KillTheCan.org Accountability Forum
Community => Introductions => Topic started by: DeanTheCoot on March 26, 2009, 10:07:00 AM
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For those of us who have been on the can for 15+ years, I suppose it does come down to quitting or dying. I don't feel like dying, so quitting is my only option.
A long time ago, I told myself that it would suck to be in my 30s, still dipping, dying of cancer. Well, now I'm in my 30s. I don't have cancer, and I am not dying. That's good. I owe it to whoever or whatever to stop pushing my fucking luck. I need to get ahead of this before it kills me.
And you know what I try to keep in mind? As depressing as it is to think of a world without tobacco (and by God...the sense of loss I get when trying to quit is vicious), it's much more depressing to think about saying goodbye to my one-year-old.
Anyway, I run the risk of blabbing because this is the first time I have tried to quit in more than three years, and this is day three for me. (I spent day one on the patch, but I went pure nicotine-free yesterday.) Needless to say, I barely know where I am right now. I am plowed with withdrawal. I could very easily verbally assault and bring to tears anyone who comes near me, and afterward demolish this office building with my bare hands and teeth. I think I WOULD like to do that, actually.
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Congrats on a good start of your quit! You can do this.
Read this very carefully: You are not giving up anything by quitting tobacco.
The sense of loss is false and will go away soon. It took a couple of weeks for me but looking back from 74 days into my quit that's NOTHING.
I'm also a parent in my 30's - used cope 12+ years. About a week into my quit, it occurred to me that I'm going to live to see my daughter grow up! I'm going to get to know my daughter longer than I've known tobacco! Think about that - no more anxiety about how your family is going to survive after you die of cancer.
I see that you've made it over to the July 09 HOF group. Post up a day-2 because this is your second day off of nicotine. If you can't figure out how to post roll call through the fog, just post your name and the quit day you're on, and someone will add you to the list. Or follow this link (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=50) to learn how to post roll. When you post, you're giving your promise not to use tobacco or nicotine in any form today. Keep your promise, then come back tomorrow and do it again.
One last thing: DO NOT take out your rage on those around you. Come here and take it out on us. We like it.
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For those of us who have been on the can for 15+ years, I suppose it does come down to quitting or dying. I don't feel like dying, so quitting is my only option.
A long time ago, I told myself that it would suck to be in my 30s, still dipping, dying of cancer. Well, now I'm in my 30s. I don't have cancer, and I am not dying. That's good. I owe it to whoever or whatever to stop pushing my fucking luck. I need to get ahead of this before it kills me.
And you know what I try to keep in mind? As depressing as it is to think of a world without tobacco (and by God...the sense of loss I get when trying to quit is vicious), it's much more depressing to think about saying goodbye to my one-year-old.
Anyway, I run the risk of blabbing because this is the first time I have tried to quit in more than three years, and this is day three for me. (I spent day one on the patch, but I went pure nicotine-free yesterday.) Needless to say, I barely know where I am right now. I am plowed with withdrawal. I could very easily verbally assault and bring to tears anyone who comes near me, and afterward demolish this office building with my bare hands and teeth. I think I WOULD like to do that, actually.
Yep. That's pretty much it. Quit or die.
I'm day 4. Welcome to hell. Of course you already know that.
Don't worry about blabbing. Blab all you fucking want. These guys don't care. Go to the chat room too. Blab there. Curse, scream, yell. Hell I threatened to burn down an orphanage this morning for a fucking chew.
My brother sent me this email this morning when I told him I had survived another day:
It would suck for you to give up now...
Want me to call you a pansy ass for the rest of your life? Or would you rather be able to annoy the hell out of me by saying shit like, "you know you really should quit that, look at what I did"....
Yeah. I think I'll choose to annoy the shit out of my brother (who smokes like a train).
My father died from prostate cancer when he was 57.
My mother died from breast cancer when she was 62.
I'm 44 and I been chewing for over 20 years. You do the math...
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For those of us who have been on the can for 15+ years, I suppose it does come down to quitting or dying. I don't feel like dying, so quitting is my only option.
A long time ago, I told myself that it would suck to be in my 30s, still dipping, dying of cancer. Well, now I'm in my 30s. I don't have cancer, and I am not dying. That's good. I owe it to whoever or whatever to stop pushing my fucking luck. I need to get ahead of this before it kills me.
And you know what I try to keep in mind? As depressing as it is to think of a world without tobacco (and by God...the sense of loss I get when trying to quit is vicious), it's much more depressing to think about saying goodbye to my one-year-old.
Anyway, I run the risk of blabbing because this is the first time I have tried to quit in more than three years, and this is day three for me. (I spent day one on the patch, but I went pure nicotine-free yesterday.) Needless to say, I barely know where I am right now. I am plowed with withdrawal. I could very easily verbally assault and bring to tears anyone who comes near me, and afterward demolish this office building with my bare hands and teeth. I think I WOULD like to do that, actually.
Yep. That's pretty much it. Quit or die.
I'm day 4. Welcome to hell. Of course you already know that.
Don't worry about blabbing. Blab all you fucking want. These guys don't care. Go to the chat room too. Blab there. Curse, scream, yell. Hell I threatened to burn down an orphanage this morning for a fucking chew.
My brother sent me this email this morning when I told him I had survived another day:
It would suck for you to give up now...
Want me to call you a pansy ass for the rest of your life? Or would you rather be able to annoy the hell out of me by saying shit like, "you know you really should quit that, look at what I did"....
Yeah. I think I'll choose to annoy the shit out of my brother (who smokes like a train).
My father died from prostate cancer when he was 57.
My mother died from breast cancer when she was 62.
I'm 44 and I been chewing for over 20 years. You do the math...
Welcome Dean!!!!
Here are some links that may help...
Your quit group is July 09... here ....
index.php?showtopic=2251 (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=2251)
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Roll call, why we do it your word by LOOT.
index.php?showtopic=120 (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=120)
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=
A how to get started by Remy:
index.php?showtopic=1360 (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=1360)
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How to post roll.
index.php?showtopic=50 (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=50)
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
How to Post ROLL CALL - Roll Call Instructions
Step 1 - Find the last Roll Call
Step 2 - Hit the "Quote" button in the upper right hand corner.
Step 3 - Click your mouse ANYWHERE in The bottom Box
Step 4 - Hit Ctrl and "A" at the Same time so it looks like THIS
Step 5 - Hit Ctrl and "X" at the same time so there is NOTHING in Either Box
Step 6 - Click your mouse in the TOP BOX
Step 7 - Hit Ctrl and "V" at the same time to Past the info into the top box AND ADD YOUR info to the bottom of the list
Step 8 - Hit ADD REPLY below the bottom box
Step 9 - Go back to the 1st unread post, pat yourself on the back, and have a beer cause you will not be dipping today.
If you need anything else, give me a shout
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For those of us who have been on the can for 15+ years, I suppose it does come down to quitting or dying. I don't feel like dying, so quitting is my only option.
A long time ago, I told myself that it would suck to be in my 30s, still dipping, dying of cancer. Well, now I'm in my 30s. I don't have cancer, and I am not dying. That's good. I owe it to whoever or whatever to stop pushing my fucking luck. I need to get ahead of this before it kills me.
And you know what I try to keep in mind? As depressing as it is to think of a world without tobacco (and by God...the sense of loss I get when trying to quit is vicious), it's much more depressing to think about saying goodbye to my one-year-old.
Anyway, I run the risk of blabbing because this is the first time I have tried to quit in more than three years, and this is day three for me. (I spent day one on the patch, but I went pure nicotine-free yesterday.) Needless to say, I barely know where I am right now. I am plowed with withdrawal. I could very easily verbally assault and bring to tears anyone who comes near me, and afterward demolish this office building with my bare hands and teeth. I think I WOULD like to do that, actually.
Yep. That's pretty much it. Quit or die.
I'm day 4. Welcome to hell. Of course you already know that.
Don't worry about blabbing. Blab all you fucking want. These guys don't care. Go to the chat room too. Blab there. Curse, scream, yell. Hell I threatened to burn down an orphanage this morning for a fucking chew.
My brother sent me this email this morning when I told him I had survived another day:
It would suck for you to give up now...
Want me to call you a pansy ass for the rest of your life? Or would you rather be able to annoy the hell out of me by saying shit like, "you know you really should quit that, look at what I did"....
Yeah. I think I'll choose to annoy the shit out of my brother (who smokes like a train).
My father died from prostate cancer when he was 57.
My mother died from breast cancer when she was 62.
I'm 44 and I been chewing for over 20 years. You do the math...
Welcome Dean!!!!
Here are some links that may help...
Your quit group is July 09... here ....
index.php?showtopic=2251 (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=2251)
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Roll call, why we do it your word by LOOT.
index.php?showtopic=120 (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=120)
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=
A how to get started by Remy:
index.php?showtopic=1360 (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=1360)
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=+
How to post roll.
index.php?showtopic=50 (http://forum.killthecan.org/index.php?showtopic=50)
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
How to Post ROLL CALL - Roll Call Instructions
Step 1 - Find the last Roll Call
Step 2 - Hit the "Quote" button in the upper right hand corner.
Step 3 - Click your mouse ANYWHERE in The bottom Box
Step 4 - Hit Ctrl and "A" at the Same time so it looks like THIS
Step 5 - Hit Ctrl and "X" at the same time so there is NOTHING in Either Box
Step 6 - Click your mouse in the TOP BOX
Step 7 - Hit Ctrl and "V" at the same time to Past the info into the top box AND ADD YOUR info to the bottom of the list
Step 8 - Hit ADD REPLY below the bottom box
Step 9 - Go back to the 1st unread post, pat yourself on the back, and have a beer cause you will not be dipping today.
If you need anything else, give me a shout
Very friendly and helpful. I appreciate it. And I'll figure out roll-call soon.
This is only day two for me? It's a nicotine-free measurement? Not that it matters, but I have to say: patch or no patch, a day without dip should count for something. For sure. Like, maybe a quarter-day? Or fifteen minutes?
Yes. It is settled. I am on day two plus seven minutes.
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Very friendly and helpful. I appreciate it. And I'll figure out roll-call soon.
This is only day two for me? It's a nicotine-free measurement? Not that it matters, but I have to say: patch or no patch, a day without dip should count for something. For sure. Like, maybe a quarter-day? Or fifteen minutes?
Yes. It is settled. I am on day two plus seven minutes.
This is something that comes up quite often...
Here's my opinion (for what it's worth).
If you're using NRT as prescribed then feel free to post roll.
If you're using NRT as a crave killer then you're still hooked and you should post a day 1.
The idea here is to be nicotine free cause that's the bitch that we're fighting against. That said, I have no problem with day 2 + 7 minutes ;)
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Very friendly and helpful. I appreciate it. And I'll figure out roll-call soon.
This is only day two for me? It's a nicotine-free measurement? Not that it matters, but I have to say: patch or no patch, a day without dip should count for something. For sure. Like, maybe a quarter-day? Or fifteen minutes?
Yes. It is settled. I am on day two plus seven minutes.
This is something that comes up quite often...
Here's my opinion (for what it's worth).
If you're using NRT as prescribed then feel free to post roll.
If you're using NRT as a crave killer then you're still hooked and you should post a day 1.
The idea here is to be nicotine free cause that's the bitch that we're fighting against. That said, I have no problem with day 2 + 7 minutes ;)
I did one day of NRC, simply because I know that 500 days of NRC doesn't make day one of no nicotine any goddamn better. So why put it off?
Actually, I keep trying to write all sorts of things, but they keep getting twisted. So, I might as well just stop trying to make sense.
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Very friendly and helpful. I appreciate it. And I'll figure out roll-call soon.
This is only day two for me? It's a nicotine-free measurement? Not that it matters, but I have to say: patch or no patch, a day without dip should count for something. For sure. Like, maybe a quarter-day? Or fifteen minutes?
Yes. It is settled. I am on day two plus seven minutes.
This is something that comes up quite often...
Here's my opinion (for what it's worth).
If you're using NRT as prescribed then feel free to post roll.
If you're using NRT as a crave killer then you're still hooked and you should post a day 1.
The idea here is to be nicotine free cause that's the bitch that we're fighting against. That said, I have no problem with day 2 + 7 minutes ;)
I did one day of NRC, simply because I know that 500 days of NRC doesn't make day one of no nicotine any goddamn better. So why put it off?
Actually, I keep trying to write all sorts of things, but they keep getting twisted. So, I might as well just stop trying to make sense.
Good decision Dean! My wife bought me a box of nic gum when I announced I was going to quit. After reading about it, I realized it was the nicotene that I needed to quit and by doing gum it was just going to prolong my quit. I nver used the stuff and survived, you can do it too!!!!
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Very friendly and helpful. I appreciate it. And I'll figure out roll-call soon.
This is only day two for me? It's a nicotine-free measurement? Not that it matters, but I have to say: patch or no patch, a day without dip should count for something. For sure. Like, maybe a quarter-day? Or fifteen minutes?
Yes. It is settled. I am on day two plus seven minutes.
This is something that comes up quite often...
Here's my opinion (for what it's worth).
If you're using NRT as prescribed then feel free to post roll.
If you're using NRT as a crave killer then you're still hooked and you should post a day 1.
The idea here is to be nicotine free cause that's the bitch that we're fighting against. That said, I have no problem with day 2 + 7 minutes ;)
I did one day of NRC, simply because I know that 500 days of NRC doesn't make day one of no nicotine any goddamn better. So why put it off?
Actually, I keep trying to write all sorts of things, but they keep getting twisted. So, I might as well just stop trying to make sense.
Good decision Dean! My wife bought me a box of nic gum when I announced I was going to quit. After reading about it, I realized it was the nicotene that I needed to quit and by doing gum it was just going to prolong my quit. I nver used the stuff and survived, you can do it too!!!!
I went through 12 days on the patch before stopping completely and posting day-1. Looking back on it, I think the NRT made it worse. Those 12 days were just as bad as the first four days off of nicotine; I had withdrawal symptoms the whole time.
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For those of us who have been on the can for 15+ years, I suppose it does come down to quitting or dying. I don't feel like dying, so quitting is my only option.
A long time ago, I told myself that it would suck to be in my 30s, still dipping, dying of cancer. Well, now I'm in my 30s. I don't have cancer, and I am not dying. That's good. I owe it to whoever or whatever to stop pushing my fucking luck. I need to get ahead of this before it kills me.
And you know what I try to keep in mind? As depressing as it is to think of a world without tobacco (and by God...the sense of loss I get when trying to quit is vicious), it's much more depressing to think about saying goodbye to my one-year-old.
Anyway, I run the risk of blabbing because this is the first time I have tried to quit in more than three years, and this is day three for me. (I spent day one on the patch, but I went pure nicotine-free yesterday.) Needless to say, I barely know where I am right now. I am plowed with withdrawal. I could very easily verbally assault and bring to tears anyone who comes near me, and afterward demolish this office building with my bare hands and teeth. I think I WOULD like to do that, actually.
Yeah that says it all- you got it right Dean. Feels like i lost a friend- although I know it wasnt really a friend.
Keep thinking- losing nothing!
