we still have the mountains and the hummingbirds. Or a good drink and a good fuck. Even a good shit and a good jerk. Try as you might, you cannot escape small pleasures. The flowers please you in spite of yourself, as you walk down the street muttering. Despairing over no text message from some girl you’d get tired of if she texted you back. Worrying about work. The clouds look painterly at sunset every god damn day and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Even if you shut the blinds the magic hour light leaks through. A baby smiles at you in the checkout line. Sees something in your eyes. It was not lost.
Archive | Winston Churchill’s Dick RSS feed for this section
Site News: World Domination
12 Jul
In case you give a shit, this web site crossed half a million views today. Per the above map, it has been viewed in basically every country that a) has a computer and b) doesn’t tie you up and hook a car battery to your nuts for looking at the internet.
This brings me happiness. Thank you all for reading. Especially you, Swaziland. New Guinea– take a break from customizing your penis gourd and please take a look.
Now on to a sobering economic reality. If I had been running ads on this site, assuming a CPM of 1– the most generous estimate possible for a site whose number one search term is “horse fucking–” I would have netted $500 before taxes. About 50 cents an hour. I know this seems like a king’s ransom to some of you folks on the map, but to the rest of you: it is virtually impossible to make money with a “creative” blog and it’s only gonna get worse. So if it’s your dream to make a living doing this, let me piss all over that for you. Also, your mom did not actually send your dog to a farm where there are lots of other dogs and endless room to run around. She killed him. Probably shot him right in the face. Then she stood over his twitching, tortured carcass and laughed thinking of your bitter tears. Maybe she even shat in his wound, I don’t know. Seems like the kind of thing your mom would do.
It won’t make you money, but it can get you laid. Shocking amounts of laid with shockingly little effort, as long as you don’t count hundreds of hours coming up with hundreds of thousands of words as “effort.” And as long as like five girls counts as “shocking amounts of laid.” But it does for me– I mean, I write about stealing girl’s sweaty panties and sniffing them while I jerk it at the end of a coke binge. Strange women email me saying “let’s fuck,” and I send them my address, and they show up nice and musky and they leave their salty chonies behind knowing I will be wearing them as a Bane mask that weekend. I hadn’t expected that to happen once, much less several times. The world is a darker, weirder place than you’ve been led to believe.
Anyway. Onward and downward.
Reader Mailbag: How to Propose
10 Jul
image stolen from sodahead.com
“Andres” writes:
: hello um im going to propose to my gf soon and am looking for any creative ideas on how to do it if you have any suggestions.
Don’t get married. Every married person I know completely hates their relationship and is miserable. Single people are miserable too but married people have this thing that focuses all their hatred. They all feel completely trapped, like their lives are over. Every single one of them cheats. Your wife will cheat on you. You will cheat on your wife, but not nearly as much, because you’ll have to work for it. Continue reading
Nofap Diary
2 Jul
image stolen from echoparknow.com
A gentleman by the name of Lawdogger recently gave up masturbating for 165 days. This inspired me to revisit nofapping and attempt to match his insane feat. What follows are my results:
Day 1: OK, I can handle this. Not so bad. I’m slightly more irritable. Snapped at my landlady when she asked where the rent was. Noticing that the girl who works afternoons at the coffee shop has puffy nipples through her sheer top. How had I not seen that before. Normally I would head home and search “puffy nipple porn” and choke the chicken, but… let’s read a good book instead.
Day 2: Woman across from me on the bus was wearing a skirt. She was sitting under the air conditioning vent, and the air kept blowing the skirt almost but not quite far up enough to see her panties. I couldn’t look away. The bus hit a bump and I saw my reflection in the window. My face looked like Private Pyle right before he blows away Gunnery Sergeant Hartman. Need to buy a pair of sunglasses. Continue reading
Facebook White Trash-off
14 Jun
Nikol and I invented a sport where we battle with our families’ facebook statuses to see who’s bigger white trash.
