tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57340634050979773172012-02-02T11:28:16.250-05:00I Can't Believe How Funky I am. But not as funky as Porn.Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.comBlogger3711100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-76866421479113240982012-01-23T08:15:00.001-05:002012-01-23T08:15:57.736-05:00

I don't know if  I've ever used this one, So although it has little... nigh nothing to do with this post, here is a  naked unicorn girl with some pals. You're welcome So maybe when you think of me, you say to yourself "Mmm. I really gotta get me some of THAT!" and then you grind up on a tree or a bird feeder or a small kid or something and while that may not be inexplicable, it is probably

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-54102600778934862622012-01-11T14:11:00.000-05:002012-01-11T14:11:19.837-05:00

HAHAHAHAHA! Look how self-important I am! Like anyone in the goddamn universe would ever give a shit. Hey, I know your lives ground to a halt when I stopped writing so often, but hopefully by now you've found some other coping mechanism. According to top sources I just polled who are my cat, people have better things to do then worry about whether or not I'm going to write my fart-huffing

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-53975028704882997552011-09-06T07:50:00.004-04:002011-09-06T08:10:13.512-04:00

The Boys are Back in Town! Boys are Back in Tow-ow-ow-owwwwn!Maybe you are thinking "Kurt, the handsomest scoundrel on the Internet hasn't posted in a really long time, I wonder what he is up to and if he is single." Well, I am NOT single, because I will always have my cat and that cat loves the shit out of me. Also, I still have Beautiful Treasure and she thinks I'm alright when I remember to

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-38309004941802233092011-08-04T03:00:00.002-04:002011-08-04T03:00:07.305-04:00

There comes a time in every man's life when he has to stop and take a step back from himself and decide if the path he has chosen is the one that will bring the most joy to both himself and the world around him. There also comes a time when he has to decide if he has sucked all the flavor out of the grape jelly stain on the front of his bathrobe and another time when he tries to remember if the

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-84576538786102272332011-06-19T12:04:00.000-04:002011-06-19T14:36:27.786-04:00

Hey! My tits are down there!Everyone gets all crazy for Father's Day, and they start foaming at the keyboard and patting themselves on the back for how incredibly witty they are to notice that the gifts you get from your kids are atrocious or how hysterical it is that they served you a wet sock and a pile of cat crap for your breakfast in bed or whatever. I'm done with it. Father's Day is a fine

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-33078152356973470252011-04-04T12:10:00.001-04:002011-04-04T12:10:31.943-04:00

Maybe if you got a call from your ex-wife and she asked you to take your daughter to the gynecologist you would be frightened, but we can't ALL be handsome, genius daredevils or else it wouldn't be so very, very special that I was one. So I picked up my daughter from school after an awkward walking in to see if I had to sign anything and then looking around to make sure none of my daughter's

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-35883275052480623562011-03-14T09:00:00.001-04:002011-03-14T09:00:13.967-04:00

When I renamed this I called it "Rock Paper Weiner". (*checks front door for award presenters*)I woke up this morning wondering what this year's Sex Sunday sermon would be about, now that Lent is upon us and we are supposed to be celebrating the head of our faith being executed in the desert a billion years ago or whatever. And my first thought was maybe they would do dildos and vibrators this

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-24159590934348504142011-02-23T23:00:00.002-05:002011-02-24T07:39:40.675-05:00

Dear New Kitten,Look asshole. Let's get a couple of things straight. You are the new thing living in my home and I believe very firmly in a "last in, first out" policy when it comes to killing members of my family, and I'm totally not buying the adorable running around and batting playfully at things bit, so just knock it off. You won't make any friends that way, douchebag. You want to endear

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-8643417437619206422011-02-14T09:01:00.001-05:002011-02-14T09:01:00.082-05:00

Valentine's Day. I know, right? Bitches be trippin', yo! (*checks copyright date on Slang Dictionary*) Well, I'm not going to write about bitches bein' trippin' or whatever because according to my research, ladies don't like being referred to as "bitches" except for by that one friend they have who is too loud and pre-drunk before they go out dancing in a group or whatever. I don't know. The "

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-86379171104403073412011-02-02T07:50:00.000-05:002011-02-02T07:53:06.425-05:00

There are a lot of people in this world who think that they are special and I would be the first to point out that I am one of them. I would also be the first to point out that I am right, and then I would be the first to point out that I have roguishly handsome good looks, and then I would be the first to point at my junk and make a couple pelvic thrusts and clear my throat and wink so much that

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-4278450133156030892011-01-31T09:30:00.001-05:002011-01-31T09:45:35.265-05:00

Maybe you think that spending the weekend on the couch drifting between naps and watching every episode of "River Monsters" you can find is a waste of time, but when you are a sexy adventurer like me, having some "pants optional" downtime is just what the doctor ordered and by "doctor" I mean "porn star I have imaginary conversations with as she strips and lathers up."This is the River Monster I

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-88018192943981378292011-01-24T08:00:00.001-05:002011-01-24T08:03:33.457-05:00

HAHAHAHAHA! Cats don't wear helmets! Classic.I'm a fan of football in the same way as I am a fan of porn with fisting in it. I know it's out there and given the opportunity, I'll watch it. Oh believe me....I'll watch it. But it just doesn't grab my attention the way it "supposed to" according to the guys who used to give me swirlies in the bathroom in Jr. High but are now bald and fat and drink

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-5060401010285800852011-01-18T08:00:00.005-05:002011-01-18T08:00:01.056-05:00

