delicioustacos

Wild Kingdom

Fucking flies all over me, in my house. And ants who come in seeking water. It’s a hundred and eight degrees and I’ve left some chicken bones in the trash and instantaneously dozens of flies appear; swirling around the kitchen like that witch woman’s planetary machine in THE DARK CRYSTAL. What the fuck are those things called. Something-ary. Anyway, like one of those things. Throw away the chicken and immediately, flies. Their life cycle is so short– born, maggot, fly, fuck, shit die. Do they even eat as adults, or do they just look for a place to lay eggs. They’re dying of natural causes now and the chicken bones have only been in there for three days. I am forced to contemplate the fleeting nature of life. Fucking flies.

Born, baby, eat, adult, fuck, shit, die. In the span of geological time our lives are three days long; we’re born in a trash can eating a chicken bone, we fuck and make a baby once or twice if we’re lucky, and we fucking die glued to the window, trying to get out into the sun. We just want to die outside. Continue reading →

Tags: mitt romney

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Winston Churchill's Dick

A Thing That Booze Makes You Stop thinking

13 Sep

What if she texts you the next day before you even get out of bed and says “I just want you to know that I had a REALLY great time last night– let me know when you want to hang! ” And then later that same day– “Dinner? ” And so on and then like four days later “I think I might be having a problem with my phone- some people aren’t getting my txts– are u doing anything 2night? ” What if you didn’t pull out and in the back of your mind all day at work you are just thinking about having a stupid baby with this person, having to talk to her every day for eighteen years; you just want to text her to see if she got her period but you know any contact is gonna be met with fifteen thousand prompts to do something with this humorless and semiliterate person. Who looked kind of like Emily Blunt when you were drunk but when you woke up it became clear that she had that weird bad skin where the makeup they use to cover up the bad skin gets trapped in the craters and on the protuberances and thickly coats the weird fine downy hairs all over her face; her gums are far too large and vividly purple for her small teeth, and yet she feels no compunction whatsoever about smiling with her top lip all the way up by her nostrils like the giraffe at the zoo that constantly reaches for the eucalyptus branch that is hanging just outside the bars of its cage… any person with any degree of self awareness who had ever once smiled in a mirror would have immediately taken rigorous steps to train themselves to smile while leaving their generous top lip draped over these fifteen thousand miles of veiny grape Hubba Bubba colored gums… why is her mouth the same color inside as that of a black German Shepherd; shouldn’t the inside of everyone’s mouth be the same color… must be these weird Mexican chicks with their Aztec blood… but anyway, that’s the real problem. Not that she has these minor physical drawbacks but that she’s the sort of person who never even notices them, even though everyone else does instantly and they are appalled. God forbid I have impregnated this woman and the resulting offspring inherits this subhuman level of self-examination. This person smiles like a dog drags its gross pussy and ass across the rug in front of company for sexual gratification. Just go home and go to bed for Christ’s sake.

Tags: giraffes, gums

Comments 5 Comments
Categories Women

Art Tuesday: Cities of Ref Splooge (NSFW)

11 Sep

Someone was talking about “Cities of Refuge,” apparently an old Hebrew tradition where if you killed someone and sought sanctuary in certain towns, vengeance seekers couldn’t come get you. Continue reading →

Tags: fine art

Comments 11 Comments
Categories Winston Churchill's Dick

Dear (REDACTED),

11 Sep

Having you as a girlfriend would be like having a wolverine as a pet. I don’t want you as a girlfriend. I would rather have a lamprey as a fleshlight than have you as a girlfriend.

But goddamit, I also do want you as a girlfriend. In that little place where, you know, most chicks don’t stick with you; you go on a couple dates with them, maybe you fuck them a few times, but you don’t wake up on your couch with your boner going into your pillow and think for just a second that you’re waking up next to them. And it’s the sweetest second of your life. That little place, where like, that cute chick from work that you IM with all day, and when she says that she had a fight with her boyfriend your heart kind of gets ahead of your mind and you get a headrush for a second. And then the next day she says they got back together and it’s like your dog died. And your eyes tear up a little. You can’t help it. Probably if she saw it she would think you’re a fucking chump, because, you know, nothing earns a woman’s contempt like being into her.

I don’t know what it is. You are a ridiculous wastrel who is probably a decade away from being done fucking boys in bands. But still.

Tags: lamprey as a fleshlight

Comments 11 Comments
Categories Women

Lunch Break Diary: An Attractive Woman Sits Near Me

10 Sep

There is an attractive woman sitting across from me. A very attractive woman. A “9,” in the parlance of those people who use numbers for these things. An “L.A. 9.”

She looks familiar. I feel like she was the casting assistant on some movie I worked on. It is completely plausible that such a person would be sitting across from me on that bench. But if it is her, she doesn’t recognize me, or doesn’t want to acknowledge me. Maybe it’s not even her though. All good looking people essentially look alike. All perfect looking people.

I would never in a billion years go over and talk to this person. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea of what to say, aside from some obviously fabricated ruse that was just basically– I think you are good looking, and I would like to have sex with you. There is no other reason on the planet anyone would ever speak to anyone out of nowhere, except maybe abject loneliness. And yet here I am. I am thinking about her. I am writing in my stupid journal about her; she is looking at her phone and eating a ham sandwich. On wheat bread, with lettuce peeking out from the crusts. Homemade sandwich. Someone made her this sandwich, or she conscientiously packed it for herself. Good for her. More people should take the time and care to prepare their own meals. It’s good for your health, it’s exactly to your tastes, and it saves money.
Continue reading →

Tags: ham sandwich

Comments 10 Comments
Categories Lunch Break Diary, Women

Relax, It Doesn’t Matter Who’s President

8 Sep

Your taxes are not going to go up or down. And if they do, who gives a shit. It won’t be a meaningful amount. You are not barely hanging on by the amount that your taxes will increase. You are not going to get some windfall by the amount your taxes will decrease. They are not going to up the taxes enough that the debt and deficit are lowered meaningfully, nor are they going to lower them so that the debt and deficit are raised meaningfully. All that shit, the money shit, is going to stay pretty much exactly the same.

If you can get an abortion now, you will still be able to get an abortion. If you live in North Dakota, you will have to drive very far to get an abortion. But you already have to drive very far to get an abortion. You have to drive across the equivalent of France to get a fuel filter for a Japanese car, or a burrito. If you live in North Dakota, you probably do not need or want or would consider having an abortion. Why is it such a big fucking deal, the five abortions performed annually in North Dakota. Or in Mississippi– when have you ever heard of someone getting pregnant in Mississippi, and no matter how young they were, how poor, no matter how abusive and drunk the father is, how many babies he already has with thirty other women, how much chromosome damage the baby was going to have from the mother pounding from whatever clay jug labeled “XXX” they drink from in Mississippi– when was the last time you ever heard of someone getting pregnant in Mississippi and not keeping the baby. Any state considering outlawing abortion is an entire state of Honey Boo Boo. Every birth is from statutory rape by a multiple convict, and every six fingered IQ 80 baby is considered a huge blessing from Jesus where you wouldn’t even think about terminating the pregnancy. Why do we argue so much about this. Continue reading →

Tags: abortion, barack obama, insurance, mitt romney, my penis, obamacare

Comments 5 Comments
Categories Rants

Any Fun Plans for the Weekend?

7 Sep

I’m gonna fuck a goat and set a school on fire. I’m gonna inject my wang with saline so it’s nine inches long and four inches wide and then run naked through a church service. I’m gonna eat a Volvo 240 station wagon and shit out a perfectly sculpted steel statue of Minnie Pearl fully nude delivering an infant Kenny Rogers while forest creatures look on in awe. I’m gonna grow six extra tits and suckle a pack of needy orphans. I’m gonna huff household cleaning products ’till my eyes look like an albino rabbit and take a journey that is at once within myself and also to the outermost reaches of the cosmos. It will last a lifetime but when I look at my watch only seconds will have passed.

Tags: household cleaning products, kenny motherfucking rogers

Comments 5 Comments
Categories Kenny Rogers, Winston Churchill's Dick

To the Only Girl I Wanted to Message Me Back

5 Sep

(Previously).

I feel bad now. I was genuinely moved by your blog post about the ass speculum. Or rather, the vaginal speculum, not intended for use in the ass, being inserted into your ass so another performer could spit jizz she had just sucked out of a guy’s huge dick, which had been primed to ejaculation by fucking you in the ass, back into your ass, whence you would drip it into a cup and she and you would drink it from a straw. Or something. Frankly the chain of events was a little difficult to follow but I understood the larger point that you showed up thinking you were gonna do a 3 way with a guy and a chick and get fucked in the asshole as part of it but were presented, without foreknowledge, with a gigantic plexiglass spreading tool and told you would have to have it open and abrade your asshole in the “piledriver” position. Then get fucked in the ass with your rectum torn and bloody and ragged from this thing. It sounds horrible, and you should have walked away, but you did it anyway, out of fear you wouldn’t be able to work again if you said no. I’m sorry that happened to you. Continue reading →

Tags: h.r. giger, specula