UNI-PEDE RECYCLER

As a fervent and almost militant environmentalist, I always strive to not only create awareness but demonstrate new ideas to inspire others.  I have been carrying some extra body fat lately that I wanted to lose.  While watching the movie The Human Centipede I came up with a brilliant idea.  The idea would not only help me lose the excess weight but would be a bold and innovative way of demonstrating environmental consciousness through recycling.  For two weeks I would attach myself to myself, ass to mouth.  I would become a Human Uni-pede or Solo-pede as it’s called in Brazil.  I’d look kind of like those bugs in the M.C. Escher drawing.  This would serve two purposes.  First, I would maximize my body’s ability to absorb the most nutrients possible from each meal.  25% of food’s  nutrients are typically not absorbed by the body and are simply wasted down the toilet.  I would be able to, through re-digesting my own waste, absorb up to 98 % of nutrients from each meal.  Let’s see those kids in Ethiopia be THAT efficient with their UNICEF meal rations.  That’s where the second benefit comes in.  It would raise awareness of world hunger and the need for recycling.  Hell, those skinny kids with flies around their heads on T.V. would be made a thing of the past if they all just went Uni-pede.  I plan on getting surgically connected to my own asshole in the near future.  I have some preparations to take care of first, however.  I need to get a LASER hair removal on my genitals so I don’t have a pubic goatee.  I, especially, need to have my ass hair and anal rim pubes zapped since my lips will be grafted to my sphincter.   I will also need to accustomize myself to taking my food through a tube up my nose that drains into my stomach since my mouth will be rendered inoperative.  I am also starting yoga classes to limber up.  In the position my body will be in it will require not only extreme flexibility but if I expect to be mobile I’ll need to learn to walk on my hands since my legs will be kicked up over my shoulders to facilitate mouth/ass contact.  I’ll keep you updated on the progress.  Rusty, out.

BUNNY RABBIT RAPIST

When I was about 13 years old my parents bought a white bunny rabbit.  In the garage, a cage had been put together that was about 6” wide x 6” long x 4” high and constructed of just 2x4’s and chicken wire.  In the cage was hay for bedding, the feeding bowl, a water suckle bottle and . . . that god damn rapist of a bunny.  Its pink eyes pulsating with anxious erotic anticipation.  Its brilliant white fur prickling as the muscle and skin beneath it shuttered at the thought of the sexual assault it was about to commit.  Its victim?  Its victim was me.  I was raped repeatedly as a child by my sadistic albino bunny.   His name was LUCIUS, which was NOT a name given by me, but rather by my parents, and which I can only assume he was named after the Roman Republic dictator Lucius Cornelius Sulla.  Lucius, however, told me, on repeated occasions, in bunny speak, that I was to address him only by the name LUSCIOUS after, as he put it, his “lusciously fat bunny cock.”  Now, as absurd as the name Luscious is for a bunny to name itself, I have to admit the bunny WAS fairly well endowed, but that’s beside the point.  The fact is that Luscious was a RAPIST! 

                My parents never paid attention to the bunny after they had purchased it.  They must have assumed I would enjoy having a bunny in the house as it added to the spectrum of trapped animals in our domestic zoo such as our cats, gerbils, fish, dogs, etc.  Eventually, being the kind-hearted soul that I am, I became concerned that my parent’s inattentiveness towards the bunny would lead to it starving and dying.  I decided to be the caretaker of yet another pet project; no pun intended.  So every day I fed it and refilled the water, which was easily done from outside the cage.  The problem came when I had to perform the weekly hay bedding change.  This involved entering the cage.  

                When I entered the cage to change the bedding is when the bunny went into action.  I had to bag up the old hay in order to replace it.  This required staying in there for about five minutes.  The bunny was instantly drawn towards my hairy exposed legs.  My calves represented the pulsating and glisteningly wet vagina of a horny female bunny just aching for a thick serving of bunny red rocket to get shoved in it.  Luscious assumed the “hugging hump” position on my calf and started rubbing one out, literally, with his “lusciously fat bunny cock.”  In the beginning I was repulsed by this and worked quickly, in a panic, and constantly kept moving to prevent the violation.  The only problem with that was that it resulted in a half assed job and I would need to go in there more frequently.  So, like any good serially raped victim I resolved to just let it happen and go with it.  After awhile I would enter and just let Luscious go at my leg with fervor and bust his bunny load all over my ankles.  I even began to look forward to it after awhile.  I got a sick sort of pleasure out of seeing him dry thrusting and quivering at just the look of me when I came into the garage.  He loved me, he really loved me, like no other animal I’ve ever known.  Soon I craved the attention and intensity of the Luscious’ sexual desire.  His pent up bunny balls coughing up a full thimble’s worth of Easter jizz was what made the end of my week complete.  Sadly, Luscious died of natural causes or blue balls from a two week vacation we took.   I would be lying if I didn’t say that I missed that little rapist after he was gone. 

