frisky lisp



Topics here: travel, dogs, hiking, camping, canoeing, wildlife, national parks & stupid crap.

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stupidwindowshutters:

A bold design for the only shitter (typo, but I’m keeping it) to be found on the entire house.

Stupid window shutter

stupidwindowshutters:

A bold design for the only shitter (typo, but I’m keeping it) to be found on the entire house.

Stupid window shutter

This cartoon kitty wears an early 19th century, metal diving helmet. One is to presume that the underwater gear allows him to safely deep-sea dive for fresh and delicious shrimp. 

However, what is, at first glance, a silly drawing, quickly becomes a twisted tale involving obsolete scuba equipment, a poorly conceived, one-track plan and probable drowning. 

Within mere moments, a viewer of this Whiskas Temptations cat snack package begins to worry about the lack of an illustrated air tank or, at the very least, an air hose playfully leading off the packaging (or perhaps continuing around the back of the package and into a boat, where we’d find another cat pal monitoring Diving-kitty’s air supply. Boat-kitty would be depicted as rubbing his paws together and licking his lips at the thought of the seafood bounty just below the surface) to suggest that this fishing expedition won’t be the feline’s last. 

One can suspend disbelief for only so long before the sheer weight and bulkiness of an antique diving helmet sitting upon a cat’s delicate frame sinks into the gruesome reality: Death is sure to pounce on this ill-prepared kitty cat. 

Rest in peace, you tubby, declawed fool in search of your final seafood gorge. Your cruel struggle shall not be forgotten.

This cartoon kitty wears an early 19th century, metal diving helmet. One is to presume that the underwater gear allows him to safely deep-sea dive for fresh and delicious shrimp.

However, what is, at first glance, a silly drawing, quickly becomes a twisted tale involving obsolete scuba equipment, a poorly conceived, one-track plan and probable drowning.

Within mere moments, a viewer of this Whiskas Temptations cat snack package begins to worry about the lack of an illustrated air tank or, at the very least, an air hose playfully leading off the packaging (or perhaps continuing around the back of the package and into a boat, where we’d find another cat pal monitoring Diving-kitty’s air supply. Boat-kitty would be depicted as rubbing his paws together and licking his lips at the thought of the seafood bounty just below the surface) to suggest that this fishing expedition won’t be the feline’s last.

One can suspend disbelief for only so long before the sheer weight and bulkiness of an antique diving helmet sitting upon a cat’s delicate frame sinks into the gruesome reality: Death is sure to pounce on this ill-prepared kitty cat.

Rest in peace, you tubby, declawed fool in search of your final seafood gorge. Your cruel struggle shall not be forgotten.

stupidwindowshutters:

“Don’t tell me how to do my job! This looks good. It fills this space that would otherwise make perfect sense left free of a stupid as fuck decorative window shutter.” - Drunk architect. 

Please, stop this madness!

stupidwindowshutters:

“Don’t tell me how to do my job! This looks good. It fills this space that would otherwise make perfect sense left free of a stupid as fuck decorative window shutter.” - Drunk architect.

Please, stop this madness!

fuckyeahcairnterriers:

Shake by j_shoemaker on Flickr.
Marlon is 9 years old today.  I took him in as a foster for CairnRescue.com 8 years ago this week. I failed at fostering within a couple of months. He’s an incredible delight & I feel lucky to have him in my life.  To many more years filled with your beauty, Marlon.

fuckyeahcairnterriers:

Shake by j_shoemaker on Flickr.

Marlon is 9 years old today.

I took him in as a foster for CairnRescue.com 8 years ago this week. I failed at fostering within a couple of months. He’s an incredible delight & I feel lucky to have him in my life.