When my cousin was told by her pastor that facebook was the devil’s work and left, I thought my career was over. No more would I see a picture of an Orang Utan palming its face accompanied by a quote from Ecclisiastes. But my other cousin who became a grandmother at 28 stepped up:
ROUND 1
The Haslers
Welp…the kids and I have been doin’ yard pickup…while as usual the hub has been in his usual place on the couch tipping his best friend and favorite beverage back. I’ve had enough of him, his lies, his tipping back…if he does not make changes in a week, I see him on his own and the kiddos and me making a whole new world for ourselves. Enough is enough, yep I keep it real and that’s where I’m at; any questions
The Tacos
for all you nosey no life of ur own idiots that live on here to gossip… i was set up last night and refused to sell people out so i was arrested. the charges are crap and from my stand point if you have nothing better to do then recommend trash and post it about me then go fuck yourselves and each other !!!!!!! too bad you have nothing better to do or to worry about. but god dont like ugly and neither do i so best of luck to you all. this karma will bite your asses…. i promise2 people like this.
(REDACTED) You go girl! People need to mind there own fucken business and worry about the shit in their own back yard…. To everyone out there remember the saying “If you aint got anything good to say, dont say anything at all” And another thing (REDACTED) is innocent un-till proven guilty….
Suggestion Box
13 Jun
I know, I know. I haven’t posted in five days.
I’m not dead. I am simply out of ideas. I have been living a clean and productive life, which means I think and feel nothing.
If you have ideas you would like to see fleshed out in an essay filled with the word “fuck,” or if you want advice from broke, unemployed person incapable of human relationships, or if you have a short story idea or something, please post in the comments or email me from the “Contact” sidebar.
Otherwise normal programming will resume as soon as I relapse into whoring and hard drug abuse.
Waiting Room Diary: The Dancing with the AIDS Results Show
7 JunNo they won’t, liar
I’m in the waiting room. Waiting to get my STD test results. The clinic door is open to Echo Park Avenue and someone is blasting Eminem at the stop light. Shut the fuck up, Eminem. Can’t you see I have AIDS?
I have AIDS and herpes and syphilis and HPV and gonorrhea and chlamydia and non gonococcal urethritis (unspecified) and hepatitis C and probably A, B, and D through J as well, and dick cancer and brain damaging spirochetes and crabs and whateverthefuck else, I must have it all. My appointment was for 3:30 but they flat out told me to come late, that’s when the doctor takes lunch. Why did I come at 3:30. I am a fucking idiot. I should have stayed home where there’s youtube videos to distract me and not just this blank document and my gnawing thoughts of all the dick eating infections I have. All the people I’ve killed, girls I fucked whose ovaries will get chewed into dust because of me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, whateverthefuck your name is. The Chinese chick with the purple toenail polish. You didn’t deserve this. Continue reading
Survey Says…
5 Jun
I get my STD test results tomorrow. I’m such an old hack at this that I feel no fear. Used to be, I’m sure you know the feeling– you go over and over in your head all the filthy holes you plumbed with your scabrous open cut laden dick, all the men these girls had been with that you’ve now been with too. They give you that demonstration the first week of college– they bring tons of people onstage to show that you’re fucking everyone who the person you’re fucking fucked and whoever those people fucked and etc. Then when you’re finally with a girl, if your dick goes in a millimeter past the condom ring you feel like you tripped and landed on the button that launches the nukes. Years go by and, tentatively at first, you begin rawdogging in the morning when you’ve been grinding each other naked all night. And you are stunned. You learn that what you were doing with condoms isn’t fucking at all, more like a puppet show about fucking. Later you get to the point where you’re rawdogging everyone all the time. The type of girl you pick up in an afterhours party at a freeway underpass. You would rawdog hookers if they’d let you. You even ask them. You just stop giving a shit. Continue reading
New Book
delicioustacos 