UN GAY BOYS 3 (SEXTING)

Late night text conversation between Me and my buddy Hobart.

Rusty [10:42] Hey can you bring your laptop for Tuesday's seminar.  Also, you need to come out of the closet already...

Hobart: [10:43]  I can do that… And for your information I am out of the closet…

Rusty [10:44] LOL, Bout time!!!

Hobart [10:45] I followed your lead.

Rusty [10:51] I’ve lead you to the promise land.  Now u can blow, suck and fuck all over the place with no attachments.  Plus you’ll get rich cause all gay guys are rich like that guy in the movie “The Jackal” that Bruce Willis meets at the club, seduces, kisses, eats his Chinese food, and shoots in the chest.

Hobart [10:52] Are you saying I’m gonna get shot in the chest?  Or catch shots in the mouth?

Rusty [10:54] I’m gonna coat ur tonsils in man milk and then kick u six feet deep in ur chest to make u swallow it.

Hobart [10:55] Well the joke’s on you because I would have swallowed it any way…

Rusty [11:00] Actually, the joke is on u because I have the rare talent of reverse ejaculation.  I can create a vacuum in my scrotum and my penis goes from shooting to sucking like a shop vac! Uh Oh, somebody just got their jizz back! Nice try, fag!

Hobart [11:02] I’m not the fag.. You’re the one who is fantasizing about me sucking your dick!

Rusty [11:02] It isn’t fantasizing it’s predicting.

Hobart [11:03] This year’s South American Humanitarian Society conference will be fun with both of us there.

Rusty [11:07] Won’t be there gay boy u’ll have to suck Thomas’ fat little Vienna sausage dick instead.

Hobart [11:08] Where will you be?

Rusty [11:09] At your uncle’s house.

Hobart [11:10] I don’t have an Uncle…

Rusty [11:12] Then who the hell’s house am I at right now?  He said he was ur Uncle and he was gonna comp me a free massage because I knew u.  That’s why I’m naked sitting in a kiddie pool full of KY.

Hobart[11:13] Fag.

Hobart [11:14] If it was my Uncle it would be astro glyde… The preferred anal sex lube.

Rusty [11:17] I was on welfare before the job that I’m in now, so food stamps only bought me jars of cold coagulated turkey fat that I had to preheat and inject into my ass.  Life was tough back then I wasn't gonna let the man keep me down, a real G's gotta live life to the fullest u know what I’m sayin’…?

Hobart [11:27] Does that mean you love me?

Rusty [11:29] U complete me.  We’re like the Wonder Twins, we can’t transform into the form of a refrigerator, teacup, or a pterodactyl until we touch penis tips.

Hobart [11:33] When can this happen, I’m game!

Rusty [11:35] I got a half chub right now just need the go ahead.

Hobart [11:36] Go.

Rusty [11:36] I’m already there.

Hobart [11:39] I’m cumming on you.

Rusty [11:40] Doesn’t feel like it, but I’ll take ur word for it… oh wait.. oh, okay, there it is, ah shit right in my eye!

Hobart [11:42] Quit being a bitch and take it.

Rusty [11:44] Now my eye is gonna be red all day, fuck u, I’m outta here.

Hobart [11:45] Love you…

Rusty [11:46] Love you too..

Hobart [11:47] Fag..