To many more years filled with your beauty, Marlon.

stupidwindowshutters:

I think we all know what we’d see if we could peer through this well-manicured, yet windowless attempt at normalcy: Behind these purely decorative wastes of resources exists an elaborate, dark, leather-cloaked, deviant, soulless and possibly pedophilic sex dungeon. Neighbors beware!

stupidwindowshutters:

I think we all know what we’d see if we could peer through this well-manicured, yet windowless attempt at normalcy: Behind these purely decorative wastes of resources exists an elaborate, dark, leather-cloaked, deviant, soulless and possibly pedophilic sex dungeon. Neighbors beware!

A Lyrical Conversation…with Tex James and Stuey Rock’s “Smart Girl”

Scene: it’s Monday morning. You’re in the office kitchen brewing some coffee. Your stupid coworker, Stuey Rock enters.

Stuey Rock: Drop it like this, drop it like this girl. Drop it like this, drop it like this girl. Stuey Rock in the building.

You: Wow, someone’s in a good mood!

Stuey Rock: I want a smart girl, with a dumb booty, with a dumb booty.  I need a smart girl, with a dumb booty, with a dumb booty.

You:  Sounds like you’ve got that all figured out.

Stuey Rock: Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.

You:  I’m not really in the mood to “drop it” like that. You know, Mondays ‘n’ stuff.

[Your stupid coworker, Tex James, enters the kitchen.]

Tex James: On a black zag Mars, so she saved by the bell.  

You:  Huh?

Tex James: Rest in peace to this beat, nobody kill it, send it straight to hell.  

You:  …

Tex James: She’s head of the class but she got a stupid booty. Kelly, lkj;lkads, akls;djf, Lisa if she got her mama booty.

You: OK. I just started the coffee machine. Maybe I’ll come back in a few minutes. 

Stuey Rock:  Back it up and drop it down. Back it up and drop it down. Make that thing clap clap.  Back it up and drop it down.

You:  Oh, I get it! Ass cheeks slapping together sound like “clap, clap.” Ahhh! Nice…

Tex James: she in the library and study hall thinking about getting her freaky on.  She can’t ride it with the skirt on. Commando no pants on.

You: Well, I better get back to my desk. I’ll come ba…

Stuey Rock: I need a smart girl, with a dumb booty, with a dumb booty.  I need a smart girl, with a dumb booty, with a dumb booty.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this, blow it away you do it like that.

[Stuey Rock has blocked your exit with his body. You find Tex James blocking the other exit when you turn around.]

You: [Nervous laughter]

Stuey Rock: Then throw it back, then drop it low.  Tens and twenties don’t hit the floor.  

Keep it dancing and I might throw so more.  

You:  Like a strip club? Um, I’m not a stripper. See, fully clothed over here.

Stuey Rock: Speed up and then take it slow.  Oh, now watch this money got this stack now so I can fuck her.  

You:  Who? Who do you want to f…

Stuey Rock: Then I cash out, till i smash out, rock beats till I pass out. College girl she’s smart as hell.  And she knows she’s bad!  I join the class just to sit next to the kjahsdlkfjh

You: Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. So, I’m gonna leave now…

Stuey Rock: I need a smart girl, with a dumb booty, with a dumb booty.  I need a smart girl, with a dumb booty, with a dumb booty.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.

You:  Oh, right.  I remember you saying that a lot earlier.  Excuse me. Pardon me…

Tex James: Long heels, redbone, boom team on her boy shorts.  In her dorm room told home boys she had at her momma house.  She can’t cook, don’t clean.  She drank linen, she smoke green.  She danced through the house all by herself, like she trying to act with at torque team.  I got condo on my wrist…all my cars in my sys.  I’m gonna cash it out like I’m gonna cash out.  Everybody know I tex james.  I like a smart girl with a dumb booty.  Where I’m from we call it jude.  Ass so big it don’t make no sense.  Super stupid!

You:  Excuse me.  I’m just going to walk past you to get out the door. [You struggle to get past Stuey Rock. Your chin is wrinkling. You push Stuey, trying to get through. You don’t want him to see you cry.]