Dear Genius Beyond His Years,Thank you so much for your wonderful comment yesterday that enlightened me and totally didn't de-rail my boring post about cats and Hogwarts or whatever. Who even cares! We have the entire population of American Women to discriminate against and that takes time. All these lonely peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and tears as I sit around my cold, dark and empty

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-9159864005228461162011-01-17T08:00:00.002-05:002011-01-17T08:00:16.210-05:00

So things have finally settled down a little bit for me and I can take a break from all the time I've been spending trying to perfect my Hans Gruber from Die Hard impression ("What is it that you say? Yippee Ki-yay-muttafuck.") to write some stuff that will undoubtably tickle your funnybone and touch your heart, or tickle your boner bone and touch your junk, or tickle your "I don't care." bone

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-48460469111445331122011-01-03T09:00:00.002-05:002011-01-03T09:00:00.256-05:00

So I decided to take December off because I was crazy at work and I figured I would just make a New Year's resolution to write more, because if history has taught me anything it's that the human body is very hard to kill without the proper tools, but if history has taught me two things it's that the human body is very hard to kill without the proper tools, and I totally stick to my New Year's

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-74030344918856028882010-12-03T09:00:00.003-05:002010-12-03T09:01:13.235-05:00

There are some things you should never start a post with and that includes the sentence I just thought of* while trying to decide how I was going write something that ultimately is just an excuse to show off an awesome penguin nativity scene I found. This led me to think about what it is exactly I bring to the proverbial table when it comes to Internet community contributions. The answer, as you

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-16523427648950372312010-11-29T07:50:00.000-05:002010-11-29T07:50:26.827-05:00

This is the kind of family Thanksgiving, I could get down with.Pandas fix everything.Maybe it's just the handsome in me that doesn't like to be around other people, or maybe it's that when I'm on vacation I don't like ever having to get out of this bathrobe, because I dare you to try and name another kind of clothing that is soft like a beach towel but still has pockets big enough to hold two

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-61771620728411369302010-11-24T07:40:00.003-05:002010-11-24T07:55:34.695-05:00

Dear Head Chief Grand Scout Eaglemaster or Whatever,I just wanted to thank you in the most sarcastic way possible for hosting a scout overnight at the local hockey arena. It seems that your willingness and desire to torture the adult volunteers has reached a new low. Now I know you like to tell people that parents chaperone these events to share with their children the rich history of scouting,

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-66295248867908190922010-11-16T11:00:00.002-05:002010-11-16T10:38:09.423-05:00

When I was growing up, back in the days before I was stunningly handsome and sure maybe I played too much D&D, and drank too much Mountain Dew, but those were wild times of no sex and no drugs and just enough rock-and-roll to make us think a Quiet Riot Iron-on was the same as a concert t-shirt, my friend's Dad had a saying. And that saying was "Sometimes you get the bear and sometimes the bear

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-88198536247112571372010-11-08T09:25:00.000-05:002010-11-08T09:25:01.180-05:00

So Beautiful Treasure went out of town this weekend to visit her family, and I couldn't go because of work, so that left Saturday night wide open for me and if you are picturing a montage of a night of drunken hijinks where I get picked up by my best buddy in his rag-top Chevy and we go peeling off down the road, drinking beer, and making bad decisions at a gentleman's club, all set to "The Boys

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-86495881258886877722010-11-05T09:00:00.002-04:002010-11-05T09:00:01.097-04:00

If I'm going to pander to the Internet, I might as well go all-in.I've decided that the place I work smells about 5% more like farts than non-farts, and that this is not a numerical value I am particularly comfortable with. Now don't get me wrong... I love my new job, and there are many excellent benefits to working here that they didn't tell me about, like being able to make a "battle suit" out

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-92143261628668347022010-11-01T09:00:00.006-04:002010-11-01T18:15:24.041-04:00

To Whom It May Concern;Hello. My name is Kurt, and that's all you need to know. It has come to my attention that your organization, The Itty Bitty Titty Committee, is a ladies-only club and that is so racist against men I can't even stand it. So in hopes of getting you to rectify this situation I have sent along a copy of my resume, which is at least 1/3 true by this point, a lucky rabbit's foot,

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-28933858284975404692010-10-11T07:40:00.000-04:002010-10-11T07:46:58.438-04:00

So pretty much the only reason I ever clean my house is because all the outrageous, orgiastic parties I have would make it impossible for CSI to find a killer if one ever visits me because of all the sexy body fluids that get splashed everywhere, and if there's one thing I can't abide by, it's justice not being served.* HAHAHAHAHA! Just kidding. No one would ever try to kill me. Even all my

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-53526981813709170132010-10-04T08:05:00.002-04:002010-10-04T08:12:58.113-04:00

This is what your period would look like if it was turned into an animal. Do you think it's a coincidence I choose a cat to personify it? Than you don't know me at all.I don't like to always write about periods, but I learned something really interesting this morning about you girls and your secretive lady-time and I wanted to share it with the world because I would rather teach a man to fish and

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-9150330688352450742010-09-27T06:02:00.002-04:002010-09-27T06:02:00.632-04:00

Dear Guy I Totally Just Impressed,Hi Bro! I wanted to start this letter off super-casual and friendly, because that's how I roll, yo. And even though when I sent you that last thank you email after you gave me my interview, I made a hysterical "your mom" joke, I think it's okay because we are such good buddies. See how I called you "bro" a few sentences ago? We ARE tight. Trust me on this one,

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-23721013546071823412010-09-23T08:50:00.000-04:002010-09-23T08:50:00.400-04:00

I'm going to try and be super delicate here, because maybe you don't know it but we are about to talk about a sensitive subject and reveal ancient secrets of maleness and if you don't like a certain word that start with the letter "c" and rhymes with "shunt", (hint: "cunt") than maybe peel off here and go read "Family Circus" or something. Those adorable roundheaded kids! What will they say next?

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-34949904998973390072010-09-20T06:05:00.003-04:002010-09-20T06:05:00.207-04:00

I think the phrase "Award-Winning Amateur Gynecologist" is the best descriptor of me that was ever invented and while some parts of it aren't entirely true, I think we can all agree that in our hearts and in our minds they are the truest words of all. They are so true that facts come over to those words' house and ask to borrow a cup of sugar and while the words are trying to figure out if they

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-76508528080947658752010-09-13T06:05:00.002-04:002010-09-13T06:05:00.103-04:00

Sometimes I spend long days contemplating the nature of man's inhumanity to man in the framework of certain socio-political trends that remain prevalent from the mid-portion of the 20th century. And other times I think about To Wong Foo Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar because while some people waste their lives not focusing on meaningless bullshit mid-90s bad movies, I think it is my duty to

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-78130885194808246182010-09-09T06:00:00.003-04:002010-09-09T06:24:27.377-04:00

So I'm totally starting a new review site and it's called The Roaring Dork*, and in it I'll be discussing whatever i've been watching and then telling you all my fascinating opinions and I know that sounds revolutionary, but I'd like you all to settle down because it's just the Internet.I should probably add a few caveats because I'm not ALWAYS going to be watching the movies I review and

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-20082277344388865002010-08-31T05:00:00.000-04:002010-08-31T05:13:49.358-04:00

Dear Old Man Coworker Who Will Probably Die Tomorrow,Look, Buddy. I get it. You hate that you've spent your whole life at this crappy dead-end job and that coming to work everyday is like choosing to sit through High School Musical again, even though you know how it ends and you totally wish Troy* would just go ahead and come out of the closet because a boy who loves singing more than basketball?

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-39977552533659412202010-08-17T06:00:00.004-04:002010-08-29T16:06:49.218-04:00

Maybe it seems like a good idea to you to be forced to go to a company picnic and hang out with 1000 people who you would never, ever in a billion years even say "pardon me!" to if you farted like RIGHT in their face on the bus, but that's where you are wrong because it is NOT a good idea at all. It is the opposite of a good idea. A good idea would be "Tell Kurt he's handsome." or "I think I

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-78727979977904200602010-07-28T11:16:00.002-04:002010-07-28T11:26:32.261-04:00

I have decided on a new strategy for understanding how women work. See, the trouble is, if you* tell a woman her period is making her insane, she gets MORE insane, and if you pretend you don't know it's her period making her insane than she gets suspicious and still thinks you think that, which you totally do, and that paranoia also makes her insane. What's a fella to do?Well I think the solution

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-61514353292123341262010-07-22T03:00:00.001-04:002010-07-22T03:00:02.047-04:00

At work there are these giant metal dumpsters and while that may sound like a good story, you should totally wait, because there's more. Every few weeks I stop at these dumpsters and try to pick them up even though they weigh a billion pounds probably, and the reason I do this is to check and see if my super-strength has come in yet*. So far, no go...I can't budge the fuckers. They are planted

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-62243646116640702062010-07-19T11:02:00.003-04:002010-07-19T11:18:29.003-04:00

Beautiful Treasure: Ooof! Are you sure this is a good idea?Me: Yeah...I...OW! Push harder!BT: I'm pushing as hard as I can...I don't think they'll all fit?Me: They'll fit. I know it.BT: Maybe if I brace my foot against your...chest...(*panting*)Me: Yeah try that...that might...work...MAN, that's tight!BT: Maybe if I had a different size?Me: No! We'll get it in. We can make this work.BT: (*

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-59535494973479504802010-07-12T06:00:00.002-04:002010-07-12T06:00:00.063-04:00

I think the best thing about summer vacation is how handsome I am. But the second best thing about summer vacation is that I get to hang out in my bathrobe all weekend and when I crouch down low to get my paper off the stoop, I can bend extra low because it feels good to have my junk not touching any clothes at all and then I imagine I'm in space, because in space no one can see your wang and

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-49292642700914162142010-06-28T05:55:00.001-04:002010-06-28T05:55:00.941-04:00

I was going to write this whole post about the big oil spill in wherever-it-is down south, and how even though a lot of environmentalism seems to center around humping whales, and eating dirt and not flushing your pee, the basic tenants of the movement are sound and to reject them all outright because "fuck granola", isn't necessarily the right path that leads to better future for our children.

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-3918069078179390962010-06-24T11:10:00.007-04:002010-06-24T11:29:24.675-04:00

Maybe some people think re-posting old entries is lazy like the way your mom's eye gets when she has a crashing orgasm but can't scream because the rubber duck she has duct taped in her mouth is preventing her from making any noise. (FACT: Rubber ducks are the poor Mom's ball gag.) I just said "ball" (*snicker*). Anyway(s) this shit is so old that it has grey pubic hair that it probably tries to

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-26197607010294888832010-06-23T09:00:00.003-04:002010-06-23T09:59:40.530-04:00

I know you probably think I have a super-manly, uterus-exploding job that requires a lot of spitting and fist bumping and standing up while peeing...like being a bouncer dressed as a cowboy at a zero-g whore house on the moon with dynamite strapped to his chest pretty much all the time, or a renegade speedboat captain doing stunts off a cliff and into a fight between two cyclopses who are both

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-66479732273175683722010-06-15T13:09:00.004-04:002010-06-15T13:20:16.949-04:00

Maybe you don't think 15 minutes is enough time to write a quality post, but guess what else you didn't think about? Me getting your mom pregnant and then she has to have the baby because that generation didn't believe in abortions but they did believe in shame and then your mom has the baby and now I'm like your illegitimate half-dad. Your Bastard Dad. And you know what happens when you

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-38132896251489618612010-06-03T06:00:00.000-04:002010-06-03T06:00:08.002-04:00

If I had a choice of apocalypses... I mean if I had to pick one way in which the entire human race would be wiped out. I would want it to be a boobie apocalypse, because boobies are awesome and comforting and fun to look at and that's way better than raining fire or a plague of bugs or everyone touches your mom where her bathing suit covers and gets Super-Herpes like in The Stand. Boobies are

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-4008480660129010292010-06-01T06:00:00.001-04:002010-06-01T06:00:07.060-04:00

It's the long weekend, and maybe you think Beautiful Treasure and I are too busy doing extreme sports like blindfolded bungee-humping or super base-jumping BMX flips to have any quiet time, but you are so wrong that you're like a guy who watches a little kid lick his finger and then slide it into a cat's anus and then giggle as the cat freaks out, but you don't say anything because it's not YOUR

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-48977430308878168682010-05-24T11:00:00.000-04:002010-05-24T11:00:04.772-04:00

You know what's worse than working with someone who is over-sensitive and has no sense of humor? Saying something offensive to someone who is over-sensitive and has no sense of humor. And I tried really hard to explain to her that I was just joking when I said "That sounds a little crazy to me." but I guess she took it to mean "You're a fucking bag of nuts minus the fucking bag!" So to comfort

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-11712558623644534442010-05-20T10:58:00.004-04:002010-05-20T11:29:37.023-04:00

I know you think that every day is like a thought revolution for me, and I spend all my time thinking outside any number of 3-dimensional vessels meant for holding things, and that I break so many paradigms that the owner of the paradigm store told me to "Get the Fuck OUT!" and now he's lost my business forever because the customer is always right even if he says "That thing on your face is

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-56142460753147342342010-05-19T10:46:00.005-04:002010-05-19T11:25:26.379-04:00

I'm spoiled. I know that seems impossible, because first of all, I have so few character flaws and secondly, I'm like the most humblest person that ever was. If my humility were an anthropomorphic animal it would be a fierce dragon that would devour everyone else's humility because they would all be tiny like chipmunks and bunny rabbits. And my humility would also have a giant cock and get lucky

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-48622973164601433142010-05-11T12:52:00.007-04:002010-05-11T13:20:11.446-04:00

So I'm here today to talk about the mysteries of life, a subject I know a lot about because I am like a shadowy wizard traversing the surface of society, always searching for that which alludes others. And by that I mean a Wonder-Bra© that will unhook itself if you just tweak a nipple a little. There could be like a little combination lock in there. 1/4 turn to the left, 2 turns to the right, 1/2

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-1588141650652988102010-05-07T08:42:00.010-04:002010-05-07T11:03:59.269-04:00

If you're like me than you understand a couple of things. 1) We look fucking awesome in boxer briefs as long as you put the mirror on the floor and lean it against the wall so our junk looks huge but our belly is 1000 miles away. 2) We HAVE to find the answers to the important questions. 3) We want a Fluffernutter© sandwich REALLY hard right now.It's the second point I'd like to undress*, because

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-982045811373407592010-05-05T11:27:00.001-04:002010-05-05T11:33:33.487-04:00

Now I don't know about you, but my favorite thing to hear about is other people's dreams! What an exciting adventure THAT always is! Because often times...REALLY WEIRD SHIT HAPPENS!!! Here is my synopsis of any dream that's ever been told to me ever ever in history of the whole universe:"So it starts out and I'm in this [WEIRD PLACE] (abandoned mall/ shopping cart/ giant vagina/ etc...) and

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-16021551292752402132010-05-03T11:30:00.001-04:002010-05-03T11:34:21.382-04:00

I think it's obvious that you can expect a certain level of entertainment from this blog. Maybe it's laser hippos* rapelling off the back of T. Rex that's your thing. Maybe it's sexy adventures where it's super-dark under the pile of sexy, naked, nymphomaniac, cocktail waitresses, so I have to find my bathrobe by sense of smell and luckily I left a half-eaten cucumber and bologna sandwich in the

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-28638365362242202532010-04-30T10:47:00.001-04:002010-04-30T11:10:55.989-04:00

This picture has nothing to do with this post. It just makes me laugh. I was going to write this whole post in defense of Skanks because I feel like everyone is racist against them even though they provide the valuable service of passing out on the pool table in the middle of a crowded party with their skirt hiked up around their waist, and I don't know about you but that is the vision of an

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-39330426489457126082010-04-28T11:00:00.004-04:002010-04-28T11:00:02.726-04:00

I was going to write this super, in-touch with the sensitive feelings in my heart, post about how this lady freaked out on me because I had my shirt off and was doing flex poses in front of the mirror in the restroom*. And sure, I SUPPOSE there's an argument to be made that I didn't belong in the ladies room to begin with, but the men's room smelled really bad and was dirty and didn't have a

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-42022147835683675082010-04-19T10:37:00.002-04:002010-04-19T13:40:16.260-04:00

I've been trying to write a post all morning but nothing is working, so instead I'm going to post all the false starts because (*dismissive wanking motion*) Enjoy. Or don't. I'm not your mom. You can tell I'm not because I can't shoot ping pong balls across the room with my vagina or scream safewords in German.***Some people say that one of the hardest parts of growing older is my wang.