PETRIFIED PIMPIN'

Lately, I have let you in on some of my business ventures (TECHNICOLOR MIDGETS 20AUG2011, SOPHISTICATED CANNIBALISM 31OCT2011, PROFESSIONAL QUADRIPLEGIC CAT JACKER 22OCT2011, etc.) around the world that help keep me so rich.  I tend to fund the more unusual and odd ventures so that I can capitalize on unknown and untapped markets for making money.  My latest money making scheme involves becoming a partial financier in the Chicago, IL. (U.S.), Milwaukee, WI. (U.S.) and Madrid, Spain pimping circuits.  I have always admired pimps for their work ethic.  It’s not easy to regulate and manage multiple “bitches and/or hoes” while simultaneously ensuring that bitches “betta have yo’ money” as is so eloquently stated in the pimpin trade (or in Madrid, “Las Perras deben tener mi dinero.”  The problem with the standard pimping circuit is that the game is played out.  Macs gotta stretch their legs and bitches just ain’t the same bitches no moh.  So, I gathered together a few of my pimp associates and we hashed out a plan to develop a new and unexplored market; an untapped resource if you will.  We are going to tap the vast necrophiliac underground.  Those members of society who have been shunned or even arrested because they want to fuck dead women, guys, goats, muskrats, road kill, ducks, whatever, as long as it’s deceased… will have an outlet for their pent up sexual desires.  Why should you have to settle for cheating on your wife with a whore who’s heart’s still beating!  I say, that’s unfair, and to be honest, it’s borderline lifest….that’s right, I said it,  LIFEST.  So what if you’re dead, should you be discriminated against by the living for who you are?! Hell no!  Sorry I’m getting off on a tangent.  I just get a little worked up because as you know I used to date and almost married a zombie chick once (MY ZOMBIE LATINA, 10OCT2011), so you can imagine I have a soft spot for the dead.    Well, as this plan is still in the works and I don’t want to be trumped by some other necrophiliac pimp entrepreneur this is where I’ll leave this discussion until the follow up post. Keep that pimp hand strong!

BUM BODY HEATERS

As you all know I am quite the environmentalist.  I feel strongly that all of us should do our part to help preserve our planet by finding renewable and low impact ways to sustain ourselves for the benefit of all.  I was researching ways of heating my home recently.  I looked at solar power, solar steam generating systems, geothermal, and even considered restructuring portions of my home so as capture the most sunlight for heating naturally.  About 7 months ago I had a eureka moment while reading War Against The Weak by Edwin Black.  It occurred to me that I could simultaneously do my part to help President Obama boost the national economy, if only in a small way, as well as help to feed and house the homeless of America, and heat my home in a revolutionary and renewable way.  I travelled around the local metropolis close to where I live and gathered up about a two dozen homeless men and about a half dozen homeless women to come back with me to my palatial home in the country.  It was quite easy as what I offered besides a turkey leg each and 5 dollars was the proposal of a warm night’s sleep indoors and more food.  In my house I have installed a subfloor heating system using a similar concept to radiant floor heating.  Along my hallways and in every room I have installed just under the floor 6 foot long by 3 foot wide by 3 foot deep insulated compartments with a solid venting cover covering them that is level with my Bolivian hardwood flooring.    Once arriving at my home with the riff raff they are treated to a sumptuous meal prepared by my cooking staff to include the following: roasted baby pig, veal, chicken parmesan, caeser salad, roasted sweet potatoes, clam chowder, and for desert there is pecan pie and lemon meringue pie for those with nut allergies.  I also brought out four bottles of rather tasty Chardonnay laced with ample amounts of horse sedative.  After about an hour all 30 of them are semi-comatose.  I have them thoroughly cleaned by my staff to eliminate any smells and coated them in delousing powder.  Then one bum is placed in each of the compartments throughout the house and chained to the bottom.  As we all know humans, on average, produce and radiate approximately 250 BTU’s of body heat while sleeping and 400 BTU’s while awake and potentially even more depending on metabolism rates.   If I want to “turn up the thermostat” I literally turn up a thermostat on the wall that determines what dosage of adrenaline to inject into the room’s human heating units.  This injection wakes them up a little to a lot depending on how much more heat I need them to produce.  Now, obviously 250-400 BTU’s is not an overly significant amount of heat but like most environmentalists I am not totally committed to the cause I just want to be able to say “I’m doing my part.”  Plus, have you ever been in a small room with 4 to 5 people and it starts to get hotter and hotter in there until someone says open a window?  There’s something to be said about the power of the human body to produce warmth.  Now, of course, my system isn’t perfect.  It’s more of a prototype than anything.  I still have the occasional problem with the bum heaters where they go bat shit crazy inside their little compartment for whatever reason, whether it be the limited food supply to keep them alive, the constant sedation, claustrophobia of being in a box in some one’s subfloor, you know, whatever it might be.  I have had to make some modifications to account for the cleaning of fecal matter and body odor on a daily basis as well.  This has been solved by using a bleach and water flushing of the compartment which handles the problem quite well.  As G.K. Chesterton once opposed the British Eugenicists in the 1920’s for their attempts to sterilize and eradicate the “feeble minded” and “inadequate” members of society to make way for those of more intelligent and “worthy” stock; I propose a different approach.  I don’t want to eliminate those members from our society; I want them to flourish.  They could usher in a new era of renewable resource to rival even that of the big oil companies.  The environmentalist of the future would have found their new triumphant energy source and the greedy oil companies would be banished from this earth never to pollute and take advantage again.  

