First, and foremost, a note to the powers that be here in this fine playground of asking and receiving, I don’t fucking work Wednesdays. I’m like Rainman without the ability or horse toothed brother, and I need my routine. It's early and I'm pissed.Speaking of horses (see what I did just there?) The troll report is a blog that has a lot of fucking pictures of horses. An awful lot of pictures of horses, and yet not one single farmgirl sucking on one. Well now, isn't that just delightful?
I’ll be straight up, I don’t get horses unless their names are on my betting slip and beardy Mary is counting out my winnings. I also don’t get the frequent use of CAPITALS everywhere and anywhere. I most certainly don’t get the MUTE MONDAYS, and the TROLL POLLS are dull acts of anal gazing and are flogged to death on that blog.
Somewhere about 20% of the time you throw out an opinion or two but always in a shouty arm waving won’t sit the hell down and give me a chance to ram the needle into your neck kind of way. I can’t be dealing with that.
I’m the wrong person to review this, that’s for sure, I don’t get it, I don’t like it, and the instant I looked at it I knew deep down in my spunk filled belly that I won’t be going back.
I’m not a complete prick so I will give you credit for entertaining and engaging your own audience, who I pray to sweet adorable Jesus I never ever have to meet, and I give you kudos for irritating me. That’s not easy.
A star for being an annoying and antagonising blogger, that's half the battle I suppose...
...and a shut the fuck up for everything else until I can click the fuck away.
I liked the stock image of the space chick. She was kinda slutty in a futuristic kind of way.
ReplyDeleteI would have given 'Chef Troll' an 'I Fucking Love You' for giving himself that moniker and never mentioning being a chef. Sadly, I suspect it is only a case of wishing he was correctly spelling the word 'Chief' and that he could be in charge of something other than that thing he is calling a blog.
ReplyDeleteOh, and this:
ReplyDelete"...and I give you kudos for irritating me. That's not easy."
Um, Big Daddy Gene? I think you might still be overly exhausted from spending the weekend with our stud horse, because that simply does not make one bit of sense.
He had a bottle of Peroni in one shot. I hate Peroni.
ReplyDeleteI'm guessing that your irritation hasn't yet abated, Gene?
ReplyDeleteIt's the part about you not being easily irritated, Big Daddy. I just don't see it that way.
ReplyDeleteOh, and I accidently read 'flowchart' as 'blowchart'. Sorry, I must still be thinking of those photos we have from your weekend with our stud horse.
You, woman, if I have to take the inability of dozy fuckers to read what's in front of them into account, then we might as well all just piss off.
ReplyDeleteNutjobber, no.
Oh, don't go gettin' all jacked up and off the hook, Big Daddy.
ReplyDeleteI'm just trying to have a little bit of fun. Trying to lighten things up, seeing as you had to wade through that load of shit called a blog today.
Also? That thing about 'farmgirl sucking on one' when it comes to horses? People bring that shit up from time to time and always make some kind of lame ass statement about feeling sorry for the girl.
Me? I'm always thinking, "Sorry for the girl? What about my poor fuckin' horse, you bitch?"
I always keep a close eye on people who bring that shit up. Suffice it to say they are not allowed in our barn with out supervision.
I don't ever feel sorry for horse suckers, just horse owners.
ReplyDeleteOh Pookie...there you go again, saying something kind of irritable.
ReplyDeleteAlso, you said 'spunk filled belly'. Haha.
ReplyDeleteI don't know Father, from the quality of the review, I would have to say you work really well on Wednesdays. After Wednesday night boys "choir practice", you come into work on Thursday way too relaxed.
ReplyDeleteSeriously, I don't ever think I've been this disgusted by a blog before.
ReplyDeleteArgh. I haven't been hear in ages, and I'd finally just managed to get all the spunk off my shoes from last time. So, I saw flamingos, and I think I saw shrimp? I'm not sure if they're related to the bloggy content or just for funsies, but the pretty pictures are the best part. He starts talking about liberal left-wingers and environmental whatever and I am out like a paid hooker, dude. Because I just don't fucking care.
ReplyDeleteIt's all disgruntled up in Ask-land today.
ReplyDeleteOh, Thank the holy and benevolent overlord of all things that I missed the kumbaya.
ReplyDeleteSo, Rass, you don't like this guy?