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-77327180661076564252010-04-16T11:10:00.007-04:002010-04-16T11:10:00.049-04:00

I was going to write a post about weight loss because HAHAHAHAHA! Right? Oh brother, is it hard to lose weight! And then I would revolutionalize the internet because dieting is one thing no one ever writes about, so I'm like the Christopher Columbus of blogging, except without the cool hat and the historically inaccurate credit for something I didn't do. But then I thought about it and the idea

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-91727062050235810732010-04-14T11:30:00.002-04:002010-04-14T11:30:01.210-04:00

Maybe you think I work in some kind of Think Tank, where an elite squad of genius detectives, all with ravishing good looks and a finely-honed set of problem-solving skills, get together and sort out the world's problems using a carefully-balanced combination of daredevilry, brilliant deduction, amazing insight, and gorgeous abs. And our office is an ACTUAL tank so that if anyone tries to teach

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-41155252940311170742010-04-06T08:56:00.006-04:002010-04-06T11:32:58.945-04:00

Nothing "Hot for" ever happens to me at work and I'm starting to think it's a vast conspiracy where strippers are being kept from me because just being near me gets them pregnant on account of how virile and manly I am. There's no scientific fact that that's true, but I think we can all agree it probably is. (*sips cognac*)When "Hot for Teacher" came out in 1984, I was a pubescent boy and that

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-20252486379457274982010-04-05T11:05:00.008-04:002010-04-05T16:16:12.070-04:00

This wasn't one of my projects, but it should have been. Too bad this ankle tracker-bracelet isn't water-proof. I'm sure you've noticed that I wasn't around last week, because if all the blogs you read are your internal organs than this one is your taint. And without your taint all your junk gets sucked up your ass, so I'm pretty much the most important. (And YES, I went to Classy Metaphor

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-2414584841635216342010-03-26T11:00:00.007-04:002010-03-26T13:06:15.093-04:00

I google searched "Panda Back Rubs" and this is what I found. I feel like cuteness just blew its load all over my face. Maybe you think it is a funny idea to go up behind your boss when he is showing visible signs of agitation and getting all red and angry sounding, and you put one hand on each of his shoulders and start giving him a backrub and saying things like "Shhh. It's okay, Baby." But I

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-59100299759852764952010-03-23T11:01:00.000-04:002010-03-23T11:26:58.511-04:00

I was going to write a how-to guide about rolling up bologna into tubes and then taping the tubes together and then sliding one on each of your fingers like a Freddy Kruger claw and then going into a crowded area and caressing the back of people's necks with your bologna hand and HAHAHAHA! Now they've had damp, cool, lunch-meat rubbed on their skin!! What a hilarious joke! But the first person I

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-25172219273034989202010-03-19T11:07:00.007-04:002010-03-19T13:19:10.043-04:00

So because I am a great humanitarian, I have decided not to post any super-deep thought pieces today because it's Friday and I've already had like 6 Sloe Gin Fizzes, and maybe you think that's a girly drink but these pants didn't take themselves off, so they must work just fine.The first thing I want to talk about is this:which maybe was taken from the failblog, but I can't be sure because there

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-39597737784530927882010-03-18T11:01:00.006-04:002010-03-18T11:34:40.158-04:00

This image came up when I Googled "Wang Attack". (*shrug*)I was going to finally get around to posting my earth-shattering research in the field Advanced Handsomology but that's going to have to wait for later because there is important news coming out of Great Britain, and NO! it's not that they found a way to talk normal, or that they realized that those guards at Buckingham palace who are

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-79066206760599176302010-03-17T11:01:00.004-04:002010-03-17T11:39:37.603-04:00

Hey it's St Patrick's Day! And I've done my duty as a blogger and pointed out a known fact about what day it is, so now I can go on to write a ham-fisted post about a holiday I care little about. This is going to be like Wuthering Heights, I bet. Without all the sex.*Holidays are like freebies for bloggers. All you have to do is say what day it is and then relate your favorite St. Patrick's Day

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-34061194446403537272010-03-16T11:03:00.006-04:002010-03-16T11:40:51.210-04:00

I had to go to the shoe store because my old shoes are really messed up and according to the scale at work they've become 5 pounds heavier than they were. What the Eff, Shoes? I don't appreciate you making me feel fat. Now I know you ladies out there are going to love this post because it's about shoe shopping and [something, something misogynistic* that ties shoes and chocolate and getting your

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-91267666783129961432010-03-15T11:06:00.003-04:002010-03-15T12:48:27.120-04:00

I don't really have a plan for writing today, I just know I want to incorporate the word "grundle" in somehow, because I just learned it recently and it's kinda my new favorite. And if you don't know what one is, I'll give you a hint: It's the skin between the balls and the asshole.That was a good hint.I can't figure out how to really use the term to best maximize the read-worthiness of my post

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-22308029167923687052010-03-08T10:59:00.008-05:002010-03-08T12:13:04.807-05:00

It's Monday! And you know what that means on The Monster Apathy! That's right! I'm hung over and phoning it in. And maybe you think that's because of all the Oscar parties I went to last night with my entourage of sexy, gymnast, crime-stopping, supermodels. Well, I'm a gentleman and I don't kiss and tell (or not kiss and tell) or (or not kiss and sit at home crying on the couch because not only

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-89317315206853938952010-03-05T11:04:00.009-05:002010-03-05T13:40:48.193-05:00

Phone: Ring, ring. (My phone doesn't really "ring"...it's an antiquated symbolic noise I'm writing here)Me: Hello?Beautiful Treasure: Are you ready?Me: Actually, No. I wanted to ask you a question first.BT: Okay Shoot, Tiger*.Me: Okay. You know how all the kids today use the word "Ba-Donka-Donk" for ass? Well I...BT: Hold up there, Super Sexy Monster**. I don't think they actually use that anymo

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-13446373462798474642010-03-04T11:00:00.004-05:002010-03-04T11:26:11.034-05:00

I couldn't think of anything to post because I have amazing restraint and DON'T want to write about Farty Joe, my co-worker who has so much gas that pretty much every surface where he works is coated in a 10 micron-thick layer of poop, and the best part is when he farts really hard and it's loud and staccato and trumpety and then he breaks off into peals of laughter even though no one else is

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-29367435325880576322010-03-02T11:02:00.006-05:002010-03-02T16:40:40.713-05:00

Dear Shadow,Look Tubby...I think we need to have a talk because you're really letting yourself go and you used to be so tall and pointy and now you're kinda rounder and bulgey in the middle and maybe you don't have the same super-fast metabolism as me, because Buddy? You've got some junk in your trunk. Which is code for "fat ass" in case that wasn't clear. I mean the only way I'm able to maintain

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-63206023547133666472010-03-01T11:13:00.006-05:002010-03-01T12:05:52.405-05:00

I was trying to write a post about my sensitive feelings and how I want to hump Lilu Dallas from The Fifth Element, but Beautiful Treasure informed me that "humpy" is NOT an emotion but rather just an urge. And I tried to make my point that it was a very sensitive emotion by doing hip-thrusts around the kitchen in my socks and shouting "Choo-Chooo! Here comes the Fuck-Train!" but she said that

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-78017924844661036902010-02-24T10:51:00.008-05:002010-02-24T11:30:23.967-05:00

You know how in movies everyone in the history of anything escapes from being held prisoner or whatever through the air ducts? I'm pretty sure the Underground Railroad was all air ducts based on the information movies have provided me, and while that might not be historically accurate, I love hot dogs. Especially at the ballpark! Yummm. In other news, I just looked it up on the internet and The

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-44123016321982971812010-02-23T10:13:00.005-05:002010-02-23T11:26:37.488-05:00

I don't heart boogers at all. I don't feel one way or the other actually.I just think they are misunderstood.Today I was planning on doing some big science at work because I want to make the world a better place, not just for me but also for the children. Except those weird neighbor kids who I keep seeing in the hedgerow behind my apartment. I think they are pissing back there. I don't believe

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-15205773612615259222010-02-22T08:32:00.008-05:002010-02-22T10:54:37.174-05:00

If you don't want to read this whole long, ridiculous post, I don't blame you, so here is the first image that comes up if you do an image search for "Most Hysterical Possum". Enjoy!So this weekend I told someone I thought they had the IQ of a banana, and looking back on it now I feel super-guilty because how do I know how smart bananas are? Maybe they are, in general, the smartest of the fruits.

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-30904555959778004192010-02-16T11:07:00.008-05:002010-02-16T12:17:47.243-05:00

I was going to do an epic post about a guy at work that we'll call "Farty Joe" because he has something very wrong with his insides and maybe "Joe" is just a fake name I'll use on the internet, or MAYBE "Joe" is his real name and I've just done a classic double-cross in my mind like a secret agent. That's for you to figure out. I'm like Twin Peaks pretty much all the time.I was going to post

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-71701692888575142092010-02-15T11:30:00.002-05:002010-02-15T12:59:23.820-05:00

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Okay, Handsome. Tell us all about your fabulous weekend of Snowmobile flip jumps and arctic slalom races against naked Olympian supermodels, and having to hunt down the criminal who slipped poison into your martini at the roulette wheel that was on the dirigible just before it exploded. Well I'm sorry to disappoint, but none of those things happened

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-64477067026378945432010-02-10T11:20:00.003-05:002010-02-10T11:36:48.109-05:00

I was trying to talk to Beautiful Treasure about our future plans last night but she totally evaded my hard-hitting questions and I'd like to think it was because the reality that one day "all this" (*dramatic sweeping gesture up and down torso*) could be hers was a little overwhelming, but it might have just been she was trying to watch everyone run around the island on Lost and maybe she left

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-81329909145404653832010-02-08T11:40:00.001-05:002010-02-08T13:06:34.966-05:00

I didn't want to come to work today because of being lazy, but also because I accidentally got frosting on my finger and it dyed my finger pink so now when I point at someone it looks like I'm trying to shoot them with a piece of flamingo. And I don't know about you, but a flamingo gun does not sound very threatening. If I was going to come at someone with an animal gun, I would want it to be a

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-2485182024859654572010-02-05T11:30:00.003-05:002010-02-05T13:21:04.613-05:00

Because it's Friday and I'm lazy I think I'll make a list of all the things that I like less than the fact that my son has decided his favorite song of all time is "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley and he sings it all day every day forever and now I'm seriously think about Never gonna giving him up for adoption, because it's like being rick-rolled all the time. So here's the list of things

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-28069996038537505752010-02-03T11:25:00.000-05:002010-02-03T11:27:03.391-05:00

This is the best image that comes up when you Google "Hilarious Waffles". Of course it is.I don't know who it is in this building that smells like waffles, but I want to find them and bite the fuck out of them. I think if I invented waffle-smell cologne, I'd pretty much be set for life because let's face it...anyone who smells like a delicious Belgian treat is bound to be successful in whatever

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-82777844481999881712010-02-02T10:59:00.001-05:002010-02-02T11:25:14.348-05:00

So there's these two guys at work and they must be super-macho because they are talking about football, and I don't know about you but I can pretty much smell their cocks from here because of how manly football knowledge makes them. And they are trying to pull me into the conversation, so I play along because I don't really know what the statute of limitations is on a wedgie but the whole time I

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-1233785841866458812010-01-28T11:30:00.001-05:002010-01-28T11:30:54.359-05:00

So Beautiful Treasure and I were sitting around last night and I asked her who was on her Bucket List, and she was all "Huh?" and I was all "You know. The celebrities you want to leave me for and screw for free because you are shallow and only into looks and obviously blind because how could you choose them over THIS." and then I flexed my thigh muscles really big by doing a squat thrust for her.

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-88435243345261430902010-01-26T11:30:00.001-05:002010-01-26T11:33:20.035-05:00

In order to maintain my image as a handsome sexy pirate from beyond the sea*, I have decided that I need to add a fetish to my repertoire. And sure, at first Beautiful Treasure gave me raised eyebrows and the gentle head shake that says "Maybe you are a genius but nothing is going in my butt." Reading body language is my specialty** lucky for her and also I have clearly defined guidelines for

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-17664197666957657892010-01-19T11:12:00.004-05:002010-01-19T11:33:21.690-05:00

Dear Feelings Diary,My very stupid court-appointed psychiatrist said that I should keep you so that we can do something something emotions, but I wasn't really paying attention because I'm pretty sure she was flirting with me like THE WHOLE TIME I was in her office, and maybe that sounds unbelievable to YOU, Diary. But maybe you should just mind your own business and stop calling me a liar.She

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-42265591500147549272010-01-18T11:07:00.003-05:002010-01-18T11:33:43.722-05:00

I've been trying to write a humorous post about auto-erotic asphyxiation since yesterday's near miss long rainy afternoon and I'm having a hard time because first of all my neck hurts so bad and second because Beautiful Treasure says the "auto-" part means you have to do it to yourself, and I think we all know that choking to death is only funny when it's not you. It's like the glass is

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-53857243359441238842010-01-14T10:53:00.001-05:002010-01-14T11:30:03.961-05:00

Because I'm a brilliant innovator and also because I'm out of good ideas I thought I would analyze the lyrics to "Shake Me" by Cinderella because they seem deep and meaningful and when I was in eighth grade all I wanted to do was meet a 25 YO bimbo who had a fetish involving guys with Quiet Riot album cover artwork ironed-on to their t-shirts and maybe too-big "wormser" glasses because normal

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-75415661427232619502010-01-13T11:30:00.000-05:002010-01-13T11:31:06.159-05:00

"Those Gals! They want to be able to vote! Who put THAT idea in their head?"I wish my whole life was vaudeville, because I can solve every problem ever with a pie in the face or a seltzer bottle squirt or humorous waggle of my derby hat or stepping on a rake and having it bash me in the face repeatedly. I tried this on my boss today and once he gets back from the hospital we'll see if my theory

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-12452204681747765892010-01-11T11:28:00.006-05:002010-01-11T12:56:57.083-05:00

I was going to talk about how everyone at work is trying to talk to me about football, but I haven't really been watching at all this season so I just say "Yeah." and "So true." and "They really looked good." and they think that "They" means some football team that I don't care about but that is just a clever deception, because I'm really talking about how I put a mirror on either side and made

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-2534764533662436402010-01-08T11:25:00.000-05:002010-01-08T11:26:36.840-05:00

You know that moment when you walk out of a public restroom and first you start to go one way and then you second-guess yourself because the peeing got you all turned around so you start to walk in the other direction, but then you see something that reorients you and you realize the first direction was the right way after all so you stand there for a second and look around to see who saw you do

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-47869735140728318052010-01-07T11:30:00.006-05:002010-01-07T12:58:13.546-05:00

This is my 300th post. I know this because according to my research that's what Blogger says it is. I really can't think of anything to say about it, because you know what's special about 300? Nothing. Unless you are Gerard Butler in a loincloth and dripping with homo-erotic subtext. Than 300 is the number of men you've slept with. Okay so 300 is also relevant to your mom...but beyond that...