Was in a quicky store today SKLLCM staring at me- 2 for 5.77- damn good deal
But, i walked away. WHO IS YOUR DADDY BITCH?
That felt good.
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I figure "Introductions" is as good a place as any for this message....since us July 09ers are all getting introduced.
If any of you brothers want to stay the course and nail this fucking addiction, I'm around. I need to figure out how to stay quit...this site and you guys might be the difference. I hope that's true.
SixSix210
RIP Grizzly
etc
etc
Let's use each other. And I won't even get all mad about it and call you in the middle of the night and accuse you of being a player and of fucking my friends and shit. But I would, you know? I would fuck your friends, I guess.
I am withdrawing B.A.D. Color Me BADD. Color Me TWEAKED in the brains.
Nevermind. I'm done. Hope to hear from you guys.
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I figure "Introductions" is as good a place as any for this message....since us July 09ers are all getting introduced.
If any of you brothers want to stay the course and nail this fucking addiction, I'm around. I need to figure out how to stay quit...this site and you guys might be the difference. I hope that's true.
SixSix210
RIP Grizzly
etc
etc
Let's use each other. And I won't even get all mad about it and call you in the middle of the night and accuse you of being a player and of fucking my friends and shit. But I would, you know? I would fuck your friends, I guess.
I am withdrawing B.A.D. Color Me BADD. Color Me TWEAKED in the brains.
Nevermind. I'm done. Hope to hear from you guys.
That's great but this needs to be posted over in your quit group, not in introductions.
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I want to share a simple observation with you guys: I've been doing the Smokey Mountain herbal chew. It's a good distraction. But more so, it has helped me realize that, except for the nicotine, it's no different than dip. Yeah, it's herbs vs. tobacco, but so what? Herbs and tobacco are both just chopped-up leafy shit.
THE difference, and the ONLY difference, is the nicotine.
You may say to yourself, "Dean you silly cunt, I KNOW nicotine is the difference." But hear me out: What is, or has ever been, appealing about nicotine?
Ask yourself why you started dipping in the first place. I don't know about the rest of you, but nicotine's effects never mattered to me...probably never even affected me at all, except to hook me. I didn't dip to get high. I dipped, at first, for stupid reasons: peer pressure, to seem older, because other fishermen did it, blah blah blah.
But even those reasons are long gone. Today, it's a habit. And what I'm saying is that, other than the nicotine, Smokey Mountain is a DIRECT replacement for the habit. It makes perfectly good spit and tastes shitty and gets stuck in my teeth and makes my breath smell like dog asshole. Success! Habit replaced....if I could just get around the nicotine.
Honestly, the drug is so, so, so strong. It gives you NOTHING. No buzz. No energy. No creativity. No nothing. And still it's strong enough for me to repeatedly think about caving; to think that dip is more important than living past age 40; to think that I'll cave today and quit again tomorrow.
But fuck that. I'm pretty sure there is only one reason I am going to quit and stay quit: I'm pissed off at the drug. I'm pissed off that it gives me nothing. Shit, at least alcohol made my mother-in-law tolerable.
I guess this is my introduction. Thanks for listening.
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Hey cunt is that smokey mountain stuff any better than hooch? I don't know where to find smokey mountain.
Congrats on staying quit, you're a good man for it.
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Shit, at least alcohol made my mother-in-law tolerable.
You lucky bastard, if I drank enough to make my MIL tolerable, my wife would be pissed at me for passing the fuck out.
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I want to share a simple observation with you guys: I've been doing the Smokey Mountain herbal chew. It's a good distraction. But more so, it has helped me realize that, except for the nicotine, it's no different than dip. Yeah, it's herbs vs. tobacco, but so what? Herbs and tobacco are both just chopped-up leafy shit.
THE difference, and the ONLY difference, is the nicotine.
You may say to yourself, "Dean you silly cunt, I KNOW nicotine is the difference." But hear me out: What is, or has ever been, appealing about nicotine?
Ask yourself why you started dipping in the first place. I don't know about the rest of you, but nicotine's effects never mattered to me...probably never even affected me at all, except to hook me. I didn't dip to get high. I dipped, at first, for stupid reasons: peer pressure, to seem older, because other fishermen did it, blah blah blah.
But even those reasons are long gone. Today, it's a habit. And what I'm saying is that, other than the nicotine, Smokey Mountain is a DIRECT replacement for the habit. It makes perfectly good spit and tastes shitty and gets stuck in my teeth and makes my breath smell like dog asshole. Success! Habit replaced....if I could just get around the nicotine.
Honestly, the drug is so, so, so strong. It gives you NOTHING. No buzz. No energy. No creativity. No nothing. And still it's strong enough for me to repeatedly think about caving; to think that dip is more important than living past age 40; to think that I'll cave today and quit again tomorrow.
But fuck that. I'm pretty sure there is only one reason I am going to quit and stay quit: I'm pissed off at the drug. I'm pissed off that it gives me nothing. Shit, at least alcohol made my mother-in-law tolerable.
I guess this is my introduction. Thanks for listening.
probably the best intro i've read in my 30 days here.
much needed on the worst day i've had since week 1.
thanks man
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ust25yrdonor: I'm sorry that you were having a shitty day. I hope today is better.
Roy: I was lying. My MIL is tolerable only if I am in a coma. ;)
Grizz: I've never had Hooch (unless you're talking about corn-based liquor). But Smokey Mountain is OK. I was doing the natural flavor, but I bought every can that Wal-Mart had. I then had to buy every can of wintergreen they had. The wintergreen reminds me of this stuff I dipped when I was 13...Hawken. Heavy on the molasses. Kinda tasty, actually.
Try Wal-Mart. If not, I'd bet you can order some online.
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ust25yrdonor: I'm sorry that you were having a shitty day. I hope today is better.
Roy: I was lying. My MIL is tolerable only if I am in a coma. ;)
Grizz: I've never had Hooch (unless you're talking about corn-based liquor). But Smokey Mountain is OK. I was doing the natural flavor, but I bought every can that Wal-Mart had. I then had to buy every can of wintergreen they had. The wintergreen reminds me of this stuff I dipped when I was 13...Hawken. Heavy on the molasses. Kinda tasty, actually.
Try Wal-Mart. If not, I'd bet you can order some online.
Hawken w the musket on the tin...
Remember I sweet cotton candy taste...
The fake shit isn't my gig, I can just tell that will set off a monster kodiakatack...
Fuk u kodiak
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It's clear to me now: I will stay quit because nicotine is useless. It really is. What has it ever done for me? What can it ever do for me? Nothing.
I will not cave. I CANNOT cave. If I do, I will be utterly ashamed of myself. I'll be going back to some useless bullshit. I will feel like a completely useless piece of shit myself if I cave.
I am going to completely snap away from the physical addition and withdrawal in due course. After that, I will ever remember that nicotine is a tramp. A useless fucking whore tramp that sleeps with my brother and friends and doesn't even give a good blowjob and farts on my balls when I'm shaft-deep in her bruised and battered cervix and laughs about it while beans-and-Heineken poot fills my bedroom.
I guess the rage ain't gone after day 10 ;)
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Also....your humor sucks when you're not quit. Keep at it snatchman - I need your posts!!!
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It's clear to me now: I will stay quit because nicotine is useless. It really is. What has it ever done for me? What can it ever do for me? Nothing.
I will not cave. I CANNOT cave. If I do, I will be utterly ashamed of myself. I'll be going back to some useless bullshit. I will feel like a completely useless piece of shit myself if I cave.
I am going to completely snap away from the physical addition and withdrawal in due course. After that, I will ever remember that nicotine is a tramp. A useless fucking whore tramp that sleeps with my brother and friends and doesn't even give a good blowjob and farts on my balls when I'm shaft-deep in her bruised and battered cervix and laughs about it while beans-and-Heineken poot fills my bedroom.
I guess the rage ain't gone after day 10 ;)
I found it poetic
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I've gotten a lot out of the "Introductions" section's mainstays. Regular posts from Smokey, SWJ, Bear, Dan, Wildcat and MF have entertained, assisted and enlightened me. These factors alone would inspire me to emulate my brothers here, with a quasi-blog of my own.
But a much more highly motivating factor occurred to me yesterday: I like to write. It distracts me from my workday, when I need it. If I write HERE, and get into it, I'll be that much less likely to cave. After all, I can't cave if I'm sitting here typing. Moreover, how could I cave and then come here to write? I couldn't sit in front of KTC with a fatty in my face.
So, I'll write. And it would be cool if some of the July and August brothers wanted to do the same. If so, do it here. Ruminations and musings. Haikus. Smut. Whatever.
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I agree Dean, reading the posts here inspire me to put my thoughts into words. Even if what we post about isn't relevant to other quitters at one time or another, it is in fact for me, therapeutic.
Putting thoughts to blogs, paper or whatever you put words to helps alleviate the pressures of addiction, at least for me anyway.
I enjoy reading your posts Dean and hope you inspire others to post as well, by whatever means they deem necessary. Well done my friend.
MF
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Thanks for the props, MF. Mother Fucker. Male Floozie. Most Fairylike.
Here I am, on Day 38, and my bowel movements still have not returned to normal. I am pretty much shitting every third day. I grumped Monday, and I grumped this morning. It's getting a bit out of hand.
This morning's movement was special. Since quitting, the constipation has resulted in some mighty gigantic and robusto shits, but today's really was exceptional. I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.
You can imagine that a turd of such proportions is not toilet-friendly. After squeezing out what seemed to be a Peterbilt transmission, I flushed. No dice. My crap just stood up straight like the fucking Titanic and twisted in the bowl. I tried again, to no avail.
I couldn't just walk away from this mess. It wouldn't have been ethical. Because honestly, the next guy who sat down - if he didn't look - would have gotten my log right up his asshole.
I cleaned up and crept quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and into the offices. I spied a pencil on one of the marketing girl's desks. I swiped it and returned to the bathroom.
Chop chop chop chop...With the pencil, I broke my megapoo into seven or eight manageable pieces and flushed. The grump chunks, defeated, swirled into the sewer.
One interesting observation: I probably should have used the eraser end of the pencil. As it turned out, I drew all over the porcelain while playing ninja with my poop.
And what to do with the shitty pencil? I opted to wipe it clean and put it back on the girl's desk. That'll teach her to take my yogurt from the break room fridge.
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Dean u are a sick skunky cunt, a skunt, one would say....
Do yourself a favor, eat nothing but 2 spaghetti squashes for dinner, and take tommorow off. If that doesn't work u need a shit sack frilled into ur mid section....
Fuckyoukodiak!!!!
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I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.(Quoted by Dean)
We would call that a Corn Back BOA
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Thanks for the props, MF. Mother Fucker. Male Floozie. Most Fairylike.
Here I am, on Day 38, and my bowel movements still have not returned to normal. I am pretty much shitting every third day. I grumped Monday, and I grumped this morning. It's getting a bit out of hand.
This morning's movement was special. Since quitting, the constipation has resulted in some mighty gigantic and robusto shits, but today's really was exceptional. I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.
You can imagine that a turd of such proportions is not toilet-friendly. After squeezing out what seemed to be a Peterbilt transmission, I flushed. No dice. My crap just stood up straight like the fucking Titanic and twisted in the bowl. I tried again, to no avail.
I couldn't just walk away from this mess. It wouldn't have been ethical. Because honestly, the next guy who sat down - if he didn't look - would have gotten my log right up his asshole.
I cleaned up and crept quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and into the offices. I spied a pencil on one of the marketing girl's desks. I swiped it and returned to the bathroom.
Chop chop chop chop...With the pencil, I broke my megapoo into seven or eight manageable pieces and flushed. The grump chunks, defeated, swirled into the sewer.
One interesting observation: I probably should have used the eraser end of the pencil. As it turned out, I drew all over the porcelain while playing ninja with my poop.
And what to do with the shitty pencil? I opted to wipe it clean and put it back on the girl's desk. That'll teach her to take my yogurt from the break room fridge.
No joke Dean, buy glycerin suspositories. They work. And the joy of it all, you get to stick your finger up your ass. I know you will enjoy it.
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Thanks for the props, MF. Mother Fucker. Male Floozie. Most Fairylike.
Here I am, on Day 38, and my bowel movements still have not returned to normal. I am pretty much shitting every third day. I grumped Monday, and I grumped this morning. It's getting a bit out of hand.
This morning's movement was special. Since quitting, the constipation has resulted in some mighty gigantic and robusto shits, but today's really was exceptional. I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.
You can imagine that a turd of such proportions is not toilet-friendly. After squeezing out what seemed to be a Peterbilt transmission, I flushed. No dice. My crap just stood up straight like the fucking Titanic and twisted in the bowl. I tried again, to no avail.
I couldn't just walk away from this mess. It wouldn't have been ethical. Because honestly, the next guy who sat down - if he didn't look - would have gotten my log right up his asshole.
I cleaned up and crept quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and into the offices. I spied a pencil on one of the marketing girl's desks. I swiped it and returned to the bathroom.
Chop chop chop chop...With the pencil, I broke my megapoo into seven or eight manageable pieces and flushed. The grump chunks, defeated, swirled into the sewer.
One interesting observation: I probably should have used the eraser end of the pencil. As it turned out, I drew all over the porcelain while playing ninja with my poop.
And what to do with the shitty pencil? I opted to wipe it clean and put it back on the girl's desk. That'll teach her to take my yogurt from the break room fridge.
This is pure fucking brilliance!!! Might I suggest copying and pasting this in every board?? 'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup'
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Thanks for the props, MF. Mother Fucker. Male Floozie. Most Fairylike.
Here I am, on Day 38, and my bowel movements still have not returned to normal. I am pretty much shitting every third day. I grumped Monday, and I grumped this morning. It's getting a bit out of hand.
This morning's movement was special. Since quitting, the constipation has resulted in some mighty gigantic and robusto shits, but today's really was exceptional. I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.
You can imagine that a turd of such proportions is not toilet-friendly. After squeezing out what seemed to be a Peterbilt transmission, I flushed. No dice. My crap just stood up straight like the fucking Titanic and twisted in the bowl. I tried again, to no avail.
I couldn't just walk away from this mess. It wouldn't have been ethical. Because honestly, the next guy who sat down - if he didn't look - would have gotten my log right up his asshole.
I cleaned up and crept quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and into the offices. I spied a pencil on one of the marketing girl's desks. I swiped it and returned to the bathroom.
Chop chop chop chop...With the pencil, I broke my megapoo into seven or eight manageable pieces and flushed. The grump chunks, defeated, swirled into the sewer.
One interesting observation: I probably should have used the eraser end of the pencil. As it turned out, I drew all over the porcelain while playing ninja with my poop.
And what to do with the shitty pencil? I opted to wipe it clean and put it back on the girl's desk. That'll teach her to take my yogurt from the break room fridge.
This is pure fucking brilliance!!! Might I suggest copying and pasting this in every board?? 'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup'
Oatmeal, spinach and a banana, I plop 2 doogs/day!
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Fiberous shit stalk
Stands erect and towering
Awaiting the next -
There is no rectal return
A pencil chops it away
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HA! Whooooooa, Nelly. *bar is raised*
Goddamn, that's funny. A to the Motherfuckin K, Smokey.
I knew someone wouldn't be able to resist the call to haiku.
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U FUCKS MAKE ME SICK
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Dean - you're a janitor's worst nightmare.........I don't actually believe you would destroy a masterpiece like that. I'm guessing you remove all the soiled paper accessible from the bowl
so this great beast is as naked as possible and somehow manage to prop that stall door open so when your fellow co-workers walk by, they're just compelled to take a moment to bask in the ambience.
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Dan...VERY keen observations and possibilities. I think I'm just gonna shit on the bathroom floor next time.
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Sorry for the interruption... this stuff is GREAT! In fact, it reminds me of a discussion that we had in my group (October 06) a LONG time ago... enjoy!
~* Post From The Past *~
the great bidet debate
Seriously though, invest into one of these babies; you'll wonder how you ever lived without one:
http://www.sandman.com/intimst.html (http://www.sandman.com/intimst.html)
Wow. The interesting shit I learn on here never ceases to amaze me. Shep, do you really have one of these?
I don't think I'd ever get off the toilet! :P
I didn't say I wasn't doing it, just not getting it done as well (OOOH that's even worse isn't it!!! :blink: ) It just takes some extra work some additional supplies(OK, I'll stop now :blink: ).
Seriously tho, you own one of these Shep?
Stacy,
I damn sure do and am not embarassed to talk about it or show it off to guests. I was stationed in Panama and my wife wanted one. We got it and my life ass haven't been the same since. Women love them because most of the bidet seats have a nozzle for "lady parts". The seats come with every possible feature you can imagine from fans to preheated water. Ours is a cheap-o that just sprays water on the a-hole and who-whos. They get their water source by screwing on a T-fitting onto the inlet source from the wall. Nothing special is needed. It's easy to clean too.
More questions? PM me so it doesn't get lost in the shuffle.
Shep
Do you let interested friends come over and take a crap at your house?
Maybe we could do the Cohesive Reunion in your town, or you could bring it to the hotel in Vegas!
Seriously, it kinda sounds like it might run poopy water over the back of your balls!
Note-if you're a newbie, this message is the type of support you can expect by coming to this site. Not for weak stomachs.
Steve-O, I have to compliment you on your mastery of the laws of physics. I haven't noticed any chaffing as a result of do-do being sprayed on the undercarriage of my ballsack. I typically rock my ass cheeks to ensure the pink ring gets full saturation; similar to pointing left then right with your lips. ItÂ’s not a pleasing visual but when I wipe, itÂ’s always clean. Before I got the seat, I was intimidated by a case of the shits. Now, I welcome the challenge. IÂ’m able to stand tall and know thereÂ’s no case of diarrhea that will cause me to grow timid. Wiping after a weekend of dropping ass, where you eventually turn your anus into matchbook paper, is a thing of the past. An unrelated bonus, the seat lid doesnÂ’t encumber on a after-shit masturbation session.
Here's my exact model: Panasonic DL-T10 (http://www.panasonicappliances.com/p-bidet.html)
:lol: :lol: :lol: Equally masterful Shep!!! :lol: :lol: :lol:
This topic of conversation is destined to become an instant classic.
I have actually used one of these during a visit to Japan. They really work!
Just like your signature says Russter..."As iron sharpens iron.."
Thought I would stop by and check on the "Units" ...
I see you are bored as hell and resorting to desperate measures to keeping your faces smack-free. :blink:
This thread is absolutely beautiful!!!!
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Sorry for the interruption... this stuff is GREAT! In fact, it reminds me of a discussion that we had in my group (October 06) a LONG time ago... enjoy!
~* Post From The Past *~
the great bidet debate
Seriously though, invest into one of these babies; you'll wonder how you ever lived without one:
http://www.sandman.com/intimst.html (http://www.sandman.com/intimst.html)
Wow. The interesting shit I learn on here never ceases to amaze me. Shep, do you really have one of these?
I don't think I'd ever get off the toilet! :P
I didn't say I wasn't doing it, just not getting it done as well (OOOH that's even worse isn't it!!! :blink: ) It just takes some extra work some additional supplies(OK, I'll stop now :blink: ).
Seriously tho, you own one of these Shep?
Stacy,
I damn sure do and am not embarassed to talk about it or show it off to guests. I was stationed in Panama and my wife wanted one. We got it and my life ass haven't been the same since. Women love them because most of the bidet seats have a nozzle for "lady parts". The seats come with every possible feature you can imagine from fans to preheated water. Ours is a cheap-o that just sprays water on the a-hole and who-whos. They get their water source by screwing on a T-fitting onto the inlet source from the wall. Nothing special is needed. It's easy to clean too.
More questions? PM me so it doesn't get lost in the shuffle.
Shep
Do you let interested friends come over and take a crap at your house?
Maybe we could do the Cohesive Reunion in your town, or you could bring it to the hotel in Vegas!
Seriously, it kinda sounds like it might run poopy water over the back of your balls!
Note-if you're a newbie, this message is the type of support you can expect by coming to this site. Not for weak stomachs.
Steve-O, I have to compliment you on your mastery of the laws of physics. I haven't noticed any chaffing as a result of do-do being sprayed on the undercarriage of my ballsack. I typically rock my ass cheeks to ensure the pink ring gets full saturation; similar to pointing left then right with your lips. ItÂ’s not a pleasing visual but when I wipe, itÂ’s always clean. Before I got the seat, I was intimidated by a case of the shits. Now, I welcome the challenge. IÂ’m able to stand tall and know thereÂ’s no case of diarrhea that will cause me to grow timid. Wiping after a weekend of dropping ass, where you eventually turn your anus into matchbook paper, is a thing of the past. An unrelated bonus, the seat lid doesnÂ’t encumber on a after-shit masturbation session.
Here's my exact model: Panasonic DL-T10 (http://www.panasonicappliances.com/p-bidet.html)
:lol: :lol: :lol: Equally masterful Shep!!! :lol: :lol: :lol:
This topic of conversation is destined to become an instant classic.
I have actually used one of these during a visit to Japan. They really work!
Just like your signature says Russter..."As iron sharpens iron.."
Thought I would stop by and check on the "Units" ...
I see you are bored as hell and resorting to desperate measures to keeping your faces smack-free. :blink:
This thread is absolutely beautiful!!!!
'crackup'
Thanks a lot....now I got snot on my computer screen! Fuck...I'm cryin'!
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Thanks for the thread, Chewie. VERY excellent. Gotta love the weird scenarios quitting brings and the remarkable fact that every one of us can relate to the oddities.
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too much money for something to just spray my ass with. i bet i could rig up somethings from lowes that could do the job for $40 or less.
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I wouldn't necessarily call it a miracle, but it surely is GODLY that I maintained my quit over the past three days. Yes, I AM A FUCKING GOD.
And it's a very odd situation: I feel quite proud of myself and what I've accomplished thus far, but I am also deeply entrenched in a colossal quit funk. (Many of us discussed this in another thread last week.) I am in this unique, microcosmic manic-depressive state. It's a millisecond-to-millisecond experience. At one instant, I feel intoxicating bliss. The next moment, my guts feels twisted, and I want to either write a really sad, shitty poem or kill someone with my bare hands.
All I know is that I have been under immense stress for the past several weeks, and particularly the past three days. But I did not cave. How or why I didn't, I have no idea. But I didn't, and I am a fucking god. Those who cave are fucking zeroes. Fuck you.
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I am in this unique, microcosmic manic-depressive state. It's a millisecond-to-millisecond experience. At one instant, I feel intoxicating bliss. The next moment, my guts feels twisted, and I want to either write a really sad, shitty poem or kill someone with my bare hands.
Dude, just to let you know, this is exactly how I have felt lately.
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Oh, it really, really helps to know that, pal. It's sick and twisted, but it helps to know that I am not the only one out there who has, science says, overcome a physical addiction yet continues to FREAK OUT because of the habit and psychological / emotional matters.
I hate nicotine desperately.
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Oh, it really, really helps to know that, pal. It's sick and twisted, but it helps to know that I am not the only one out there who has, science says, overcome a physical addiction yet continues to FREAK OUT because of the habit and psychological / emotional matters.
I hate nicotine desperately.
yeah....lock up the guns and stay away from sharp objects for a few days.....
fuckin sucks to have the reality of addiction slap you upside the head doesn't it? I never knew how much control over every dam aspect of my life that i had given to my addiction. from decision making to how i felt to my moods, to dealing with problems/people/family/kids etc....
couldn't do any of that shit without cope.....
trust me.....when you break on thru to the other side....the sense of self control/pride you will have makes all the shitty days worthwhile....
Fuck you cope/Fuck you nicotine/Fuck you you fucking addiction.......
make sure you got some numbers....you want mine, pm me and let me know. Always good to talk to a brother quitter.....
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I am in this unique, microcosmic manic-depressive state. It's a millisecond-to-millisecond experience. At one instant, I feel intoxicating bliss. The next moment, my guts feels twisted, and I want to either write a really sad, shitty poem or kill someone with my bare hands.
Dude, just to let you know, this is exactly how I have felt lately.
X3 - Good to know I'm not alone in this. I will not cave. I won't let the bitch win.
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Well, Rob and Cubby: We have no choice but to plow through this stage and see what's next, right?
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Well, Rob and Cubby: We have no choice but to plow through this stage and see what's next, right?
x4 been there myself off and on lately. Seems like when I have down time its the worst for me.
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Well, Rob and Cubby: We have no choice but to plow through this stage and see what's next, right?
x4 been there myself off and on lately. Seems like when I have down time its the worst for me.
Same here boys.
Not really dip related though.
Tough year.
I concur, I would like to murder someone.
Two, I do admit, when I am feelin really shitty, I say, well, why not just cave.
It passes relatively quickly.
Finally, I am freakin' pissed. I took a really hard look at my gums yesterday, post surgery like i dunno, 50 days or so, and it looks like the surgery did fuckin nothing. I can still see alot of the tooth at the bottom I know i am not supposed to see.
Mother fucker.
Dean, hang in there son.
Let's all pool our money and open like a 7-11 or something. Or a go-go bar.
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Glenn: Did you get grafting done? If so, the point of such a procedure is to build up the depth/mass of the gum line; not create a new one. It prevents further gum recession. You don't get back what you've lost.
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Well, Rob and Cubby: We have no choice but to plow through this stage and see what's next, right?
x4 been there myself off and on lately. Seems like when I have down time its the worst for me.
Same here boys.
Not really dip related though.
Tough year.
I concur, I would like to murder someone.
Two, I do admit, when I am feelin really shitty, I say, well, why not just cave.
It passes relatively quickly.
Finally, I am freakin' pissed. I took a really hard look at my gums yesterday, post surgery like i dunno, 50 days or so, and it looks like the surgery did fuckin nothing. I can still see alot of the tooth at the bottom I know i am not supposed to see.
Mother fucker.
Dean, hang in there son.
Let's all pool our money and open like a 7-11 or something. Or a go-go bar.
Im down for the go-go bar
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Glenn: Did you get grafting done? If so, the point of such a procedure is to build up the depth/mass of the gum line; not create a new one. It prevents further gum recession. You don't get back what you've lost.
Well look at Mr Smarty Pants.
Serious?
I never ask the right questions.
Sounds relevant, Dr Cunt, thank you for elaborating. How did you know that?
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Glenn: I know what grafting is about because I've had the procedure. I am not a medical doctor. My true expertise is limited to knowing how to get free blowjobs from strippers and transsexuals.
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Well, Rob and Cubby: We have no choice but to plow through this stage and see what's next, right?
x4
Same here boys.
Let's all pool our money and open like a 7-11 or something. Or a go-go bar.
Im down for the go-go bar
Hmmmmm I'd like to plow through something at a go-go bar! How's that for thereapy?
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Paramahansa Yogananda was to the westernization of Eastern religious thought what L. Ron Hubbard was to the Hollywoodification of religion overall. In the 1920s, Paramahansa Yogananda began to make Hinduism cool, which paved the way for all sorts of ridiculous shit, such as American Buddhism (which is laughable, considering that these hippies are STILL scratching the herpes sores they first received in the late 1960s, thanks to hedonism run amok). Anyway...
I remember reading the yogi's "Man's Eternal Quest" in my late teens, and I was struck by how goddamn awesome he was and how much contempt I had for him - mainly because I didn't believe a word he said, and also because I was not awesome.
I was weak. I was an addict. Addicted to everything I ever touched. Paramahansa Yogananda was all about self control, and I had none.
On one hand, I tend to dismiss all things Eastern because I hate China. But on the other hand, I'd like to believe that every human is capable of really controlling himself or herself. ALL of us...without sacrificing who we are.
I bring this up because I am getting fat (in relative terms). I'm 6'1", and I usually weigh about 190. I have cracked the 200 mark (which I have not done since 2003), and I am not fucking happy about it.
I know why I've put on weight. It's obvious: I quit dipping, and the only thing that has made me feel any better is eating.
Even knowing that food will make me feel better, I still haven't eaten everything I've wanted whenever I've wanted. I still try to moderate my intake. I try to exhibit self control.
But I am starting to think that I need to do what I always do: all or nothing. I either need to get on the food wagon or get off it. I should either eat like a lowly Five Points hooker or go back to the nutrition regime I usually follow (and then some).
I'm really torn.
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Paramahansa Yogananda was to the westernization of Eastern religious thought what L. Ron Hubbard was to the Hollywoodification of religion overall. In the 1920s, Paramahansa Yogananda began to make Hinduism cool, which paved the way for all sorts of ridiculous shit, such as American Buddhism (which is laughable, considering that these hippies are STILL scratching the herpes sores they first received in the late 1960s, thanks to hedonism run amok). Anyway...
I remember reading the yogi's "Man's Eternal Quest" in my late teens, and I was struck by how goddamn awesome he was and how much contempt I had for him - mainly because I didn't believe a word he said, and also because I was not awesome.
I was weak. I was an addict. Addicted to everything I ever touched. Paramahansa Yogananda was all about self control, and I had none.
On one hand, I tend to dismiss all things Eastern because I hate China. But on the other hand, I'd like to believe that every human is capable of really controlling himself or herself. ALL of us...without sacrificing who we are.
I bring this up because I am getting fat (in relative terms). I'm 6'1", and I usually weigh about 190. I have cracked the 200 mark (which I have not done since 2003), and I am not fucking happy about it.
I know why I've put on weight. It's obvious: I quit dipping, and the only thing that has made me feel any better is eating.
Even knowing that food will make me feel better, I still haven't eaten everything I've wanted whenever I've wanted. I still try to moderate my intake. I try to exhibit self control.
But I am starting to think that I need to do what I always do: all or nothing. I either need to get on the food wagon or get off it. I should either eat like a lowly Five Points hooker or go back to the nutrition regime I usually follow (and then some).
I'm really torn.
If the strings are too loose, the instrument will not play. If the strings are too tight, they will snap. Follow the middle way.
Eat relatively healthy and take your fat ass for a run.
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Prophetic. Very good advice, of course. (Although I do run...always have.)
The problem is that I need to keep my mouth busy and...
Jesus. This site really does corner me into sounding like a homo very often. I'm just going to do what you tell me, Smokey, because you are pretty.
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Prophetic. Very good advice, of course. (Although I do run...always have.)
The problem is that I need to keep my mouth busy and...
Jesus. This site really does corner me into sounding like a homo very often. I'm just going to do what you tell me, Smokey, because you are pretty.
I am starting to wonder....
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This is the last 26 seconds of cockpit transcript from that commuter plane that went down, killing 50, in Buffalo in February.
I am completely unsettled right now.
22:16:26 Cockpit Area Microphone (CAM): (sound similar to flap handle movement)
22:16:26 First Officer Rebecca Shaw: uhhh.
22:16:27 CAM: (sound similar to stick shaker lasting 6.7 seconds)
22:16:27 Flight Crew Audio Panel: (sound similar to autopilot disconnect horn, repeats until end of recording)
22:16:27 CAM: (sound of click)
22:16:31 CAM: (sound similar to increase in engine power)
22:16:34 Captain Marvin Renslow: Jesus Christ.
22:16:35 CAM: (sound similar to stick shaker lasting until end of recording)
22:16:37 Shaw: I put the flaps up.
22:16:40 CAM: (sound of two clicks)
22:16:42 Renslow: (sound of grunt) (unintelligible) -ther bear.
22:16:45 Shaw: Should the gear up?
22:16:46 Renslow: Gear up... oh [expletive].
22:16:50 CAM: (increase in ambient noise)
22:16:51.9 Renslow: We're down.
22:16:51.9 CAM: (sound of thump)
22:16:52.0 Shaw: We're (sound of scream)
End of cockpit voice recording
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How was your road trip? Did housekeeping tip you for not leaving spitters around?
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Justin...MY trip? Last week? If so, how did you know about it? When the hell did I mention it when you were around?
Wasn't a road trip, though. Regular pain-in-the-ass plane trip.
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This is the last 26 seconds of cockpit transcript from that commuter plane that went down, killing 50, in Buffalo in February.
I am completely unsettled right now.
22:16:26 Cockpit Area Microphone (CAM): (sound similar to flap handle movement)
22:16:26 First Officer Rebecca Shaw: uhhh.
22:16:27 CAM: (sound similar to stick shaker lasting 6.7 seconds)
22:16:27 Flight Crew Audio Panel: (sound similar to autopilot disconnect horn, repeats until end of recording)
22:16:27 CAM: (sound of click)
22:16:31 CAM: (sound similar to increase in engine power)
22:16:34 Captain Marvin Renslow: Jesus Christ.
22:16:35 CAM: (sound similar to stick shaker lasting until end of recording)
22:16:37 Shaw: I put the flaps up.
22:16:40 CAM: (sound of two clicks)
22:16:42 Renslow: (sound of grunt) (unintelligible) -ther bear.
22:16:45 Shaw: Should the gear up?
22:16:46 Renslow: Gear up... oh [expletive].
22:16:50 CAM: (increase in ambient noise)
22:16:51.9 Renslow: We're down.
22:16:51.9 CAM: (sound of thump)
22:16:52.0 Shaw: We're (sound of scream)
End of cockpit voice recording
I flew that same night, too, Dean, out of Newark as well. We were delayed a few hours getting out, 'cause of the wind. but I headed south to the Bahamas. Crazy thing was, I connected in Ft Lauderdale on the same fucking plane, operated by the same company, to Nassau, on the same day. Crazy right?
I read the transcripts yesterday. Very strange, and depressing.
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I connected in Ft Lauderdale on the same fucking plane, operated by the same company, to Nassau, on the same day. Crazy right?
Crazy? That's WAY beyond crazy, Glenn. That's positively fucking whacked out.
I actually had to fly to Buffalo the following week, and I was pretty stoked about it. I figured that the chances of two planes headed for the same destination could NOT crash within a week of each other. Those odds were much too high. So, I flew in comfort. I believe in numbers.
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I connected in Ft Lauderdale on the same fucking plane, operated by the same company, to Nassau, on the same day. Crazy right?
Crazy? That's WAY beyond crazy, Glenn. That's positively fucking whacked out.
I actually had to fly to Buffalo the following week, and I was pretty stoked about it. I figured that the chances of two planes headed for the same destination could NOT crash within a week of each other. Those odds were much too high. So, I flew in comfort. I believe in numbers.
I believe in that too.
I will say this. On my trip back to the Bahamas next year, which I just booked a few days ago, I booked the non-stop from Newark. fuck those little planes.
although I must say, it was very calming and relaxing when I took it to Nassau. Scary, but I had nice weather, and it was actually kinda comforting to see the pilot and co-pilot flying the plane
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Justin...MY trip? Last week? If so, how did you know about it? When the hell did I mention it when you were around?
Wasn't a road trip, though. Regular pain-in-the-ass plane trip.
I don't remember the thread you mentioned it in, but you put it out there somewhere. It resonated because I used to travel to Baltimore for work and the maids used to sneer at me for the spitters I'd leave around in the hotel rooms.
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There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
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There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
LMAO. God you are so fucking morbidly demented. But oh so entertaining.
And a quite gifted writer.
-
I've been in the same situation twice, both times I snuk out the dip and put it in her back pocket.... Yes the same skeezer never mentioned finding dog shit in her jeans...
Fuckyoukodiak!!!
-
...both times I snuk out the dip and put it in her back pocket.
Now THAT is funny.
And an FYI: It's quite possible that today might be the third day in a row that I've shit. First multi-day streak in several weeks.
-
There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
LMAO. God you are so fucking morbidly demented. But oh so entertaining.
And a quite gifted writer.
That is quite possibly the funniest, most fucked up thing I have read in a long time. Did her friends think that you threw her down on the floor in the bathroom and roll her around in some shit?
Talk about getting rode hard and put away wet!
-
The Joys Of Fatherhood
Today, my 14-month-old son was excitedly slapping his groin while getting his diaper changed. I was repeating the following, out loud, in a baby-ish voice: "You need to be very, very careful with your penis. You're being very dangerous. Very, very dangerous right now."
When I finally caught myself saying these phrases, I laughed and celebrated being a parent. With the possible exception of a visit to a Cambodian brothel, only fatherhood could have yielded those words.
-
The Joys Of Fatherhood
Today, my 14-month-old son was excitedly slapping his groin while getting his diaper changed. I was repeating the following, out loud, in a baby-ish voice: "You need to be very, very careful with your penis. You're being very dangerous. Very, very dangerous right now."
When I finally caught myself saying these phrases, I laughed and celebrated being a parent. With the possible exception of a visit to a Cambodian brothel, only fatherhood could have yielded those words.
OK, that's a great story, blah, blah, we just want to know when you become Dean the Coot?
-
The Joys Of Fatherhood
Today, my 14-month-old son was excitedly slapping his groin while getting his diaper changed. I was repeating the following, out loud, in a baby-ish voice: "You need to be very, very careful with your penis. You're being very dangerous. Very, very dangerous right now."
When I finally caught myself saying these phrases, I laughed and celebrated being a parent. With the possible exception of a visit to a Cambodian brothel, only fatherhood could have yielded those words.
OK, that's a great story, blah, blah, we just want to know when you become Dean the Coot?
I was wondering the same thing
-
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
Now THAT is some comical shit.
-
Admin asked me if I'd mind changing my moniker. 'Cunt' has an abrasive ring to it. Ain't no thing.
-
Admin asked me if I'd mind changing my moniker. 'Cunt' has an abrasive ring to it. Ain't no thing.
Reminds me of a girl I knew back in the day. She was into spiked clitoral jewelry - her cunt had an abrasive ring as well.
-
Admin asked me if I'd mind changing my moniker. 'Cunt' has an abrasive ring to it. Ain't no thing.
I was a little taken by your nickname at first, but then again I live in a PC controlled government office type of environment. Then I wondered to myself why would a male consider himself to be a cunt. It would be possible for a man to have vag-like qualities, but that probably isn't it. I decided your name came from being a pussy to the nic addiction. If that is the case I could consider myself RoyJesterTheCunt. Now you've been asked to change your name. In the name of freedom of speech you could throw a fit and refuse, but maybe you don't think of yourself as being such a pussy any more, and have been reduced to a 'coot' status. I too then would like to have my pussy status reduced and be RoyJesterTheCoot, or maybe I should come up with my own and be like RoyJesterThePuner or something. Well, congrats on hosing the bitch (nic that is). I think I'll stick with my first name but you'll always be a cunt to me.
Carry on.
-
Admin asked me if I'd mind changing my moniker. 'Cunt' has an abrasive ring to it. Ain't no thing.
I was a little taken by your nickname at first, but then again I live in a PC controlled government office type of environment. Then I wondered to myself why would a male consider himself to be a cunt. It would be possible for a man to have vag-like qualities, but that probably isn't it. I decided your name came from being a pussy to the nic addiction. If that is the case I could consider myself RoyJesterTheCunt. Now you've been asked to change your name. In the name of freedom of speech you could throw a fit and refuse, but maybe you don't think of yourself as being such a pussy any more, and have been reduced to a 'coot' status. I too then would like to have my pussy status reduced and be RoyJesterTheCoot, or maybe I should come up with my own and be like RoyJesterThePuner or something. Well, congrats on hosing the bitch (nic that is). I think I'll stick with my first name but you'll always be a cunt to me.
Carry on.
Funny happenings going on in Cuntville, KTC.
Deanthecoot sounds really gay by the way.
Deantheaxwound?
Deanthesecondbutthole?
Deanthecockport?
Anything would be better.
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Admin asked me if I'd mind changing my moniker. 'Cunt' has an abrasive ring to it. Ain't no thing.
I was a little taken by your nickname at first, but then again I live in a PC controlled government office type of environment. Then I wondered to myself why would a male consider himself to be a cunt. It would be possible for a man to have vag-like qualities, but that probably isn't it. I decided your name came from being a pussy to the nic addiction. If that is the case I could consider myself RoyJesterTheCunt. Now you've been asked to change your name. In the name of freedom of speech you could throw a fit and refuse, but maybe you don't think of yourself as being such a pussy any more, and have been reduced to a 'coot' status. I too then would like to have my pussy status reduced and be RoyJesterTheCoot, or maybe I should come up with my own and be like RoyJesterThePuner or something. Well, congrats on hosing the bitch (nic that is). I think I'll stick with my first name but you'll always be a cunt to me.
Carry on.
Funny happenings going on in Cuntville, KTC.
Deanthecoot sounds really gay by the way.
Deantheaxwound?
Deanthesecondbutthole?
Deanthecockport?
Anything would be better.
Dean: you'll always be "cunt" to us.
Now what are we going to do about all of the horribly-offended coots out there? I think your new username is unforgivably insensitive to coots. How can you live with yourself?
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Admin asked me if I'd mind changing my moniker. 'Cunt' has an abrasive ring to it. Ain't no thing.
abrasive? what ya fuckin' the scab queen...........
fukukodiak
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Admin asked me if I'd mind changing my moniker. 'Cunt' has an abrasive ring to it. Ain't no thing.
Personally I'm offended by "Coot" That's just going overboard in this upstanding, and might I add "proper" community.
I find it a bit odd the admins would want to De-CUNT your name after a couple months and a couple hundred posts.
I have a couple ideas.......but I'd probably be asking for trouble
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Admin asked me if I'd mind changing my moniker. 'Cunt' has an abrasive ring to it. Ain't no thing.
I was a little taken by your nickname at first, but then again I live in a PC controlled government office type of environment. Then I wondered to myself why would a male consider himself to be a cunt. It would be possible for a man to have vag-like qualities, but that probably isn't it. I decided your name came from being a pussy to the nic addiction. If that is the case I could consider myself RoyJesterTheCunt. Now you've been asked to change your name. In the name of freedom of speech you could throw a fit and refuse, but maybe you don't think of yourself as being such a pussy any more, and have been reduced to a 'coot' status. I too then would like to have my pussy status reduced and be RoyJesterTheCoot, or maybe I should come up with my own and be like RoyJesterThePuner or something. Well, congrats on hosing the bitch (nic that is). I think I'll stick with my first name but you'll always be a cunt to me.
Carry on.
Funny happenings going on in Cuntville, KTC.
Deanthecoot sounds really gay by the way.
Deantheaxwound?
Deanthesecondbutthole?
Deanthecockport?
Anything would be better.
DeanTheSpamPurse
DeanTheTwat
DeanTheVagina
DeanTheSpazHole
DeanThePussy
DeanTheMuff
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Roy: I originally used 'DeanTheCunt' only because 'Dean' was taken when I registered. I was on Day 2 at the time, and feeling quite like killing and eating someone. I just typed 'TheCunt' on my second attempt to register, and it was NOT taken (no surprise there).
So, no metaphor was intended, unfortunately. I was not feeling ironic or creative on Day 2.
And I am not worried about freedom of speech. I had no problem changing the name, simply because I wasn't attached to it in the first place. Moreover, I don't *really* want to offend anyone...not with my name, at least.
I hate Asians.
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Roy: I originally used 'DeanTheCunt' only because 'Dean' was taken when I registered. I was on Day 2 at the time, and feeling quite like killing and eating someone. I just typed 'TheCunt' on my second attempt to register, and it was NOT taken (no surprise there).
So, no metaphor was intended, unfortunately. I was not feeling ironic or creative on Day 2.
And I am not worried about freedom of speech. I had no problem changing the name, simply because I wasn't attached to it in the first place. Moreover, I don't *really* want to offend anyone...not with my name, at least.
I hate Asians.
I sometimes enjoy the fact that a lot of thought can be put into something created with no thought at all, I'll explain. I was able to ramble on and on about your name and how it could have been created. I'm sure other people could have joined in with their own ideas and thoughts on the subject. But, when it comes down to it it was all the fog. So, now I must wait and see what other options we can come up with for the change in your name.
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Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
If memory serves me correctly, the only scum bag from NJ is you.
Meet me at the winner's circle tomorrow, 7th race.
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
If memory serves me correctly, the only scum bag from NJ is you.
Meet me at the winner's circle tomorrow, 7th race.
Nice........gotta' love that Garden State pride
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
If memory serves me correctly, the only scum bag from NJ is you.
Meet me at the winner's circle tomorrow, 7th race.
Nice........gotta' love that Garden State pride
Just don't tell me you love Springsteen and have seen him 36 times.
You coming? Blueclaw is gonna get us on the infield....my Pop's horse has no shot, but he might be good for 2nd.
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
If memory serves me correctly, the only scum bag from NJ is you.
Meet me at the winner's circle tomorrow, 7th race.
Nice........gotta' love that Garden State pride
Just don't tell me you love Springsteen and have seen him 36 times.
You coming? Blueclaw is gonna get us on the infield....my Pop's horse has no shot, but he might be good for 2nd.
Sounds like a good time Glenn, unfortunately I'm chained up with commitments.....and Springsteen blows...not that terrible, but I'm spending nada on him
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
If memory serves me correctly, the only scum bag from NJ is you.
Meet me at the winner's circle tomorrow, 7th race.
Nice........gotta' love that Garden State pride
Just don't tell me you love Springsteen and have seen him 36 times.
You coming? Blueclaw is gonna get us on the infield....my Pop's horse has no shot, but he might be good for 2nd.
Sounds like a good time Glenn, unfortunately I'm chained up with commitments.....and Springsteen blows...not that terrible, but I'm spending nada on him
aegh, dunno bout that i was engaged to a jersey scumbag, shed actually let me dip during bjs.. thats y i didnt marry her........ connecticut colleges are a dumping ground for jersey scum.... no offense to anybody living in New Jovi
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
If memory serves me correctly, the only scum bag from NJ is you.
Meet me at the winner's circle tomorrow, 7th race.
Nice........gotta' love that Garden State pride
Just don't tell me you love Springsteen and have seen him 36 times.
You coming? Blueclaw is gonna get us on the infield....my Pop's horse has no shot, but he might be good for 2nd.
Sounds like a good time Glenn, unfortunately I'm chained up with commitments.....and Springsteen blows...not that terrible, but I'm spending nada on him
aegh, dunno bout that i was engaged to a jersey scumbag, shed actually let me dip during bjs.. thats y i didnt marry her........ connecticut colleges are a dumping ground for jersey scum.... no offense to anybody living in New Jovi
No shit. I went to the University of Hartford. Oye.
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
If memory serves me correctly, the only scum bag from NJ is you.
Meet me at the winner's circle tomorrow, 7th race.
Nice........gotta' love that Garden State pride
Just don't tell me you love Springsteen and have seen him 36 times.
You coming? Blueclaw is gonna get us on the infield....my Pop's horse has no shot, but he might be good for 2nd.
Sounds like a good time Glenn, unfortunately I'm chained up with commitments.....and Springsteen blows...not that terrible, but I'm spending nada on him
aegh, dunno bout that i was engaged to a jersey scumbag, shed actually let me dip during bjs.. thats y i didnt marry her........ connecticut colleges are a dumping ground for jersey scum.... no offense to anybody living in New Jovi
No shit. I went to the University of Hartford. Oye.
UHA HERE 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-
Assassin Slays Pop Idol
If I have to look at that disgusting British cunt Susan Boyle against my will one more time, I am going to fucking snap.
I just want to see how the ponies fared at Aqueduct last night. That's all. Numbers. But I click the page and see that wench's fat, ugly ass.
My kindergarten teach had a GREAT voice. But guess what? She was gross and, hence, NOT a pop idol. She had the skin of a dead beached porpoise and smelled like sweat and onions. She was not a star. For good reason. Susan Boyle needs to walk back to her fucking village and AWAY from my goddamn Internet.
She's not an Idol.
But she has Talent.
No?
Come to Monmouth Park with me tomorrow, my father's horse is racing in the 7th race. Beers, betting, and no ugly British.
Monmouth Park????
Are you a Jersey scum bag FTKodiak?
If memory serves me correctly, the only scum bag from NJ is you.
Meet me at the winner's circle tomorrow, 7th race.
Nice........gotta' love that Garden State pride
Just don't tell me you love Springsteen and have seen him 36 times.
You coming? Blueclaw is gonna get us on the infield....my Pop's horse has no shot, but he might be good for 2nd.
Sounds like a good time Glenn, unfortunately I'm chained up with commitments.....and Springsteen blows...not that terrible, but I'm spending nada on him
aegh, dunno bout that i was engaged to a jersey scumbag, shed actually let me dip during bjs.. thats y i didnt marry her........ connecticut colleges are a dumping ground for jersey scum.... no offense to anybody living in New Jovi
No shit. I went to the University of Hartford. Oye.
UHA HERE 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This makes me want to move to Jersey. :)
-
Below are portions of a PM I sent to one of my brothers today. I'm posting it here, for myself, for posterity. (The PM functionality on this site is not too robust, so I would have lost this PM after sending it.)
I think we need to face this shit head-on, all the time. I think we need to constantly remind ourselves that we are addicts. Why? Because if people like you and me forget that WE CANNOT DO MODERATION, we're gonna cave. It's fucking inevitable. A year from now, we'll just have a dip. We'll think we're cured and that we can have a few dips here and there. And then we'll be back to 2 tins a day. Almost no doubt about it, man.
Now, I think the problem is assigning some absolutely negative connotation to "addict." I believe some of us feel like lowly pieces of shit because we are addicts. I say no.
You'd be a lowly piece of shit ONLY if you didn't try to change your behavior.
It's bad to be an addict if you're still abusing your addictive medium (whether dip, cigarettes, booze, cocaine, glue, food, sex, gambling, TV, church, exercise, anything)
It's bad to be an addict only if your use of that medium is fucking up your life and the lives around you.
It's bad to be an addict if you let that medium control you.
It's GOOD to be an addict if YOU CONTROL that medium. Why? Because you'll always be in a position to compare the life you now lead (nicotine-free, in our case) versus the life you used to lead (slave to nicotine). Invariably, we will be empowered by controlling that very, very, very strong temptation. We will feel like the slavedriver, dig?
Like, don't you feel GOOD ruling this shit? As hard as it still is to go through some days, even at Day 70, isn't it fucking awesome to OWN this fucking addiction and to be fucking nicotine in the ass?
I'm basically just pointing out that I have made it this far because KTC has reminded me that MODERATION IS IMPOSSIBLE. It has reminded me to focus on the quit. It has reminded me to value the quit. It reminds of these things even when I am in the mood to not care at all....when I am in the mood to consider giving up the fight.
We need to stay reminded, man...we really do.
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For those of us who have been on the can for 15+ years, I suppose it does come down to quitting or dying. I don't feel like dying, so quitting is my only option.
A long time ago, I told myself that it would suck to be in my 30s, still dipping, dying of cancer. Well, now I'm in my 30s. I don't have cancer, and I am not dying. That's good. I owe it to whoever or whatever to stop pushing my fucking luck. I need to get ahead of this before it kills me.
And you know what I try to keep in mind? As depressing as it is to think of a world without tobacco (and by God...the sense of loss I get when trying to quit is vicious), it's much more depressing to think about saying goodbye to my one-year-old.
Anyway, I run the risk of blabbing because this is the first time I have tried to quit in more than three years, and this is day three for me. (I spent day one on the patch, but I went pure nicotine-free yesterday.) Needless to say, I barely know where I am right now. I am plowed with withdrawal. I could very easily verbally assault and bring to tears anyone who comes near me, and afterward demolish this office building with my bare hands and teeth. I think I WOULD like to do that, actually.
Yeah that says it all- you got it right Dean. Feels like i lost a friend- although I know it wasnt really a friend.
Keep thinking- losing nothing!
Was in a quicky store today SKLLCM staring at me- 2 for 5.77- damn good deal
But, i walked away. WHO IS YOUR DADDY BITCH?
That felt good.
now this bitch hasnt even signed on since 3/27........ pussy
fukukodiak
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Good stuff I agree with it all nice to see it written down.
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I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
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I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
WTF? What do you mean?
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I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
WTF? What do you mean?
What? Maybe you transposed your 9 0...di you mean 2090?
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I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
I can't either.
I'm dying to try out my magical new move.
Supposedly, it can actually cave a dude's head in and make his wife hot for me instead of him.
For real.
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I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
Way to go !
With 2009 cave date you'll be on track to make your "I can't kiss my wife or even look at my son because I just had my jaw removed" date of October 2012!
You'll be the happiest, most well respected man if you continue to dip - your self-esteem will rocket sky-high, and you'll be the first in line for that big promotion! And think about how proud you will be to have made that cave. Definitly an inflection point to be cultivated in your memoires.
I wish I had your resolve.
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I am having a HARD time today, boys.
I don't know about everyone else. There are so many guys here who say they hate dip. Quitting must be easy for them (or at least their attitudes would suggest it is). Then there are guys who say they LOVE dip, but stay quit anyway. They ride on pure resolve.
I am in the camp where I neither hate nor love dip. All I know is that dip is the only fucking thing that will fix me right now. I'll throw away a strong quit and feel ashamed of myself afterward and be a weakling...but it will completely fix me for those fleeting moments.
Do any of you see what I'm saying? I'm SHOT, bros. I am fresh out of ideas, of strategies, of comfort, of ANYTHING. All I have is this quit.
Am I going to dip today? No. Am I going to dip on October 1? No. But do I want to pretend that I will? You bet your ass. I want to really believe that I am going to dip again soon. Why? Because envisioning a lifetime without dip is too much for me to handle. And conversely, I am at the point right now where the "one day at a time" mantra is ringing hollow. I am sick of these everydays. I do it. Every day. But it sucks, and I'm tired of it. I want to dip.
Who can tell me he doesn't want a dip right now?
Who can tell me he hasn't seen himself dipping again?
Who is trying to tell me that he is a GOD over nicotine?
Who has anything more going for him than the mere attitude that to NOT dip is better and more important than dipping?
And who doesn't sometimes waver from that in body and need to reclaim himself, in mind?
If you don't want to cave with me on October 1, you are a better man than I am. And I want your secrets. I want your magic bullet.
Yep...All the preceding is representative of a stage for me, and it will pass. But forgive me if that doesn't give me any fucking comfort right now. Because NOTHING is passing right now.
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I am sick of these everydays. I do it. Every day. But it sucks, and I'm tired of it. I want to dip.
Me too.
But I won't.
And neither will you.
Who can tell me he doesn't want a dip right now?
I don't.
Those days are over.
I'm one of those dudes who loved dipping.
Thoroughly enjoyed it and didn't really want to quit.
But the only thing I miss is the selfish part...the buzz.
I don't miss the lying.
Nor do I miss the health detriments.
It will kill you and dying sucks ass.
Who can tell me he hasn't seen himself dipping again?
I haven't.
And here's some important shit -
There are certain dudes here that I am sure won't dip again.
You're one of them.
I've been disappointed by a couple of other dudes who caved, but they'll be back.
You, on the other hand, aren't going anywhere.
I just know you're stronger than that shit.
Who is trying to tell me that he is a GOD over nicotine?
I'm a god in a lot of ways.
But I never thought I could be one over nicotine, until I came here.
With every day that you bitch-slap this habit, your deity points increase.
Who has anything more going for him than the mere attitude that to NOT dip is better and more important than dipping?
This is the best fucking question of all.
And the answer is this -
Every mofo on this site has a hundred other dudes going for him.
That trumps attitude every day.
If you don't want to cave with me on October 1, you are a better man than I am. And I want your secrets. I want your magic bullet.
You can't have my magic bullet, bitch.
My magic bullet is you.
Get your shit together, dude.
You're awesome this will pass.
And if it doesn't pass, Reach Out.
'Cause you're staying.
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That really did help my nutty funk, SWJ.
NOTE TO ALL: SWJ is more than a round ass with a tight sense of humor.
I thank all you guys for engaging in my hard day.
And I ain't caving. But I am still planning my cave for October 1. When that day comes, I will re-read what you all wrote, as well as reflect on what I've accomplished, and re-set my cave date to October 1, 2010.
I will look forward to that dip...and I'll never have it.
Always hoping that, sooner or later, I really do "feel better."
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That really did help my nutty funk, SWJ.
NOTE TO ALL: SWJ is more than a round ass with a tight sense of humor.
I thank all you guys for engaging in my hard day.
And I ain't caving. But I am still planning my cave for October 1. When that day comes, I will re-read what you all wrote, as well as reflect on what I've accomplished, and re-set my cave date to October 1, 2010.
I will look forward to that dip...and I'll never have it.
Always hoping that, sooner or later, I really do "feel better."
He's pretty fucking clever and smart, that SWJ.
SWJ thanks for talking my boy Dean off the ledge.
Dean, it's OK to feel like a beaten man. I know you're not going back to dip until October 1st, so that's OK too.
And I know, you know, that you need permission from your wife and son to do it on that day. i guess we will cross that bridge in 4 months.
I'm with SWJ, I am over it. I'm done. I don't like to talk about it too much on here, I have a reputation to uphold, but I am probably the most panic-stricken, depressed, anxious, stressed out person on here. for a myriad of reasons. There's plenty of good going on in my life, but also alot of turmoil, but no matter how miserable I have been, no matter how much pressure I have been under in work, running our football league, worrying about business, planning a wedding, etc, etc, 100x, I know that dip won't solve it.
Fuck dip dude, it's fucking gross. it's for losers. and it will kill you. I can say, I AM over it. And so are you.
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That really did help my nutty funk, SWJ.
NOTE TO ALL: SWJ is more than a round ass with a tight sense of humor.
I thank all you guys for engaging in my hard day.
And I ain't caving. But I am still planning my cave for October 1. When that day comes, I will re-read what you all wrote, as well as reflect on what I've accomplished, and re-set my cave date to October 1, 2010.
I will look forward to that dip...and I'll never have it.
Always hoping that, sooner or later, I really do "feel better."
He's pretty fucking clever and smart, that SWJ.
SWJ thanks for talking my boy Dean off the ledge.
Dean, it's OK to feel like a beaten man. I know you're not going back to dip until October 1st, so that's OK too.
And I know, you know, that you need permission from your wife and son to do it on that day. i guess we will cross that bridge in 4 months.
I'm with SWJ, I am over it. I'm done. I don't like to talk about it too much on here, I have a reputation to uphold, but I am probably the most panic-stricken, depressed, anxious, stressed out person on here. for a myriad of reasons. There's plenty of good going on in my life, but also alot of turmoil, but no matter how miserable I have been, no matter how much pressure I have been under in work, running our football league, worrying about business, planning a wedding, etc, etc, 100x, I know that dip won't solve it.
Fuck dip dude, it's fucking gross. it's for losers. and it will kill you. I can say, I AM over it. And so are you.
Great discussion guys! Just wanted to add one more thing to it. I suggest you post some of these things in your quit group. Not everyone from July is likely to head over to Introductions to see this. You never know how you might post something that another of your quit brothers is also feeling or how your post helps them through a tough day. To this day, I remember how some seemingly benign conversations evolved into some of the best discussions in my May 09 group.
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I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
I assume that's you and your baby in your avatar. You're gonna choose dip over that child? Make your baby's mother explain in 5 years that daddy's not around because he loved dip more than his own child?
What a bitch you are.
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I'm sure you've gotten inundated with PM's and there is some VERY sound advice posted below. But this is something that I remember well about my quit.
-------See my join date over there? Check out my quit date in my signature line.
I was where you are right now when I joined this site. I had "beaten" what everyone thinks is the hardest part on desire. I wanted to quit and I was doing it for 70 sumpin days on that desire alone. I had found KTC.org and knew there was some myspace message board type of thing, but skepticism kept me from joining. Until I fell into this thing that you're in right now affectionately known as the funk.
It was that exact feeling of not wanting to accept "no more dip, ever" that had me feeling helpless. I had a ton of reasons why quitting was a stupid idea. I was sick of quitting. My addiction had me believing that "the news" wouldn't be so bad because at least then there would be nothing lost with a dip. Can you believe that? Talk about a brain working in a fucked up way?
The funk is powerful. But it will pass. And a truth you won't see me post very often is that I still do miss dipping. I do have a cave date, although I don't know what it is. I'm just not into the "forever" of it yet. The reason I don't post it very often is because I refuse to romanticize my addiction. And while that's true, I don't miss having flakes in my teeth, not being able to just kiss my wife or kids, the feeling of it may be too late to quit...you get the picture.
fine print note: I was an idiot for waiting 70 sumpin days for joining. I missed out on enduring some tough times with friends. I was lucky to have been accepted by my group. Please don't take me bringing that up as bragging of any sort because its not.
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And a truth you won't see me post very often is that I still do miss dipping. I do have a cave date, although I don't know what it is.
...yet you remain quit.
That's the crux of this whole discussion. In effect, I am planning a cave *in order to help me stay quit*. Addiction is romance, and I'm a hopeless romantic.
But it gives me VD, so I'm gonna avoid it.
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I'm way late to this party... but thought I'd chime in.
Explaining The Funk Part I: http://www.killthecan.org/facts/funk01.asp (http://www.killthecan.org/facts/funk01.asp)
Explaining The Funk Part II: http://www.killthecan.org/facts/funk02.asp (http://www.killthecan.org/facts/funk02.asp)
Dealing With Craves The Concept Of Forever: http://www.killthecan.org/facts/cravesforever.asp (http://www.killthecan.org/facts/cravesforever.asp)
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U lowlife scumfuck, planning a cave....
U fucken sicken me.... Hopefully your driving and hit a telephone pole before your first spit..
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U lowlife scumfuck, planning a cave....
U fucken sicken me.... Hopefully your driving and hit a telephone pole before your first spit..
Ease-up now - just his way of making it straight in his head. Masturbatory mind-fuck if you will.
Why don't you try inviting him to one of your BBQ's? Pretty sure CT is the 3rd smallest state - your douchbags can't be that far away from each other.
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U lowlife scumfuck, planning a cave....
U fucken sicken me.... Hopefully your driving and hit a telephone pole before your first spit..
I guess I know what you think of my exercise in self-deceit. ;)
I ain't caving, bro. Read deeper.
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Well did you expect me to get all oprah on you?!?!?!?
Fuckyoukodiak!!!!!
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Well did you expect me to get all oprah on you?!?!?!?
Fuckyoukodiak!!!!!
All together now, gay boys, kum bye mother fucking ya.
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Well did you expect me to get all oprah on you?!?!?!?
Fuckyoukodiak!!!!!
All together now, gay boys, kum bye mother fucking ya.
You know every time I see "FtheKodiak" I think "ScrewthePooch". I think I'll call you Skippy from now on.
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That'd be Skippy in the orange pants. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FARnbRBWKGg)
Geez.
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Just had this conversation with my wife, while I was in the kitchen holding my son:
Dean: *putting dishes away...comes across steak knife...holds it like I am ready to slash with it, handle palmed and blade facing rear/outward from forearm...makes thrusting noises...son laughs*
Wife: Honey.
Dean: What?
Wife: Are you stupid?
Dean: What? He needs to learn how to knife-fight!
Wife: Idiot.
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Let the bodies hit the floor.
YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biA_ISoC2dg&feature=fvsr)
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Just had this conversation with my wife, while I was in the kitchen holding my son:
Dean: *putting dishes away...comes across steak knife...holds it like I am ready to slash with it, handle palmed and blade facing rear/outward from forearm...makes thrusting noises...son laughs*
Wife: Honey.
Dean: What?
Wife: Are you stupid?
Dean: What? He needs to learn how to knife-fight!
Wife: Idiot.
Chicks don't understand man lessons.
That reminds me of when I was but a lad...
When I was like 12 someone came back from somewhere and gave me one of those sailor bracelets. You know the white braided rope kind? Now, at 12 I didn't understand the signals I was putting out to the Nambla crowd so of course I wore it proudly....I digress
So my father says to me: "Hey, come here for a minute." So I do, and he in one fluid movement gains control of my braceleted arm by slipping his index and middle fingers under said ornamentation, and yanking me towards him.
He very plainly states: "This is why men don't wear jewelry," as he raises my arm and dangles it helplessly infront of my face. He then, with the precision of a cobra strike, snaps my own wilted fingers at the tip of my nose, and then retracts. He relinquises control of my apendage and it falls to my side.
After my eyes clear-up, and the initial sting fades, I realize I learned three lessons that day.
1. Men don't wear jewelry because it can by used as leverage against you in a combat situation.
2. Avoid getting hit in the nose at all costs: that shit'll fuck your morning up.
3. My dad is kind of a dick.
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Chicks don't understand man lessons.
There are a lot of things that chicks don't understand.
The other day we were all sitting down to eat supper and it was my turn to pray.
I started with "Dear tiny, sweet, baby Jesus, lying there in your hay..."
Which of course, I think is wicked funny.
And which, of course, she didn't.
My wife doesn't understand that me and Jesus are tighter than she thinks.
And Jesus thinks I'm fucking hilarious.
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3. My dad is kind of a dick.
HA! Love it.
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lying there in your hay...
Oh, that's funny...especially the possessive case: YOUR hay.
Fuck...you two got my day started off very nicely.
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Chicks don't understand man lessons.
[/QUOTE]
True story. Good friend of mines new girlfriend has an 8 year old son. Hes never really had a guy in his life....it shows. I called him the other day to find out what time our rehearsal dinner is today and ask him what he is doing. He responds, "Whatching the little queer" I have a little chuckle at the fact he has to babysit. He then reports that he is flipping the channel between baseball and Bloodsport. Man training begins today.
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Life is good
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That reminds me of when I was but a lad...
He very plainly states: "This is why men don't wear jewelry,"
This is pretty funny because I had a girlfriend braid up a neck thing out of parachute cord and the old man did the same thing to me. Except he had me by the neck!!
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Man, these intro pages are the best reading around. Fucking funny shit.
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Just had this conversation with my wife, while I was in the kitchen holding my son:
Dean: *putting dishes away...comes across steak knife...holds it like I am ready to slash with it, handle palmed and blade facing rear/outward from forearm...makes thrusting noises...son laughs*
Wife: Honey.
Dean: What?
Wife: Are you stupid?
Dean: What? He needs to learn how to knife-fight!
Wife: Idiot.
Here's one for you........
So my wife and daughter head out yesterday afternoon to attend one of those stupid pre-wedding get togethers to make bows or some shit. My son and I are left behind....thank you baby Jesus!
So after I get him up from his nap, I toss him into our bed in front of the television which is appropriately showing golf. I go about what ever it was I was doing at the time....I look over and he is just chilling watching the tournament. When the time comes to get him, I walk over to the bed, pull back the sheets only to find my son has pulled an "Al Bundy" on me. I'm talking this kid is in there deep...at least half way up his tiny forearm. I ask:
"Matt, what are you doing with your hand down your pants?"
His response, "just relaxing watching the golf."
Mind you he is only two (2). He already refers to it as "junk" and obviously is way ahead of the curve when it comes to relaxing on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Brings a tear to a father's eye to see his son grow up so fast.
Next weekend, we learn the ins and outs of knife fighting from Uncle Dean!
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Just had this conversation with my wife, while I was in the kitchen holding my son:
Dean: *putting dishes away...comes across steak knife...holds it like I am ready to slash with it, handle palmed and blade facing rear/outward from forearm...makes thrusting noises...son laughs*
Wife: Honey.
Dean: What?
Wife: Are you stupid?
Dean: What? He needs to learn how to knife-fight!
Wife: Idiot.
Here's one for you........
So my wife and daughter head out yesterday afternoon to attend one of those stupid pre-wedding get togethers to make bows or some shit. My son and I are left behind....thank you baby Jesus!
So after I get him up from his nap, I toss him into our bed in front of the television which is appropriately showing golf. I go about what ever it was I was doing at the time....I look over and he is just chilling watching the tournament. When the time comes to get him, I walk over to the bed, pull back the sheets only to find my son has pulled an "Al Bundy" on me. I'm talking this kid is in there deep...at least half way up his tiny forearm. I ask:
"Matt, what are you doing with your hand down your pants?"
His response, "just relaxing watching the golf."
Mind you he is only two (2). He already refers to it as "junk" and obviously is way ahead of the curve when it comes to relaxing on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Brings a tear to a father's eye to see his son grow up so fast.
Next weekend, we learn the ins and outs of knife fighting from Uncle Dean!
This is a perfect example of instinct vs. learned behavior.
This is pure instinct.
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"just relaxing watching the golf."
That is SUPREMELY funny.
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Day 85
I am wearing button-fly pants today. I am accustomed to spending upwards of a minute to undo these goddamn buttons when I go to take a leak.
I find that I start unbuttoning them as I walk toward the urinal at work...it saves time.
So, earlier today, I walk into the bathroom. I begin to unbutton my pants as soon as I am through the door, per usual.
I glance in the mirror as I am walking in, and I see something on my chin. It's a sunflower-seed piece. I get closer to the mirror and wipe it off my chin. I am still unbuttoning my pants, and making progress therein.
I then notice sunflower-seed remnants in my teeth. I get even closer to the mirror, so I can really inspect. I am unbuttoning my fly with my right hand while holding down my bottom lip with my left.
My cock is now out of my pants, but I am too transfixed on the mess of sunflower seeds in my teeth to notice. I am distracted by examining my gum line.
Suddenly, one of the tech guys walks in the bathroom. It is only THEN that I notice that I am standing in front of the mirror, giving myself a big fucking toothy smile with my dick in my right hand.
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Day 85
I am wearing button-fly pants today. I am accustomed to spending upwards of a minute to undo these goddamn buttons when I go to take a leak.
I find that I start unbuttoning them as I walk toward the urinal at work...it saves time.
So, earlier today, I walk into the bathroom. I begin to unbutton my pants as soon as I am through the door, per usual.
I glance in the mirror as I am walking in, and I see something on my chin. It's a sunflower-seed piece. I get closer to the mirror and wipe it off my chin. I am still unbuttoning my pants, and making progress therein.
I then notice sunflower-seed remnants in my teeth. I get even closer to the mirror, so I can really inspect. I am unbuttoning my fly with my right hand while holding down my bottom lip with my left.
My cock is now out of my pants, but I am too transfixed on the mess of sunflower seeds in my teeth to notice. I am distracted by examining my gum line.
Suddenly, one of the tech guys walks in the bathroom. It is only THEN that I notice that I am standing in front of the mirror, giving myself a big fucking toothy smile with my dick in my right hand.
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup'
I politely informed the girlfriend to NEVER buy me button fly again, I hate them with a passion.
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Day 85
I am wearing button-fly pants today. I am accustomed to spending upwards of a minute to undo these goddamn buttons when I go to take a leak.
I find that I start unbuttoning them as I walk toward the urinal at work...it saves time.
So, earlier today, I walk into the bathroom. I begin to unbutton my pants as soon as I am through the door, per usual.
I glance in the mirror as I am walking in, and I see something on my chin. It's a sunflower-seed piece. I get closer to the mirror and wipe it off my chin. I am still unbuttoning my pants, and making progress therein.
I then notice sunflower-seed remnants in my teeth. I get even closer to the mirror, so I can really inspect. I am unbuttoning my fly with my right hand while holding down my bottom lip with my left.
My cock is now out of my pants, but I am too transfixed on the mess of sunflower seeds in my teeth to notice. I am distracted by examining my gum line.
Suddenly, one of the tech guys walks in the bathroom. It is only THEN that I notice that I am standing in front of the mirror, giving myself a big fucking toothy smile with my dick in my right hand.
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup'
I politely informed the girlfriend to NEVER buy me button fly again, I hate them with a passion.
I didn't know they still made button fly pants. How did the tech handle the situation?
FUCKING HILARIOUS!!!!!
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Day 85
I am wearing button-fly pants today. I am accustomed to spending upwards of a minute to undo these goddamn buttons when I go to take a leak.
I find that I start unbuttoning them as I walk toward the urinal at work...it saves time.
So, earlier today, I walk into the bathroom. I begin to unbutton my pants as soon as I am through the door, per usual.
I glance in the mirror as I am walking in, and I see something on my chin. It's a sunflower-seed piece. I get closer to the mirror and wipe it off my chin. I am still unbuttoning my pants, and making progress therein.
I then notice sunflower-seed remnants in my teeth. I get even closer to the mirror, so I can really inspect. I am unbuttoning my fly with my right hand while holding down my bottom lip with my left.
My cock is now out of my pants, but I am too transfixed on the mess of sunflower seeds in my teeth to notice. I am distracted by examining my gum line.
Suddenly, one of the tech guys walks in the bathroom. It is only THEN that I notice that I am standing in front of the mirror, giving myself a big fucking toothy smile with my dick in my right hand.
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup'
I politely informed the girlfriend to NEVER buy me button fly again, I hate them with a passion.
I didn't know they still made button fly pants. How did the tech handle the situation?
FUCKING HILARIOUS!!!!!
Two points:
1. You've got to have button fly pants, sheep can hear a zipper from a mile away 'chief'
2. There is a brace and pull technique, two handed operation, you get the top button undone, hold on with your right hand (brace) and pull down and away with your left hand, buttons pop open.
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Only cocksmoochers wear buttonfly pants....
-
There is a brace and pull technique
Cocksmoocher
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Day 85
I am wearing button-fly pants today. I am accustomed to spending upwards of a minute to undo these goddamn buttons when I go to take a leak.
I find that I start unbuttoning them as I walk toward the urinal at work...it saves time.
So, earlier today, I walk into the bathroom. I begin to unbutton my pants as soon as I am through the door, per usual.
I glance in the mirror as I am walking in, and I see something on my chin. It's a sunflower-seed piece. I get closer to the mirror and wipe it off my chin. I am still unbuttoning my pants, and making progress therein.
I then notice sunflower-seed remnants in my teeth. I get even closer to the mirror, so I can really inspect. I am unbuttoning my fly with my right hand while holding down my bottom lip with my left.
My cock is now out of my pants, but I am too transfixed on the mess of sunflower seeds in my teeth to notice. I am distracted by examining my gum line.
Suddenly, one of the tech guys walks in the bathroom. It is only THEN that I notice that I am standing in front of the mirror, giving myself a big fucking toothy smile with my dick in my right hand.
And this my friends, does not surprise me in the least.
Fucking hysterical!
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Only cocksmoochers wear buttonfly pants....
Dean do you still have a pair of Zubazs?
-
To all those critical of my cocksmoocher pants: Your lady didn't have any problem opening up my button-fly with her teeth and thereafter swallowing my johnson to my balls.
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To all those critical of my cocksmoocher pants: Your lady didn't have any problem opening up my button-fly with her teeth and thereafter swallowing my johnson to my balls.
Just when i thought things could not get any gayer......
-
You'd be amazed how gay things can get up in here...
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There is a brace and pull technique
Cocksmoocher
You turds are just pissed you can't roll in the 501's anymore!
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Deans probably pimping some buttonfly z cavariccis.... Big time cock smoocher...
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Dean,
A side effect of quit, is having to hold those shitty gas pumps and stand outside pumping gas like a dbag... Since we don't have tins to prop gas pumps what are you using now???
Can bottle, actually standing out there squeezing pump trigger...
I'm aware are friends fron the state of new jovi,
Will chime in, as they imagaine they are so high class they don't pump gas in new jovi...
Hate to burst there bubble but there gas pumping slaves are all turban wrapped terrorist, each sittin on 30k gals of bomb aka gas tanks on every corner...
-
Dean,
A side effect of quit, is having to hold those shitty gas pumps and stand outside pumping gas like a dbag... Since we don't have tins to prop gas pumps what are you using now???
Can bottle, actually standing out there squeezing pump trigger...
I'm aware are friends fron the state of new jovi,
Will chime in, as they imagaine they are so high class they don't pump gas in new jovi...
Hate to burst there bubble but there gas pumping slaves are all turban wrapped terrorist, each sittin on 30k gals of bomb aka gas tanks on every corner...
more reason to love Jersey. And Oregon too. And they smoke the good hooch out there.
Dem fuckin terrorist cocksuckers used to sell me Kodiak too.
-
Dean,
A side effect of quit, is having to hold those shitty gas pumps and stand outside pumping gas like a dbag... Since we don't have tins to prop gas pumps what are you using now???
Can bottle, actually standing out there squeezing pump trigger...
I'm aware are friends fron the state of new jovi,
Will chime in, as they imagaine they are so high class they don't pump gas in new jovi...
Hate to burst there bubble but there gas pumping slaves are all turban wrapped terrorist, each sittin on 30k gals of bomb aka gas tanks on every corner...
more reason to love Jersey. And Oregon too. And they smoke the good hooch out there.
Dem fuckin terrorist cocksuckers used to sell me Kodiak too.
Funny how they could sell that shit to us, huh? Cant speak a fucking word of english but can sure as hell count American money and make change...wtf?
-
Dean,
A side effect of quit, is having to hold those shitty gas pumps and stand outside pumping gas like a dbag... Since we don't have tins to prop gas pumps what are you using now???
Can bottle, actually standing out there squeezing pump trigger...
I'm aware are friends fron the state of new jovi,
Will chime in, as they imagaine they are so high class they don't pump gas in new jovi...
Hate to burst there bubble but there gas pumping slaves are all turban wrapped terrorist, each sittin on 30k gals of bomb aka gas tanks on every corner...
more reason to love Jersey. And Oregon too. And they smoke the good hooch out there.
Dem fuckin terrorist cocksuckers used to sell me Kodiak too.
Funny how they could sell that shit to us, huh? Cant speak a fucking word of english but can sure as hell count American money and make change...wtf?
just flip the latch on here we don't have to hold the pump.
-
:ph43r:
-
Day 94
I think I need to quit seeds. My poop looked really gross this afternoon...shitty-seed remnants floating above a bed of loose, light-tan, diarrhea-ish cocky.
I puked in the sink a little bit.
-
Day 94
I think I need to quit seeds. My poop looked really gross this afternoon...shitty-seed remnants floating above a bed of loose, light-tan, diarrhea-ish cocky.
I puked in the sink a little bit.
I am officially 4 weeks clean of seeds. Gum on the other hand....
But no yellowish shit with the gum, and your mouth is left minty fresh.
-
Day 94
I think I need to quit seeds. My poop looked really gross this afternoon...shitty-seed remnants floating above a bed of loose, light-tan, diarrhea-ish cocky.
I puked in the sink a little bit.
I am officially 4 weeks clean of seeds. Gum on the other hand....
But no yellowish shit with the gum, and your mouth is left minty fresh.
Holy sunflower seed Batman....how many are you pounding down a day? I can just see you walking around the office with a wad of seeds in your mouth looking like a fucking chipmunk nibbling on them.
The gum is the way to go....just don't swallow it or your shit will start to get really interesting!
And quit being a little bitch about it already!
smooches 'rem'
-
And quit being a little bitch about it already!
Dude...My shit was so gross that I puked. It was the shitty-seed element.
Today, I am pretty upset about Michael Jackson dying.
-
Dude...My shit was so gross that I puked. It was the shitty-seed element.
Today, I am pretty upset about Michael Jackson dying.
If your shit appears Michael-Jackson-colored, you should definitely see a doctor.
-
Well how bad can it be..... I ve puked from my own shit smell only once.... New yrs day 2000... So hung over I jumped of the seat and was puking right on it...
Can't be that bad dean.... Pics????
-
You know how some dudes carry photographs of their kids in their wallet...?
I knew a dude once who carried a photograph of a turd around with him.
Apparently, he was taking an epic dump one day and this one particular turd just never got pinched off.
According to him, by the time he was done, there was about 4 solid feet of shit coiled around the inside of the bowl like a snake.
That shit was so long that, after it had gone around the bowl like three times, there was nothing left for it to do but stick up out of the water like a poopiscope.
Anyway, this dude was so struck by the sheer awesomeness of his creation that he went and got his camera and took a picture of it.
I remember being in a pizza joint one time with him and three other dudes when he took it out and started showing people.
Guy actually got a little teary over it like it was a picture of his grandmother or something.
But it wasn't.
It was a picture of a 4 foot long piece of shit.
Awesome.
-
HAAAAA!
"...and here's a picture of my little pride and joy...."
-
Since the very first Oxy Clean commercial aired, I have wanted Billy Mays to die. He was always SCREAMING at me. The speakers on my TV would literally buzz when his commercials were on.
BILLY MAYS HERE. L.o.u.d. TOO loud. Constantly.
If I fell asleep on the couch, I'd often be awoken to his screaming voice at 2:30 a.m. His commercials would sometimes come on during prime time, and I'd make my wife hit the mute button. His voice made me cringe. It made my blood pressure rise. I wished him death all the time. I needed him to die...It seemed to be the only way he'd stop.
I told my wife yesterday that he was dead. She didn't know. This was her tongue-in-cheek response:
"Oh my God, honey...You KILLED him. You finally killed him."
1. My wife is awesome
2. I AM A GOD
-
Since the very first Oxy Clean commercial aired, I have wanted Billy Mays to die. He was always SCREAMING at me. The speakers on my TV would literally buzz when his commercials were on.
BILLY MAYS HERE. L.o.u.d. TOO loud. Constantly.
If I fell asleep on the couch, I'd often be awoken to his screaming voice at 2:30 a.m. His commercials would sometimes come on during prime time, and I'd make my wife hit the mute button. His voice made me cringe. It made my blood pressure rise. I wished him death all the time. I needed him to die...It seemed to be the only way he'd stop.
I told my wife yesterday that he was dead. She didn't know. This was her tongue-in-cheek response:
"Oh my God, honey...You KILLED him. You finally killed him."
1. My wife is awesome
2. I AM A GOD
Mrs Coot certainly shares, your sick, twisted, sense of humor.
But that's fucking funny. You fucking killed Billy Mays.
I only kill the punnanny.
-
The wife and I sit down for dinner each night. Our little guy sits in his highchair at the corner of the table...me on one side; my wife on the other. I sometimes like to brush my fingers through the little man's hair and pat him on the head. Here is a piece of my life:
Wife: Michael, your hands are oily. You're going to make Jack's hair greasy.
Me: No I won't.
Wife: And you're parting it in the wrong direction! It goes the OTHER way.
Me: You're high.
Wife: He looks like Hitler now!
Me: REAL nice, honey...our son looks like Hitler. Nice thing to say.
Wife: Oh, I'm kidding...jeez
Me: Heil, mein Fuhrer
Wife: Jerk
-
poopiscope.
I always try to add one word a day to my vocabulary! I think I will use this one for today, any suggestions on how to fit this one into the dinner conversation tonight???? 'crackup' 'crackup'
-
The wife and I sit down for dinner each night. Our little guy sits in his highchair at the corner of the table...me on one side; my wife on the other. I sometimes like to brush my fingers through the little man's hair and pat him on the head. Here is a piece of my life:
Wife: Michael, your hands are oily. You're going to make Jack's hair greasy.
Me: No I won't.
Wife: And you're parting it in the wrong direction! It goes the OTHER way.
Me: You're high.
Wife: He looks like Hitler now!
Me: REAL nice, honey...our son looks like Hitler. Nice thing to say.
Wife: Oh, I'm kidding...jeez
Me: Heil, mein Fuhrer
Wife: Jerk
I just caught a glimpse of my own life through someone else's eyes! I am so going home and showing this to Mrs Stretch (all 5'2" of her)!
"See honey, I'm not the only one that is constantly a smart ass to his wife!"
-
You know how some dudes carry photographs of their kids in their wallet...?
I knew a dude once who carried a photograph of a turd around with him.
Apparently, he was taking an epic dump one day and this one particular turd just never got pinched off.
According to him, by the time he was done, there was about 4 solid feet of shit coiled around the inside of the bowl like a snake.
That shit was so long that, after it had gone around the bowl like three times, there was nothing left for it to do but stick up out of the water like a poopiscope.
Anyway, this dude was so struck by the sheer awesomeness of his creation that he went and got his camera and took a picture of it.
I remember being in a pizza joint one time with him and three other dudes when he took it out and started showing people.
Guy actually got a little teary over it like it was a picture of his grandmother or something.
But it wasn't.
It was a picture of a 4 foot long piece of shit.
Awesome.
I too have seen this behavior. My good friend is a veteran fighter pilot, one crazy sob. He has a photo of a rolled up cable in a toilet also. Like you mentioned, this guy kinda talks about it like it was his child or something. The damn photo has got to be 20 years old. Anyhow, uh hum.......holding the puke down here. He keeps the photo posted on his REFRIGERATOR. What the h@ll? And who needs dexatrim now?
-
Since the very first Oxy Clean commercial aired, I have wanted Billy Mays to die. He was always SCREAMING at me. The speakers on my TV would literally buzz when his commercials were on.
BILLY MAYS HERE. L.o.u.d. TOO loud. Constantly.
If I fell asleep on the couch, I'd often be awoken to his screaming voice at 2:30 a.m. His commercials would sometimes come on during prime time, and I'd make my wife hit the mute button. His voice made me cringe. It made my blood pressure rise. I wished him death all the time. I needed him to die...It seemed to be the only way he'd stop.
I told my wife yesterday that he was dead. She didn't know. This was her tongue-in-cheek response:
"Oh my God, honey...You KILLED him. You finally killed him."
Could you please unwind some announcercide on the Sham-Wow guy next...?
He's a douche.
-
Could you please unwind some announcercide on the Sham-Wow guy next...?
He's a douche.
I am happy to report that I have already initiated death wishes on Mister Sham-Wow. He is on borrowed time. Soon, every TV pitchman will be dead. I am going to vaporize an entire industry.
WATCH YOUR STEP, KID
-
Just don't kill that bitch (http://www.infomercial-hell.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/mimi_magic_bullet_to_go.jpg) from the Magic Bullet commercial.
Yet.
I'd like to give her my magic love bullet...
-
Billy Mays (http://www.dailyfinance.com/2009/07/07/the-new-billy-mays-infomercial-and-the-deaths-of-other-salesmen/) will rise again?
-
:ph43r:
-
Billy Mays (http://www.dailyfinance.com/2009/07/07/the-new-billy-mays-infomercial-and-the-deaths-of-other-salesmen/) will rise again?
I watched the 'Tribute to Billy Mays' yesterday.
1 - As cool / annoying as his voice was, he is a father. so I'm sad for his family
2 - When I quit chewing, some 186 days ago, during my bouts of insomnia I bought a gang of informercial stuff.
3 - i wished that one day I would have herard this.... ah hem..
Billy Mays here for Kill the Can. Have you tried multiple times to quit chewing but stumbled along the way? Well, here's your answer. Kill the Can is a one stop shop. Wanna quit chewing? Kill the Can. Wanna make new friends? Kill the Can. Wanna troll? Kill the Can. Wanna enjoy saving a life? Kill the Can.
it can do it all folks.....
-
Billy Mays (http://www.dailyfinance.com/2009/07/07/the-new-billy-mays-infomercial-and-the-deaths-of-other-salesmen/) will rise again?
I watched the 'Tribute to Billy Mays' yesterday.
1 - As cool / annoying as his voice was, he is a father. so I'm sad for his family
2 - When I quit chewing, some 186 days ago, during my bouts of insomnia I bought a gang of informercial stuff.
3 - i wished that one day I would have herard this.... ah hem..
Billy Mays here for Kill the Can. Have you tried multiple times to quit chewing but stumbled along the way? Well, here's your answer. Kill the Can is a one stop shop. Wanna quit chewing? Kill the Can. Wanna make new friends? Kill the Can. Wanna troll? Kill the Can. Wanna enjoy saving a life? Kill the Can.
it can do it all folks.....
what did you buy?
-
Billy Mays (http://www.dailyfinance.com/2009/07/07/the-new-billy-mays-infomercial-and-the-deaths-of-other-salesmen/) will rise again?
I watched the 'Tribute to Billy Mays' yesterday.
1 - As cool / annoying as his voice was, he is a father. so I'm sad for his family
2 - When I quit chewing, some 186 days ago, during my bouts of insomnia I bought a gang of informercial stuff.
3 - i wished that one day I would have herard this.... ah hem..
Billy Mays here for Kill the Can. Have you tried multiple times to quit chewing but stumbled along the way? Well, here's your answer. Kill the Can is a one stop shop. Wanna quit chewing? Kill the Can. Wanna make new friends? Kill the Can. Wanna troll? Kill the Can. Wanna enjoy saving a life? Kill the Can.
it can do it all folks.....
what did you buy?
Ok, now keep in mind we were in the process of buying a house, so i was in that mind set when I bought this stuff. I'll prolly forget something
Point n Paint
Twin draft door gaurd
Pro-caulk
Hercules hooks
Puck lights you stick anywhere
Magic bullet
Sham Wow
I'm thinking somethign else, but hell, I can't remember
I know, I'm lame.
-
I know, I'm lame.
So long as you know, cutie pie.
-
Billy Mays (http://www.dailyfinance.com/2009/07/07/the-new-billy-mays-infomercial-and-the-deaths-of-other-salesmen/) will rise again?
I watched the 'Tribute to Billy Mays' yesterday.
1 - As cool / annoying as his voice was, he is a father. so I'm sad for his family
2 - When I quit chewing, some 186 days ago, during my bouts of insomnia I bought a gang of informercial stuff.
3 - i wished that one day I would have herard this.... ah hem..
Billy Mays here for Kill the Can. Have you tried multiple times to quit chewing but stumbled along the way? Well, here's your answer. Kill the Can is a one stop shop. Wanna quit chewing? Kill the Can. Wanna make new friends? Kill the Can. Wanna troll? Kill the Can. Wanna enjoy saving a life? Kill the Can.
it can do it all folks.....
what did you buy?
Ok, now keep in mind we were in the process of buying a house, so i was in that mind set when I bought this stuff. I'll prolly forget something
Point n Paint
Twin draft door gaurd
Pro-caulk
Hercules hooks
Puck lights you stick anywhere
Magic bullet
Sham Wow
I'm thinking somethign else, but hell, I can't remember
I know, I'm lame.
JP, I have this ocean front property in pheonix i'd like to sell???? Or this bridge in Idaho which one would you like!!