Stuey Rock: I need a smart girl, with a dumb booty, with a dumb booty.  I need a smart girl, with a dumb booty, with a dumb booty.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.  Drop it like this, drop it like this girl.

You: [You finally shove yourself past Stuey Rock and run to the restroom, where you lock yourself in a stall. You think about how you haven’t felt safe since that weekend your father took you sailing when you were 12 and the world felt open and limitless to you. Everything was beautiful and possible.]  WHERE DID I GO WRONG IN LIFE? [You cry in the stall until your lunch break. Then you leave the office and never return. You are homeless within two months.] 

I found this badass rock shaped like a skull on a trail in Hercules-Glades Wilderness Area today. Sweet shit, right?

I found this badass rock shaped like a skull on a trail in Hercules-Glades Wilderness Area today. Sweet shit, right?

A Lyrical Conversation…With Rihanna’s “Loveeeeeee Song”

Scene: You are in a bar with a couple of friends. A woman named Rihanna has joined your party. During the first 45 minutes of her sloppy presence in your otherwise pleasant evening, you thought her name was “Reen”, because that’s the way the name fell out of her slack-jawed face. You don’t know her, but she is chummy immediately. She is loaded and has just exposed her right tit. You aren’t sure if it was on purpose.

Rihanna: Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it… [She says, as she flops her right, naked tit onto the bar.]

You: Oh, OK. That’s cool. [Your friends walk away from the crazy lady to play pool.]

Rihanna: I don’t wanna give you the wrong impression. I need love and affection.

You: Um, let me just…[You pull Rihanna’s tube top back up and over her right tit.] There we go. That’s better now, isn’t it?

Rihanna: And I hope I’m not sounding too desperate. I need love and affection.[she puts her left arm around your shoulder and squeezes your right thigh with her right hand.]

You: [To the bartender] Hey, can we get some water over here for this lady?

Rihanna: Love, love, love, love and affection. Love, love, L-O-V-E-E-E and affection.

You: Yes, love and affection. [You look over at the pool table, where your friends are - they are laughing at you.] Yup.

Rihanna: Baby, come hold me tight and when I’m drowning save me. Give it to me on a daily.

You: I actually have a girlf…

Rihanna: If I’m your girl say my name, boy. Let me know I’m in control.

You: Here, let’s put your hands up on the bar. Control, eh?

Rihanna: We both grown, so how we feel we can let it show. I-I-I, won’t play around. I-I-I, I wanna lay you down. I-I-I, I need you now, I need you now.

You: Well, like I said before, I’m a taken guy. I’m just here with my frie…

Rihanna: Oh oh. [she says as she massages her temples with two beer bottles.]

You: Are you OK?

Rihanna: I don’t wanna give you the wrong impression. I need love and affection.

You: Yeah, you just seem to be going through a tough time. It’ll turn around for you. Just give it some time.

Rihanna: And I hope I’m not sounding too desperate. I need love and affection. Love, love, love, love and affection. Love, love, L-O-V-E-E-E and affection.

You: Right, love. Love and affection. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Do you need help getting home?

Rihanna: Boy lately, you’ve been stingy with your time. Got me wondering, I’m wondering if I’m on your mind.

You: Right. Hey, is this your ID on the floor? Yeah, this looks like you. I know this address. It’s right around the corner. Why don’t you let me walk you home? [You motion to your friends to come over.]

Rihanna: Boy, I just wanna be in your possession. You say I’m the one you want so come express it.

You: [to Rihanna, as you collect her purse and shoes] That’s not really you being in control, like you said earlier. Is this all your stuff? [To your friends] She lives around the corner, so I’m going to walk her home really quick.

Rihanna: Don’t slip, don’t slip. ‘Cause a nigga might push up on it. Don’t really wanna lose this moment. Why window shop when you own this? [She says, as she leans on you all the way to her apartment.]

You: This “FUCK OFF” welcome mat is a nice touch. [You guide her into her apartment.]

Rihanna: I-I-I don’t put it down. I-I-I don’t fuck around. I-I-I want you now, I want you now, oh oh whoah.

You: Why don’t you lie down on the couch?

Rihanna: I don’t wanna give you the wrong impression. I need love and affection.

You: Here’s a blanket.

Rihanna: And I hope I’m not sounding too desperate. I need love and affection. Love, love, love, love and affection. Love, love, L-O-V-E-E-E and affection. [She is begins to snore loudly and drool on a cheetah-print pillow.]

You: [You glance around her apartment. You pick up her laptop sitting on the ottoman and stuff it into a leather laptop case sitting next to it, then throw the strap over your shoulder. She has a decent Nikon camera sitting on her coffee table. It’s now yours. You throw it around your neck and take a picture of Rihanna sleeping. The flash briefly awakens her, but she falls back to sleep quickly. You walk out the front door with your new possessions and close it. Then open it enough to peek your head in before leaving.] Nighty night, dumb whore.

A Lyrical Conversation…With Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass”

Scene: You are waiting at a bus stop after work when a crack whore approaches you. 

Crack whore: [her hot pink spandex skirt has rolled midway up her ample ass, exposing her thong and an unidentifiable blob of a tattoo on her left ass cheek - maybe it’s a clover? She pulls her skirt back down to mid-cellulite-riddled-thigh and points to her outfit as she looks in your direction.] This one is for the boys with the boomin’ system. Top down, AC with the coolin’ system. 

You: Hi.

Crack whore: when he come up in the club, he be blazin’ up. Got stacks on deck like he savin’ up.

You: …

Crack whore: and he ill, he real, he might got a deal. He pop bottles and he got the right kind of build.

You: [you hold your belongings close and fake-answer your phone.] Hey, yeah, sorry I missed your call earlier.

Crack whore: [she turns away from you and walks the sidewalk as if she’s a model on the catwalk, then trips over her hippo ankles. She lies splayed on her back.] He cold, he dope, he might sell coke. He always in the air, but he never fly coach. [She begins to do a “bicycle riding” motion while on her back.]

You: [you stuff your phone back into your bag, stand up from the bench and step around the crack whore to look down the street for your bus. Still on the ground, the crack whore stretches out her leg and pokes you in the shin with her raggedy-ass, leopard-print, high-heel.] Um, sorry…

Crack whore: [makes eye contact with you. Your hopes for the future leave you.] He a muthafuckin’ trip, trip, sailor of the ship, ship. When he make it drip, drip, kiss him on the lip, lip. [She licks a cold sore on her lip.]

You: oh… [You scramble back to the bench.]

Crack whore: [she rolls over onto her belly and does a “snow angel” motion with her legs and arms. One of her shoes come off.] What’s the kind of dude I was lookin’ for. And yes you’ll get slapped if you’re lookin’ ho.

You: I wasn’t…looking…um…

Crack whore: [a young, teenage boy approaches. The crack whore picks herself up from the sidewalk and focuses on the boy instead of you.] I said, excuse me you’re a hell of a guy. I mean my, my, my, my you’re like pelican fly.

Boy: Shut up, ho!

Crack whore: [to the boy] I mean, you’re so shy and I’m loving your tie. You’re like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye, oh.

Boy: Bitch, I ain’t wearin’ no tie. What? You been through all yo johns today already?

Crack whore: yes I did, yes I did. Somebody please tell him who the eff I is.

Boy: [the boy exhales disgustedly and sits down on the bench near you.]

You: [you hold your belongings tightly.]

Crack whore: [she, minus one shoe, hobbles up to the boy.] I am Nicki Minaj, I mack them dudes up. Back coupes up, and chuck the deuce up.

Boy: Bitch, back up!

Crack whore: boy you got my heartbeat runnin’ away. Beating like a drum and it’s coming your way. Can’t you hear that boom, badoom, boom. Boom, badoom, boom bass?