CENTENARIAN NARCO LORDS

An underground epidemic is occurring that few, if any, people know about.  It involves an insidiously addictive new drug, if you can call it that, which makes the crack epidemic of the 1980’s look like a frat house rufee party for naïve freshman college girls.  The most prevalent targets of these addicts are older men; the older the better.  The most prized of that demographic are the centenarians (those who have reached 100 years or above in age), and of those the most rare and highly prized are the super centenarians (humans having reach 110 years of age or older).  Many elderly men, believe it or not, are facilitators of these addicts, and thus the catalysts for the rapid up-tick in addiction cases and violent crimes related to it.  What is this new drug that is sweeping the Nation?  If you’ve ever heard the joke “He’s so old that when he busts-a-nut, powder comes out!”, then you’re more apt than most to understand the dilemma.  No one quite knows where it started but the urban myth runs along the lines of those propogated about the AIDS virus.  For AIDS it was a “known fact” that a gay guy went to Africa, fucked a monkey that was infected with the virus, travelled back to the United States thus unleashing that plague upon everyone….thanks gay guy.   Similarly, the gay community has “allegedly” contributed to this scourge that has befallen us as well.  The urban myth goes that in a public bathroom in San Francisco one of the stalls had a hole drilled into the wall of it.  This modification of course instantly converts it into a GLORY HOLE room.  One day a young gay man, or straight man looking to validate his heterosexuality (see Post THE UNGAY BOYS, 9SEP2011), goes into the glory hole stall.  A centenarian of 105 years old is in the stall next to him and inserts his penis through the hole.  After 10 solid minutes the elderly mystery man’s cock is fully fellatiated and he ejaculates.   Rather than a gelatinous mass permeated with spermatozoa the young man gets a mouth full poof of powderized man fertilizer.  What, until that day in San Francisco, had yet to be discovered by the gay community, or heterosexuality curious community, is that powderized ejaculate creates an extremely euphoric effect in humans.  Scientists do not yet know why powdered jizz has such a potent narcotic nature whereas normal gelatinous cum does nothing.  The euphoric feeling is on par with or better than that of heroine, and the ultimate benefit is that it is, in theory, free.    The demand for old man ejaculate shot through the roof.  Highly addicted jizzheads began raiding retirement communities, nursing homes, bingo parlors, and VFW’s everywhere.   Old men were being sucked off left and right.  The fact that elderly men were likely to be on a fixed income did not help the situation as they were more and more likely to bust powdery nuts into young men’s mouths for extra cash.  So many old men were being fellatio’d that they, literally, began running dry, no pun intended.  So these young men began experimenting with other methods such as taking raw ejaculate from younger men, putting it in a spoon, heating it until it crystallized and then sniffing it.  It worked, but as far as sniffing jizz goes it was the equivalent of smoking skunk weed vs. some sweet sticky-icky Kine bud.   It just isn’t as good.   This significant desire for “the older the berry the sweeter the jizz” product has created the equivalent of narco-bosses out of some super-centenarians.  They have harems of the oldest fucks imaginable hopped up on cocktails of rufees (to keep them sedated) and Viagra (to keep them hard and producing).  These super-centenarian drug lords milk their centenarian and sub-centenarian captives like cattle creating mounds of powderized ejaculate that sells for millions of dollars.  The reason you haven’t heard of this is because who the fuck would be believe there are 110+ year old Scar Faces out there with Narco Sperm Empires.  It’s usually dismissed as just another gay slander against elderly homosexuals and nothing more is said about it.   I just wanted to make you all aware of it so your children, homosexual or not, do not succumb to this epidemic. 

