weirdly at me.

Lo and behold, though, no string. No Alan Funt's corpse. I pocketed three Ben Franklins toot sweet and figured this about working out:

"Fuck that shit."

On a whim, I decided to rent a hooker for a bit instead.
Still in my Nikes and my spandex I went over to Melvindale and just started driving around. At first I thought I wouldn't find any hookers in Melvindale and that I might have to go to Detroit, or at least Lincoln Park.


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9:03 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Box Cutter Tag

I stare at the gift table from across the backyard, past the badminton net. I stare at my gifts, past the one foot deep kiddy pool full of bright colored floaties and toddlers related to me from one side of the family or the other, their only supervision are my beer swilling uncles who occasionally glance over their shoulders from the picnic table. Dad is drinking with the uncles and Mom is in the house fussing about some part of the vegetable tray or something, sneaking chugs of white zinfandel from the gallon jug she keeps hidden under the kitchen sink behind all the cleaning products where she thinks no one looks. The gallon jug that I sneak drinks from when I hide under there among the bleach, Windex, and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. I heard my Mom say once, "That God Damn Mr. Clean Magic Eraser could bring someone back from the dead…it works so well!" I hide there with my own mini chemistry lab, drinking wine, uncapping all the bottles of cleaner until my brain is swimming around in my skull, my eyes twitch fast in their corners.


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5:07 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Capsule

I just swallowed it. I have no idea what's gonna happen.

Oh no, it was no accident. They practically forced it down my throat!

Why so tempting? Because it was shiny and red and looked like a hard shelled Mike & Ike and had a picture of a ladybug on it. Too delicious looking not to eat. Thing is, you'd think the manufacturer would know better than to put a "Magic Towel" inside an easy-to-stuff-in-your-face capsule.

What were they thinking? Am I to be responsible for their erroneous packaging blunder?


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5:04 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment