My Penis Has a Case of the Mondays
I just clicked on this video titled “Jessica Alba getting spanked,” because that’s what you do when you have a decision-making penis. I thought it would be sexy: Light, sensual hand slaps followed by tight gluteal close-ups, interspersed with spanking banter, like:
SPANKER
I’m gonna get you.
ALBA
Please don’t get me.
SPANKER
I’m gonna get you.
ALBA
Please don’t get me.
SPANKER
I’m gonna get you.
ALBA
Please don’t get me.
SPANKER
You’re baaaaaad.
ALBA
Yes, I’m baaaaad.
SPANKER
Ooooooooh.
ALBA
Aaaaaaaah.
Y’know, like when our moms used to spank us. Decison-making penises beware! You get none of that! You get plenty of violent belt whaps; one close-up of Alba’s bruised, welted buttocks; and a lot of close-ups of her spanker’s deranged face. Just like when dad used to spank us! There is interstitial spanking chatter, but it’s unfit for print. Not because I won’t write graphic dialogue, but because I don’t know how to spell out the sounds of unadulterated shrieking.
And then, just as decision-making penis is acknowledging the error in judgment and crawling back into his cave, passionate sex happens. Previous erection is unprepared for this. It sort of feels like tailgating before your team’s big game, followed by your squad totally tanking under pressure for 3/4 of the contest, only to rally for a victory after you’ve given up hope and left the arena.
That’s what it figuratively feels like. Literally, it feels like having an inverted boner.
My name is Ben and I blogged this.
Baby Cola, Baby
Cola for Babies
No question about it: Those tiny twelve-ounce Coke bottles are the worst thing ever. And yes, I’m fully aware of the Holocaust and that tsunami thing and the re-make of The Birdcage. Worse than all three atop a 7-Grain cracker in which two of the grains are AIDS.
First of all, the bottle looks like a chode penis. Women, it probably makes your vaginae cringe. Men, it likely makes your peni growl. Don’t you just wanna punch it in the face for no reason? I know, me too! It’s the whiny, high-pitched Jewy guy in front of you at the bank…of penis-like Coke bottles.
And it tastes funny, too; flat from the moment it hits the bottle, like it was born dead. 12-Ounce bottles are where they store their Coca Cola miscarriages.
“But it’s nice to have the cap, in case you don’t finish.” Bullshit. If you can’t finish a chode-penis-worth of Coke, go back to drinking breast milk, baby! Was that harsh? Go back to drinking breast milk, baby!
Remember these tiny Coke bottles?
They were awesome because they’re made of glass, so you could use them to bludgeon anyone cruel enough to offer you only a sip of soda when you asked for a whole beverage.
This post is both aggressive and foul!
Speaking of Coke bottles: Have you heard Trey Songz’ that’s-so-stupid-I-can’t-stop-singing-it song “LOL Smiley Face”? You must’ve heard it by now. Here’s the chorus, just in case:
“Go to my page and follow and if you’ve got a body like a Coke bottle…” Here is a picture of a bunch of Coke bottles (and one Coke can ’cause I don’t discriminate (except against gypies (baby-stealing bastards))):
Do any of them resemble bodies you’d like to canoodle? No! Especially not the 2-Liter, which resembles a body achieved by drinking a lot of 2-Liters. But check out the broad shoulders on that 20-Ounce. Is that a Coke bottle or Serena Williams? Hey Mommy, I like the way you’re built!
Okay, this joke has gone far enough. I already drink enough Coke without letting it turn into a fetish.
My name is Ben and I blogged this.
Who Be Doin’ Dat Bloggin’?
We’ve got a few new readers here at the site and what better way to welcome them than with a short survey from your favorite Poop or Chocolate bloggonaire, B-Dazzle aka Bloggy 1Time aka Mitch Sickness aka Panda Express Yo’self aka Ben Axelrad. These are my responses to the ten questions you, the readers, most wanted answered. Or so I assume. I didn’t actually ask anyone.
Alright, y’all. Let us be doing this! Newbies, this is for you!
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
WEIRDEST PLACE YOU’VE EVER FUCKED?
Inside a fart.
WEIRDEST PLACE YOU’VE EVER FARTED?
Inside a birth canal.
WHAT’S THE MOST MOON ROCKS YOU’VE EVER FIT IN YOUR MOUTH?
That’s for me and space to know. And space ain’t talkin’.
HOW MANY BOOKS CAN YOU READ?
Yes we can!
WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST TURNOFF?
Women with vaginas.
WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST TURN ON?
Molten lava cakes with vaginae.
HOW MANY PILLOWS DO YOU USE?
Two. One for my head and one for my dick. Oh, and the head is the one on my dick.
WHAT IS YOUR DREAM JOB?
Pizza/Baby Delivery. Until I screw up and shove a pizza in a snatch. Then it’s my dream life.
WHAT IS YOUR NICKNAME?
Snitch. But you didn’t hear that from me.
WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE ON YOUR TOMBSTONE?
At my grave or on my pizza?
GRAVE.
“Here lies pepperoni and sausage on this pizza.”
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
I hope after reading this you feel you know me better. Even though you don’t.
Anyone who read the DC Pierson interview (thanks for reading it!) and now expects a certain level of intellect around here is in for a rude awakening. He’s the smart one. I’m the guy who runs a website called Poop or Chocolate. Come for the elegant fart jokes, leave for the lack of elegance, then return anonymously for all those gosh darn inelegant farties.
You know you love it.
My name is Ben and I blogged this.
Happy Birthday, Big Prezzie
What’s the big deal? So maybe he was born in Kenya. Are we not celebrating the birth of Kenyans now? Is this because of their monopoly on marathon victories? Whatever. I’ll let it slide this time. But when Jomo Kenyatta’s b-day rolls around, I’m observing that shit.
I was lucky enough to get some face time with Obama on his birthday. Here is the transcript from our encounter:
Thank you for agreeing to this meeting, Mr. President.
OBAMA
Don’t call me that. I’m not working today.
BEN
You’re taking the day off from being the president?
Can you do that?
OBAMA
Hell yeah I can do that. Look…Nobody should have to work on
their birthday. That should be a law. I’m going to make
that my birthday wish and then, tomorrow, when I’m
president again, I’ll grant it. I make my own luck!
BEN
Fair enough. So can I ask you presidential questions?
OBAMA
Nope. Only birthday questions.
BEN
Uh, okay. How old are you today?
OBAMA
48. 48 years strong, 48 inches long.
BEN
Oh, 48…wait, what? 48 inches long of what?
OBAMA
You know what.
BEN
There is no way you have a 48-inch long penis.
OBAMA
There is no way YOU have a 48-inch long penis.
BEN
True.
OBAMA
You’re more like four to eight inches. Closer to four.
BEN
Alright.
OBAMA
You got a jewy dick. I’m a mu’fuckin’ Kenyan.
BEN
Enough already.
OBAMA
I’m gonna pee out my candles. From four feet away. You watch.
BEN
I don’t wanna watch. That’s going to be disgusting.
OBAMA
You’ll still eat it. When your president pees on a cake
you eat it.
BEN
Well good thing you’re not president today.
OBAMA
Touché, Ben Axelrad. You’ve been pardoned.
BEN im
Thanks, Mr. Presi…How should I refer to you?
OBAMA
B-Bomb. That’s what my friends call me.
BEN
Happy birthday, B-Bomb.
OBAMA
Thanks, blogger. Now go fuck yourself.
Can you guys believe I met the President? I know. He’s different than you’d imagine. Dropped a couple F-bombs. Has a giant trouser snake. I’m not saying better or worse, just different than you’d imagine.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I promised B-Bomb I would go fuck myself.
My name is Ben and I blogged this.
My Name is Ben