Boy: leave me alone, nasty ass!

Crack whore: [to you] he got that super bass.

You: [you nod your head.]

Crack whore: boom, badoom, boom. Boom, badoom, boom bass. Yeah that’s that super bass. [Still down one shoe, she limps away from your bus stop. You can hear her voice as she makes her way down the sidewalk.] Boom, badoom, boom. Boom, badoom, boom, he got that super bass. Boom, badoom boom. Boom, badoom, boom, yeah that’s that super bass. [She disappears from your life. Your hope for the future returns.]

You: [to yourself] fuck the environment! I’m never taking the bus again.

A Lyrical Conversation… With Chris Brown’s “Don’t Judge”

Scene: You are standing in line for a Porta Potty at an outdoor concert with your ex-boyfriend. He agreed to never contact you again, if you agreed to attend the concert with him.

Chris: I don’t wanna go there.

You: Just walk in and do your business. There’s Purell in there that you can hit before you walk out the door.

Chris: We should never go there.

You: It’s not really that big of a deal, at all.

Chris: Damn!

You: Piss yourself then! Jesus fucking Christ!

Chris: Why you wanna go there?

You: I don’t WANT to go in. It’s not like I’ve been daydreaming about it for days. “Oh, I can’t wait to go to the concert with my loser ex-boyfriend and lock myself in a Porta Potty and just go and go and go and love life!” …Fucking idiot!

Chris: I guess I gotta go there.

You: Go! Die! I don’t care.

(You and Chris meet back up after using the Porta Potties. He wraps his arm around you and you brush him off, because you aren’t interested in getting back together with him.)

Chris: …You’re hearing rumors about me and you can’t stomach the thought of someone touching my body.

You: I heard all of the “rumors”, yeah.

Chris: When you’re so close to my heart I won’t deny what they saying. Because, most of it is true. But, it was all before I fell for you. So, please babe. So, please…

You: No, it was actually DURING the time that you had supposedly fallen for me.

Chris: Don’t judge me and I won’t judge you.

You: You don’t have a reason to judge me, asshole!

Chris: ‘Cause it could get ugly, before it gets beautiful.

You: Is that like a threat or something?

Chris: Please don’t judge me and I won’t judge you.

You: I judge you nonstop for what you did.

Chris: If you love me, then let it be beautiful.

You: Well, shit’s going to stay ugly, I guess.

Chris: Let it be beautifu-u-ul, let it be beautiful. Let it be beautifu-u-ul, let it be beautiful.

You: Fuck off! I only agreed to come to this concert with you, because you said that you’d stop calling me if I did.

Chris: Everything I say right now is gonna be used in another fight.

You: You can say whatever you want. We won’t be arguing anymore after tonight, because we won’t have anymore contact.

Chris: And I’ve been through this so many times.

You: Yes, because you’re a serial cheater.

Chris: Can we change the subject?

You: …

Chris: You gonna start asking me questions like:”Was she attractive? Was she an actress?”

You: No, I don’t give a shit about any of it anymore. Look, I’m just going to move into the crowd now and I don’t want to see your face again. Bye, dildo!

Chris: (shouting at you as you walk away) Baby, the fact is you’re hearing rumors about me. And saw some pictures online. Saying they got you so angry making you wish you were blind. Before we start talking crazy, saying some things we’ll regret.

You: FUCK OFF! If you contact me again, I’ll have you killed.

(You make your way to the middle of the crowd. There, you get a text message from Chris.)

Chris (TEXT): Can we just slow it down and press reset. Damn, you’re beautiful.

You: …

Chris (TEXT): Just let the past….Just be the past and focus on things that are gonna make us laugh.

You: …

Chris (TEXT): Take me as I am, not who I was.

You: …

Chris (TEXT): I’ll promise I’ll be, the one that you can trust.

You: …

(You delete Chris as a contact in your phone.)