ReplyDeleteLike the troll pic at the top. That's it. Pics to fill up blog space and yes, in agreement of RANDOM CAPS usage... annoying blog at best.
ReplyDeleteFor rating, would have been appropriate to give horse's ass shot. Perhaps defecating.
This is going to be a great day.
ReplyDeleteThe only thing in life that I hate?
ReplyDeleteHaters.
I am a walking emotional contradiction.
Eh, Rassles, that like how I always bully the bully.
ReplyDeleteI hate haters too.
It's a gift.
Being a bully bully is so gratifying.
ReplyDeleteLike Batman.
You know what else I hate? Man eating cats. Banjo-pickin hillbillies. People that lose their keyboards.
ReplyDeleteOh, and cups full of drunk's piss.
ReplyDeleteGok, should I be worried that from miles away, I can just see your wheels spinning?
ReplyDeleteGeez, you got it out before I could even comment on you upcoming comments.
ReplyDeleteActually it was a urinal full of drunk's piss.
ReplyDeleteBut who am I to nitpick?
Look at GoK go.
Oh look it's Wednesday. It's like the anniversary of the reaming.
Rassles, you might want to cover your eyes honey.
ReplyDeleteNo need to worry, Miss. That's the sound of a musclecar named Hate and Vengeance.
ReplyDeleteRassles likes the voice of watts. So, do I let it all out here, or should I save some for the ugly sacrifice?
ReplyDeleteNJ- I think of you more like Dr. Manhattan, you know,lots of full frontal swinging a giant glowing blue cock around.
ReplyDeleteYou win.
ReplyDeleteWait, maybe that's Sci-Fi dad I'm thinking of.
ReplyDeleteDr. Manjobber?
ReplyDeleteI like Batman.
ReplyDeleteIn fear of coming across as a leftist maggot, today's blogger is a vile pig.
Sorry, I was out putting the finishing touches on a large wooden cross.
ReplyDeleteI want to be an ill tempered version of me.
Man, there's "leftist" and there's "reasonable"... today's blog is the cyber-equivalent of getting screamed at outside an abortion-clinic.
ReplyDeleteI live in the land of Fred Phelps.
ReplyDeleteEnough said.
I know, elephant, it's not like this room is THAT big.
ReplyDeleteGhost, I can feel you vibrating from here. That is you, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteUh oh.
GoK - It's almost as if she hasn't taken a single peek at this blog in the last week.
ReplyDeleteToday, I really feel like a Windex Sales Rep in a glass neighborhood.
ReplyDeleteWhere is my rainslicker? This might get messy.
ReplyDeleteOh, I'm more than certain DC eyes have been all over Ask this week.
ReplyDeleteMy dear children, please find a comfortable spot behind a large wall.
I'm glad I'm feeling better, so I can enjoy this. You know, I was into that sort of thing.
ReplyDeleteStrangely, it seems as if it's going no where there.
So much anticipation.
Kind of like man on man vampire erotica.
ReplyDeleteBut she's not even playing.
ReplyDeleteThat's bullshit.
Ooh, and I want to be a superhero/villan! Can I be Poison Ivy?
You know when you tailgate before the big game.
ReplyDeleteBut you're so damn excited you get to the parking lot really early and it's a little cold out.
So you end up drinking twice as much beer as you planned because you're bored and cold.
And then by the time game happens, you're passed out, hanging out of the front seat of your car, with a puddle of vomit under your head?
And then you wake up and try to make your way to the stadium, but you end up rolling down a hill and end up laying next to the portapotty for the duration of the game until your friends find you and laugh at you and call you ass face all the way home?
This? Feels like that.
Dearest Elephant,
ReplyDeleteI see you, and I'm tending to you. Now. When I was in college, I had a roommate. He worked at a wonderful restaurant near Fayetteville, Arkansas. This restaurant was well known for flavorful recipes and enticing appetizers. One such appetizer, the Flaming Queso, was one of the more popular appetizers. Basically, the waiter brought out a a dish on fire. It was very tasty, and the fire was pretty badass. Sadly, after the flame went out, you were left with cold cheese. Elephant, you are the author's equivalent to a Flaming Queso. At first, you are all 'look at me, look at me, I'm on fire, I'm wild and crazy' then well, you're all out of spark.
I would rather my exwife beat me over the head with and Edward Cullen poster, bound and gagged, with my entire family watching and throwing rocks and dirty needles at my naked body than give you any hint of approval. Go away, Watts, go far away.
Oh, and the comment thingie? Pathetic. Just pathetic. Why bother? Just more Flaming Queso. Thanks for nothing. I'm sending you a small cactus. Go fuck yourself with it.
And I'm not done, I'm just feeding the wolves so they stick around for the frenzy.
So I just woke up with my head next to the portapotty.
ReplyDeleteAnd the game is over.
And my friends are calling me ass face.
Good game, good game.
Assface.
ReplyDeleteIt's okay, Rassles.
ReplyDeleteBatman is dark and brooding.
Batman is not funny.
Maybe we should just ask the elephant.
ReplyDeleteI don't think I've ever right out said I hate a blog on here, but I hate this one. It's not nice to make horse people look stupid. The review was great.
ReplyDeleteHowever, I do disagree with one bootilicious point. It is so easy to irritate you, dude. You just have to know which buttons to push.
Oh and by the way, I'm fine with full frontals of awesome looking men, but that big blue penis for almost three hours just totally freaked me out!
ReplyDeleteI would be sad if the wrong elephant was tranquilized and stunned.
ReplyDelete"Also, the forced 'look at me, I need to fuck stuff, I should go fuck stuff, did you know I like to fuck stuff' bit is tired."
ReplyDelete-Ghost
Hold, totally just wet myself.
Seriously?
I would too, Tits, if I actually gave a shit about elephants.
ReplyDeleteTits: I guess it has a different effect when I say it.
It was pretty much the funniest thing that a black pot ever said to a kettle, Ghost.
ReplyDeleteRegardless of whether it's organic or pumped more full of steroids than A-Rod.
ReplyDeleteThe irony was righteous.
Thanks for clearing that up, Miss M.
ReplyDeleteTits, my day of playing nice was yesterday.
Wow. I'm not sure what I missed, but it must have been a doozy.
ReplyDeleteI can see the pent up frustration from yesterday is over-flowing.
ReplyDeleteGhost, I take enough of your shit that I can dish it back just every once in a while.
I like it when you dish back.
ReplyDeleteHow on earth did that innocent comment get me out of a sex party? Ghost, I used to read your blog regularly, and I really liked it. But then you and a few others from here had to go all snotty and private. Actually, that was when I realized I would never be invited to your parties.
ReplyDeleteOh hell, you don't think I meant "horse people" like THAT, do you?
Angel, I was just trying to save you. I have a gallon of blue paint at home and didn't want you to get all mad when you notice everyone is running around with blue genitalia.
ReplyDeleteAlso, you never emailed me for an invite.
ReplyDeleteAnd another thing:
ReplyDeleteI went private to gain some privacy from some of the locals, not to alienate my readers. I'm public again.
You paint your penis blue at your sex parties? Yes, that would freak me out, thank you for protecting me. But it's a different freak out. It was mesmorizing. I couldn't tell you a damn thing that happened in that movie after the first shot of the blue penis. So an entire party of them? Ok, what do I have to do to get an invite? (I'm not doing a horse)
ReplyDeleteI do understand the desire to not be found by locals. My blog is pretty innocent by most standards, but if my parents found it, they'd hold prayer vigils 24/7 for my soul. It would be bad.
My parents read my blog. I'm reminded constantly that they are praying for me.
ReplyDeleteTell me, what is it like to have parents that would pray for your soul and salvation?
ReplyDeleteI couldn't tell you the lengths that I would have to go to in order to shock my parents.
Well, it's not so bad now. Now I think they just read until they find a filthy word and then stop.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the review. Yes, you'd have to go back a ways to find much besides Mute Mondays and Troll Polls. Maybe I'd have received 2 stars, if you had.
ReplyDeleteNo idea what inspired the "hater" and "conservative" comments. I'm a Classical Liberal and all about the love.
The "needle in the neck" line was clever. I'm stealing it.
Again, thanks!
Chef (yes, i'm a C.E.C. and there are recipes and restaurant reviews and such in archives) Troll
Betsey, if it stopped at just the praying, it wouldn't be so bad. It's the crying and screaming and sacrificing of small animals that finally gets to you. And the public humiliations like, "Mr. So and So, have you met my daughter, Angel? She's a smart girl, but she's evil and sinful. We're trying so hard to keep her out of hell...". And the guilt! The guilt of all the worrying and sleepless nights I've put them through, blah blah blah. It gets old.
ReplyDeleteZing! BB, that was a good one.
ReplyDeleteThanks Rachie, I've been keister stashing that one.
ReplyDeleteHopefully you've been keister stashing brain cells as well, Tits.
ReplyDeleteI hated every minute of it too. To quote the doctor that delivered you:
ReplyDeleteYou aren't giving us much to work with here.
Too bad he was talking to your mother.
ReplyDeletePs, didn't know you came out feet first.
ReplyDeleteTits: I've always been curious, do they issue birth certificates at abortion clinics? Also, how long did it take you to grow enough hair to hide the coathanger?
ReplyDeleteReally? That's the route you're going to take?
ReplyDeleteCalling me a failed abortion?
I'll just ignore the fact that you completely are mixing insults here.
Did you mean to say that my mom went to an abortion clinic or that she tried to conduct a home abortion?
Even a clinic in 1977 wouldn't have used a coat hanger.
Abortion humor. Always a crowd pleaser.
Ignore it Tits, just like I ignored the 'yo momma' joke. You started the mixing. Why would my mother be present at your birth? Unless you were insinuating that we were delivered by the same doctor, on separate dates in separate states. You started the mixing, I'm just going with the flow.
ReplyDeleteIf you had gone with the flow, your mother would have flushed you.
ReplyDeleteYes, Tits, I won't argue with gravity.
ReplyDeleteSeeing his love for horses has just taken me on an interesting Wikipedia excursion of looking up Secretariat, SeaBiscuit and Man o War. For that, I'm grateful.
ReplyDeleteThe rest of it I just couldn't understand. Maybe I'm simple but all this troll polling shit is too far for me.
Even his homage to Secretariat had to be corrupted with non-sensical rambling bullshit about imagery cell phones, PCP and crazy hippies.
Speaking of 'flow', did you know that when I escaped the womb, I crushed my mother's pelvis? She had to use a catheter for like two months. I found this out five years ago, at an Outback Steakhouse. My ex wife, newborn son, and I were having a lovely dinner with Mother Mary, and out of nowhere, she laid that out. I ate my steak anyhow.
ReplyDeleteI did a tribute speech for Secretariat in junior high public speaking.
ReplyDeleteGood call, Ghost, I argued with gravity once. Cost me $6000.
ReplyDeleteTits: I'm looking at you and thinking you actually won the argument.
ReplyDeleteCould be.
ReplyDeleteRass: my sixth grade science project was 'The Effects of Alcohol on the Human Brain'. I got my dad drunk and quizzed him about shit he wouldn't know anything about. I didn't win any awards that year, but my dad got hammered. I miss my catholic school days.
ReplyDeleteAngel, always nice to meet another evangelical whose parents have been attempting brain-fuckery their whole lives. We should all organize a day trip to the Creation museum. Rassles could come for anthropological purposes. Then we could go to Key's house and break at least half of the ten commandments with a can of blue paint.
ReplyDeleteThen we could burn in eternal damnation.
Seriously, I think I've done a lot to improve the publics' perception of Eternal Damnation.
ReplyDeleteRassles - Did the speech mention the size of his fabled heart?
ReplyDeleteHe was more than head, heart, and hooves, my friend.
ReplyDeleteA girl streaked across the track for him after he ran the Belmont. That's nuts.
Chicks will do anything for Big Red
ReplyDeleteGeez. Disappear for a few and discover you're an "elephant" how clever clever clever gok. Fuck you very much.
ReplyDeleteMaybe, just maybe I have a life beyond commenting here. I enjoy some of the banter. Some of the reviews are good. Some of the commenters are entertaining. You however suck pustulated donkey ass. And I say that with much love.
I write erotica. You don't like it? Don't read it. However, it does lovely things for paying my bills.
Which bill, exactly, does it pay? The water bill? Keep telling yourself whatever you need to stomach your 'life'. Which, if you did have one, you wouldn't have time to go around fucking with our regulars.
ReplyDeleteSorry - I was impeded by ultrasound/dinner (which, for clarification, were two seperate events).
ReplyDeleteSo, what'd I miss?
Oh. I see.
ReplyDelete