And Now A Word From Our Sponsors

Oh yeah! Unnnh! UNNNHHH! Oh yeah, a little more, a little more, a little more... 98.6! Ok, I'm done.

If you’ve been following my site for a while, get help. Really. Also, you might remember that someone approached me wanting to sully my precious web site with advertising. And what’s worse, secret advertising, designed to make me seem like the kind of guy that would all of a sudden turn into a giant tool and start hawking the wares of others in the middle of a perfectly good post about unicorns having herpes. The very thought sickens me.

And when I feel sick, I know that I can trust the good people over at Barrington Diagnostics. Their 60 Second Rectal Thermometer will give me accurate readings every time, letting me make informed health decisions. And with the new flexible tip, I don’t have to worry about puncturing my colon again! Barrington Diagnostics: They make sticking things in my ass fun!

…One thousand two hundred and twenty, one thousand two hundred and forty… Sorry, where was I again? Oh yeah, advertising. It disgusts me, mainly because no one wants to pay me enough to do it. I’d gladly turn over this site to a mega-conglomerate so that they could espouse the advantages of using Globo-Chem brand butt plugs, but unfortunately they do not believe that my humble site would generate enough sales to justify my asking price of “a metric fuckton of money”. What a bunch of assholes.

And so I have decided to show these fucktards the error of their ways by engaging in Involuntary Advertising, which is an exciting new concept that I just thought up between breakfast beers. Do you have a product or service that you would like to advertise on my web site, only my web site disgusts you and you want nothing to do with it? Well, then you’re in luck! Because I’m going to advertise for you whether you like it or fucking not. That’s right, asshole, I’ve got your product or service right here!

When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I want after I vigorously masturbate through the front door mail slot, is a nice, big bowl of Kellogg’s Corn Pops. Did you know that it’s part of a complete breakfast? Because it totally fucking is. And I don’t care what those assholes over at Sugar Smacks say, but Corn Pops are NOT made of packing peanuts and speed. They are goddamn delicious and go well with bourbon. Kellogg’s Corn Pops. BOOM!

I’ll let you know how the lawsuits are going.