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-46253626539698286102010-01-06T11:30:00.000-05:002010-01-06T11:40:52.061-05:00

I don't know who is in charge of editing my dreams, but I can tell you this much...that guy needs to be fired because instead of rapelling off the back of a brontosaurus into a giant sombrero filled with naked coeds having a tickle fight, which is the kind of dream that is my GOD GIVEN RIGHT, I dreamt I had a long conversation with my Mom about how inadequate my dusting of her house was. And I

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-21427530010913009182010-01-05T11:33:00.010-05:002010-01-05T12:44:33.497-05:00

I was going to post something clever but then I sobered up so too bad for you. In the interim here's some Lego© porn . (*shrugs*)Even though I'm pretty sure I invented the sex dungeon, I never get any credit. It's probably because I'm so handsome. Everyone thinks that's enough. Well, I'm more than just a pretty face, and a gorgeous body and a winning smile.You may be asking yourself "Why the hell

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-16235075066563886962010-01-04T11:02:00.008-05:002010-01-04T18:47:14.857-05:00

I must be tired from all the crazy three-way sex with Beautiful Treasure and the lingerie supermodel ninjas because I can't think of anything funny to write about and sure by some people's definition I spent New Year's Eve doing alternate double shots of peach schnapps and eating a whole box of Ding-Dongs© to see what happens first, blacking out or puking , but that is so close to three-ways that

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-56418639113534832992009-12-31T09:30:00.000-05:002009-12-31T09:57:41.526-05:00

So It's New Year's Eve here at work which according to my calculations equals "who gives a fuck" about how much actual work gets done, and everyone is walking around real slow and pretending to not be watching the clock, but they are totally obvious about it because you don't just casually glance at any old wall every five minutes unless you are expecting it to topple over on you at any moment

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-22010311250662492372009-12-30T08:27:00.001-05:002009-12-30T08:27:00.148-05:00

I found this way, way back in my archives and I never published it, and I don't remember it even so maybe I never wrote it. I'm a mystery pretty much all the time is my point. It resembles real writing so I'm reluctant to post it, because what if I win a major award with it and then millions of people stream here to see me, and then they read all my cock-and-booby based entries and they get all

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-22672789534383307222009-12-29T11:29:00.000-05:002009-12-29T11:29:21.702-05:00

Okay. I'm totally ready now.Go!I'm serious, I've seen enough action movies to know that when a person is living a seemingly boring life and it doesn't look like anything interesting will ever happen to them, POW! something extreme happens and I don't know if the Russians need to invade or if someone needs to hijack a building or what, but obviously, if I am THIS handsome and living a boring life

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-26989491920994414512009-12-28T11:02:00.002-05:002009-12-28T11:12:26.207-05:00

I wrote this a while ago and while some people might accuse me of being lazy and posting things that never should have seen the light of day, I think we can all agree that those people are bad in the sack. Case closed. So without further ado here's me and Hattori Hanzo, the voice in my head, talking about cupcakes. Why am I embarrassed about this already?Wow! Cupcakes are like the greatest food

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-45040035004482757822009-12-23T08:52:00.000-05:002009-12-23T09:04:35.249-05:00

So we're driving back from the store last night and The Boy is singing "Lady Marmalade" because of course he was and the universe is telling me "Hey Kurt! Here's some weird shit. It's a hit song from 2001 that he has had no reason to ever hear. Your Move." I hate when the universe plays a deadly game of cat-and-mouse with me by making me deal with weird shit. And sure, maybe by standard

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-60578157435866492122009-12-22T10:35:00.005-05:002009-12-22T11:04:13.308-05:00

There's this guy at work...let's call him Joe, because that's his name and Joe's laugh is so annoying that it makes me want all the funny things in the entire universe to fall over dead so that I never, ever, ever have to hear his high-pitched stuttering bark ever again. Seriously, he's like a terrier who barks at everything and each time it barks an air-horn goes off in its ass and it drags its

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-53413716787374417342009-12-21T08:30:00.003-05:002009-12-21T11:48:04.830-05:00

It's Christmas time!!! Hahahahhaha!Just kidding. I'm not going to write about Christmas because I am super-edgy and a lone wolf except I need Beautiful Treasure to help me with splinters because I super-hate splinters and get a little woozy when I get one and also because she's fast enough to catch me and tackle me and get the splinter out because for me with splinters it's always "fight or

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-81142939834080547882009-12-17T04:00:00.002-05:002009-12-17T04:00:00.770-05:00

Vic and Becky and I got together and decided that it was time for a super trifecta pimp and the reason for that is that the person we are pimping is super-nice and likes to wear Wolverine claws and attack her cat and dress as a pirate and write funny adventures that often involve boobs on her blog. So this is me giving up a rare pimp for Miss Yvonne. Way to go, Yvonne. You have garnered my very

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-73180454026873536922009-12-16T11:00:00.000-05:002009-12-16T11:01:40.761-05:00

We were all corralled into a special meeting this morning at work and maybe some people expected me to be on time and not wearing headphones and paying close attention but those people were gravely disappointed because the only thing I was paying attention to was the shiny wrapper of the Three Musketeers© bar in the vending machine. All that delicious whipped,

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-53810217745322978062009-12-15T04:00:00.001-05:002009-12-15T04:00:00.798-05:00

Kurt: Listen, Beautiful Treasure, it's not that you didn't do a good job last week when you posted for me. It's just...my readers...they're used to a certain...writing style, and you did great and everything, but maybe I should just take it from here.BT: Your mom takes it from here. *points to butthole*Kurt: What are you doing?BT: Practicing for my next guest spot on your blog! I get it, baby, I

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5734063405097977317.post-60088765283643136642009-12-14T07:00:00.001-05:002009-12-14T07:26:53.701-05:00

Hey. Just thought I'd drop by because I've been a little absent lately. Also because I'm so handsome. It's probably good that stop in and tell everyone what's what because otherwise maybe you would think I was kidnapped and being ransomed off to the highest bidder at the high-end man-whore slave auction. There, there. All your concerns, albe-they super legitimate, are for naught. I have evaded

Kurthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575708700735000787noreply@blogger.com12