After Thought: Seeing as how everyone is looking for the next big high because the government keeps making everything except the pharmaceuticals they're selling illegal, it's actually pretty amazing that it took this long for people to figure out that powderized jizz gets you lifted.  I suppose prior to this discovery the only things you did with jizz were swallow, spit, or dodge it.  So, maybe it's not such a surprise it took this long after all.

HAPPY HOLOCAUST

With Thanksgiving coming up soon I always get revved up for the mass slaughter of turkeys that occurs each year.  Despite PETA’s best efforts American’s blood lust for this fat ass bird is limitless.  Do you know why?  Cause they taste fucking delicious! What? Did you expect me to say something else?  I have, however, noticed that the swine is making an increasing dent in the table toppings year by year.  I see more and more honey hams as the main dish all by itself, and this encroachment got me thinking.  I contacted the ASPCA (The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) for information on some of the most prevalent animals species found and neglected.   Assuming I was interested in volunteer work or something they eagerly ran down the list of the creatures.  Obviously, dogs and cats were at the top as they are a common feral animal.  They are followed by gerbils (tossed after anal sex I’d imagine), birds (when you run out of bird seed to sprinkle on your balls), snakes (same reason as gerbils), iguanas (when you run out of crickets for it to eat off your balls), and so on.  After getting that list I teamed up with my buddy Derrick who has one of those big ass barbecue pits on wheels that he tows behind his truck and sells awesome BBQ at sports events, festivals, etc.  I handed him a basket full of puppies that I had recently adopted from the kennel for free, as they were about to be euthanized.  You see, if you grab them up within 2 hours of their execution time you get them for free, whereas if you are too early you gotta pay all those bullshit fees and fill out shitloads of paperwork.  The kennel looks at it from a cost savings perspective.  They figure the animal was a goner anyway and this way they don’t have to pay for the injection, disposal, and associated man hours expended.  So anyways, I said to Derrick “Bro, you make some amazing BBQ out of pork, chicken, steak, etc., but if I were to have you cook up these dogs could you make them just as good?”  Derrick responded with “Shit son! I love dog!  In fact I cooked up a whole German shepherd last week and fed it to these yahoos at a soccer game and they loved that shit.  I’ve got an entire underground market for unorthodox BBQ.  Why what’s up?”  I told him that my plan was to curb the yearly holocaust of the turkey and swine by introducing the forgotten other white meat in this country; the neglected feral animals and house pets.   I said all it would take would be a campaign to convince the American people that a basket full of warm gerbils was just as delicious as, and easier to distribute than, carving a cumbersome turkey or ham.  A plate full of snakes makes better sandwiches for the kids for the rest of the week as leftovers than a turkey ever could.  If Edward Bernays could dupe the American public into believing “bacon and eggs” was a hearty/healthy breakfast to help the pork industry sell more bacon in 1920’s, then I will create my own catch phrase by replacing it with “kitty and eggs”, or Thanksgiving Golden Retriever.  If you’re good at BBQ, you can make a cow patty taste like hickory flavored heaven, and sell like hotcakes.  Some may say that I’m just swapping one species for another and that soon it’ll just be a holocaust for some other creatures.  For one, the turkey and swine are mass bred for feeding.  These creatures aren’t roaming around whilly nilly cat calling on a fence because somebody was allergic to them or gasping for air out some guys asshole cause he likes it when gerbils squirm; they are kept in a confined area before being hacked up with surgical precision and efficiency.  In addition, the continued breeding of these turkeys and swine has to be thinning out their DNA pool leaving a massive amount of inbred and retarded turkeys that you are eating, probably resulting in your own retardation.  Secondly, I am doing a public service by cleaning up the streets of unwanted animals that might get adopted, but would more than likely get the gas chamber.  So, you’re welcome.  It’s like hunting.  They have a hunting season so that the deer population doesn’t explode and every ¼ mile that you drive you and your baby are risking head first-ing it through the windshield cause they are like flies on Haitian kid’s dick.  My holocaust of the unwanted house pets and strays is one of mercy and bounty.  Mercy for them to alleviate their suffering and bounty because millions of citizens will have warm, gravy smothered hamsters, gerbils, cats, dogs, snakes, mongooses, rabbits,  and goldfishes to eat.  So if you start seeing commercials with happy smiling children chowing down on cranberry sauce and calico kittens just know that it’s for a good cause.  It’s okay….they’re delicious.  I promise.