-
How the fuck have I never found this cool kids thread before? You guys keeping this shit secret?
How do I join?
-
Billy Mays (http://www.dailyfinance.com/2009/07/07/the-new-billy-mays-infomercial-and-the-deaths-of-other-salesmen/) will rise again?
I watched the 'Tribute to Billy Mays' yesterday.
1 - As cool / annoying as his voice was, he is a father. so I'm sad for his family
2 - When I quit chewing, some 186 days ago, during my bouts of insomnia I bought a gang of informercial stuff.
3 - i wished that one day I would have herard this.... ah hem..
Billy Mays here for Kill the Can. Have you tried multiple times to quit chewing but stumbled along the way? Well, here's your answer. Kill the Can is a one stop shop. Wanna quit chewing? Kill the Can. Wanna make new friends? Kill the Can. Wanna troll? Kill the Can. Wanna enjoy saving a life? Kill the Can.
it can do it all folks.....
what did you buy?
Ok, now keep in mind we were in the process of buying a house, so i was in that mind set when I bought this stuff. I'll prolly forget something
Point n Paint
Twin draft door gaurd
Pro-caulk
Hercules hooks
Puck lights you stick anywhere
Magic bullet
Sham Wow
I'm thinking somethign else, but hell, I can't remember
I know, I'm lame.
JP, I have this ocean front property in pheonix i'd like to sell???? Or this bridge in Idaho which one would you like!!
Dude, I told you you need help. WAYYYYYYYYY too much time on you hands.
Just sayin.....again.
-
Billy Mays (http://www.dailyfinance.com/2009/07/07/the-new-billy-mays-infomercial-and-the-deaths-of-other-salesmen/) will rise again?
I watched the 'Tribute to Billy Mays' yesterday.
1 - As cool / annoying as his voice was, he is a father. so I'm sad for his family
2 - When I quit chewing, some 186 days ago, during my bouts of insomnia I bought a gang of informercial stuff.
3 - i wished that one day I would have herard this.... ah hem..
Billy Mays here for Kill the Can. Have you tried multiple times to quit chewing but stumbled along the way? Well, here's your answer. Kill the Can is a one stop shop. Wanna quit chewing? Kill the Can. Wanna make new friends? Kill the Can. Wanna troll? Kill the Can. Wanna enjoy saving a life? Kill the Can.
it can do it all folks.....
what did you buy?
Ok, now keep in mind we were in the process of buying a house, so i was in that mind set when I bought this stuff. I'll prolly forget something
Point n Paint
Twin draft door gaurd
Pro-caulk
Hercules hooks
Puck lights you stick anywhere
Magic bullet
Sham Wow
I'm thinking somethign else, but hell, I can't remember
I know, I'm lame.
JP, I have this ocean front property in pheonix i'd like to sell???? Or this bridge in Idaho which one would you like!!
Dude, I told you you need help. WAYYYYYYYYY too much time on you hands.
Just sayin.....again.
omg. my face hurts from laffing.
-
Day 112
I am wondering what motivates some of us to be so involved with KTC and the people who come, go and stay here. Of course, there are a number of possible reasons why.
But who believes we get so involved because we're trying to set the quit bar higher and higher and higher? Or that we get crazy and talk shit to put more and more skin in the game?
Let me explain.
It might not surface while I ream out someone's ass for not posting roll or for being a general cocksucker, but I do believe that my whole motivation is to make it IMPOSSIBLE for me to cave. I want to put myself out there so much, to so many people, that I become a model quitter who cannot, under any circumstances, let people down and be a hypocrite.
I force this upon myself, you know? I sure as hell wasn't born this way. I am not inherently strong. In terms of addiction and habits, I am a natural weakling. If Darwin was alive today, he'd use me as an example of the weakest being crushed. But because I want to be quit, I need to CHANGE what I naturally am.
Because weaklings CANNOT quit. It's that simple.
-
Day 112
I am wondering what motivates some of us to be so involved with KTC and the people who come, go and stay here. Of course, there are a number of possible reasons why.
But who believes we get so involved because we're trying to set the quit bar higher and higher and higher? Or that we get crazy and talk shit to put more and more skin in the game?
Let me explain.
It might not surface while I ream out someone's ass for not posting roll or for being a general cocksucker, but I do believe that my whole motivation is to make it IMPOSSIBLE for me to cave. I want to put myself out there so much, to so many people, that I become a model quitter who cannot, under any circumstances, let people down and be a hypocrite.
I force this upon myself, you know? I sure as hell wasn't born this way. I am not inherently strong. In terms of addiction and habits, I am a natural weakling. If Darwin was alive today, he'd use me as an example of the weakest being crushed. But because I want to be quit, I need to CHANGE what I naturally am.
Because weaklings CANNOT quit. It's that simple.
That's some good shit right there.
-
Day 112
I am wondering what motivates some of us to be so involved with KTC and the people who come, go and stay here. Of course, there are a number of possible reasons why.
But who believes we get so involved because we're trying to set the quit bar higher and higher and higher? Or that we get crazy and talk shit to put more and more skin in the game?
Let me explain.
It might not surface while I ream out someone's ass for not posting roll or for being a general cocksucker, but I do believe that my whole motivation is to make it IMPOSSIBLE for me to cave. I want to put myself out there so much, to so many people, that I become a model quitter who cannot, under any circumstances, let people down and be a hypocrite.
I force this upon myself, you know? I sure as hell wasn't born this way. I am not inherently strong. In terms of addiction and habits, I am a natural weakling. If Darwin was alive today, he'd use me as an example of the weakest being crushed. But because I want to be quit, I need to CHANGE what I naturally am.
Because weaklings CANNOT quit. It's that simple.
That's some good shit right there.
that is some good shit, Dean, i started typing that before. good shit.
-
Day 112
I am wondering what motivates some of us to be so involved with KTC and the people who come, go and stay here. Of course, there are a number of possible reasons why.
But who believes we get so involved because we're trying to set the quit bar higher and higher and higher? Or that we get crazy and talk shit to put more and more skin in the game?
Let me explain.
It might not surface while I ream out someone's ass for not posting roll or for being a general cocksucker, but I do believe that my whole motivation is to make it IMPOSSIBLE for me to cave. I want to put myself out there so much, to so many people, that I become a model quitter who cannot, under any circumstances, let people down and be a hypocrite.
I force this upon myself, you know? I sure as hell wasn't born this way. I am not inherently strong. In terms of addiction and habits, I am a natural weakling. If Darwin was alive today, he'd use me as an example of the weakest being crushed. But because I want to be quit, I need to CHANGE what I naturally am.
Because weaklings CANNOT quit. It's that simple.
That's some good shit right there.
that is some good shit, Dean, i started typing that before. good shit.
exactly. great dam post.... 'archer'
-
Day 112
I am wondering what motivates some of us to be so involved with KTC and the people who come, go and stay here. Of course, there are a number of possible reasons why.
But who believes we get so involved because we're trying to set the quit bar higher and higher and higher? Or that we get crazy and talk shit to put more and more skin in the game?
Let me explain.
It might not surface while I ream out someone's ass for not posting roll or for being a general cocksucker, but I do believe that my whole motivation is to make it IMPOSSIBLE for me to cave. I want to put myself out there so much, to so many people, that I become a model quitter who cannot, under any circumstances, let people down and be a hypocrite.
I force this upon myself, you know? I sure as hell wasn't born this way. I am not inherently strong. In terms of addiction and habits, I am a natural weakling. If Darwin was alive today, he'd use me as an example of the weakest being crushed. But because I want to be quit, I need to CHANGE what I naturally am.
Because weaklings CANNOT quit. It's that simple.
true dat.
KTC to me is the equivalent of the brass knuckles Jerry uses to kncok out Buddy Revell in 3 o'clock high...it is that little something extra to tip the scales in my favor.
-
Day 112
I am wondering what motivates some of us to be so involved with KTC and the people who come, go and stay here. Of course, there are a number of possible reasons why.
But who believes we get so involved because we're trying to set the quit bar higher and higher and higher? Or that we get crazy and talk shit to put more and more skin in the game?
Let me explain.
It might not surface while I ream out someone's ass for not posting roll or for being a general cocksucker, but I do believe that my whole motivation is to make it IMPOSSIBLE for me to cave. I want to put myself out there so much, to so many people, that I become a model quitter who cannot, under any circumstances, let people down and be a hypocrite.
I force this upon myself, you know? I sure as hell wasn't born this way. I am not inherently strong. In terms of addiction and habits, I am a natural weakling. If Darwin was alive today, he'd use me as an example of the weakest being crushed. But because I want to be quit, I need to CHANGE what I naturally am.
Because weaklings CANNOT quit. It's that simple.
true dat.
KTC to me is the equivalent of the brass knuckles Jerry uses to kncok out Buddy Revell in 3 o'clock high...it is that little something extra to tip the scales in my favor.
Nice fucking reference, Jay! Nicely done.
-
I just got off the phone with my dentist's office. I made an appointment for a cleaning. As is the case with most dippers, I avoided the dentist like he was the Black Death incarnate. And as is the case with most quitters, I am returning to my dentist after keeping that shit off my gum line for a while.
That's not notable. But I was struck by how long it's been since I was at the dentist. The receptionist counted it off for me:
"Two thousand fiiiiiiiiive...six, seven, eight, nine... Yep, four years."
I was OK with that, at first, know that it had been that long. (And that was the last time I "quit.") But then I got to thinking about it after I hung up the phone.
Four years? Seriously? I am living in fucking Vietnam? Is this a third-world village? How could I go four years without seeing a dentist, after visiting every six months for the first 16 years of my life?
Then I got to thinking some more. The span BEFORE this visit was TEN YEARS. 1995 to 2005. I remember the receptionist saying "I think we might want to do some x-rays...It's been a while since you've been here, Michael. You needed your mom to remember appointments, didn't you?"
-
I just got off the phone with my dentist's office. I made an appointment for a cleaning. As is the case with most dippers, I avoided the dentist like he was the Black Death incarnate. And as is the case with most quitters, I am returning to my dentist after keeping that shit off my gum line for a while.
That's not notable. But I was struck by how long it's been since I was at the dentist. The receptionist counted it off for me:
"Two thousand fiiiiiiiiive...six, seven, eight, nine... Yep, four years."
I was OK with that, at first, know that it had been that long. (And that was the last time I "quit.") But then I got to thinking about it after I hung up the phone.
Four years? Seriously? I am living in fucking Vietnam? Is this a third-world village? How could I go four years without seeing a dentist, after visiting every six months for the first 16 years of my life?
Then I got to thinking some more. The span BEFORE this visit was TEN YEARS. 1995 to 2005. I remember the receptionist saying "I think we might want to do some x-rays...It's been a while since you've been here, Michael. You needed your mom to remember appointments, didn't you?"
Good call Deano - you'll be glad you went!
http://blog.killthecan.org/?p=119 (http://blog.killthecan.org/?p=119)
-
Good call Deano - you'll be glad you went!
http://blog.killthecan.org/?p=119 (http://blog.killthecan.org/?p=119)
Thanks for the blog link, sir. What you wrote reflects exactly how I feel. Even during the ride to work this morning, I kept thinking to myself: "I DON'T have mouth cancer...COOL."
It really IS cool, you know? All of us played Russian roulette for a long, long time, and it is very cool to have dodged the bullet. We deserve it, for quitting.
-
Good call Deano - you'll be glad you went!
http://blog.killthecan.org/?p=119 (http://blog.killthecan.org/?p=119)
Thanks for the blog link, sir. What you wrote reflects exactly how I feel. Even during the ride to work this morning, I kept thinking to myself: "I DON'T have mouth cancer...COOL."
It really IS cool, you know? All of us played Russian roulette for a long, long time, and it is very cool to have dodged the bullet. We deserve it, for quitting.
103 days later, though, my mouth still feels ugly. Unlike you, Dean, I did go to the dentist twice a year. Was a fanatical brusher. But my mouth still feels off. Maybe it's the gum surgery still? Haven't had a cleaning since....
Not happy....
-
my mouth still feels off
Honestly, Glenn, your mouth still feels off because there is no tobacco in it. So does mine. Every day.
Think of it this way: You probably didn't get used to the ridges and leukoplakia and bumps two decades ago, when you'd been dipping only six or 12 months. It took hardcore use and addiction to get used to that.
Same thing now, but in reverse.
-
my mouth still feels off
Honestly, Glenn, your mouth still feels off because there is no tobacco in it. So does mine. Every day.
Think of it this way: You probably didn't get used to the ridges and leukoplakia and bumps two decades ago, when you'd been dipping only six or 12 months. It took hardcore use and addiction to get used to that.
Same thing now, but in reverse.
Probably right. It doesn't 'hurt' anymore, but it still feels like a put a whole tin in my mouth. Stale.
-
my mouth still feels off
Honestly, Glenn, your mouth still feels off because there is no tobacco in it. So does mine. Every day.
Think of it this way: You probably didn't get used to the ridges and leukoplakia and bumps two decades ago, when you'd been dipping only six or 12 months. It took hardcore use and addiction to get used to that.
Same thing now, but in reverse.
Probably right. It doesn't 'hurt' anymore, but it still feels like a put a whole tin in my mouth. Stale.
I know I'm fucking paranoid, but i have been biting through my cheek like it's a piece of bubble-yum..what the hell can I do to stop? I feel like an ass because I yelp like a lap dog everytime it happens and people look at me like I'm nuts. That shit hurts!
-
Day 112
I am wondering what motivates some of us to be so involved with KTC and the people who come, go and stay here. Of course, there are a number of possible reasons why.
But who believes we get so involved because we're trying to set the quit bar higher and higher and higher? Or that we get crazy and talk shit to put more and more skin in the game?
Let me explain.
It might not surface while I ream out someone's ass for not posting roll or for being a general cocksucker, but I do believe that my whole motivation is to make it IMPOSSIBLE for me to cave. I want to put myself out there so much, to so many people, that I become a model quitter who cannot, under any circumstances, let people down and be a hypocrite.
I force this upon myself, you know? I sure as hell wasn't born this way. I am not inherently strong. In terms of addiction and habits, I am a natural weakling. If Darwin was alive today, he'd use me as an example of the weakest being crushed. But because I want to be quit, I need to CHANGE what I naturally am.
Because weaklings CANNOT quit. It's that simple.
Well said Dean. There is no doubt in my mind that this site and the people here are the reason I stay quit. I don't want to let down the vets that have supported me, the August brothers that have depended on and also supported me, or the noobs that need support. Being involved definitely gives you a strong quit.
-
my mouth still feels off
Honestly, Glenn, your mouth still feels off because there is no tobacco in it. So does mine. Every day.
Think of it this way: You probably didn't get used to the ridges and leukoplakia and bumps two decades ago, when you'd been dipping only six or 12 months. It took hardcore use and addiction to get used to that.
Same thing now, but in reverse.
Probably right. It doesn't 'hurt' anymore, but it still feels like a put a whole tin in my mouth. Stale.
I know I'm fucking paranoid, but i have been biting through my cheek like it's a piece of bubble-yum..what the hell can I do to stop? I feel like an ass because I yelp like a lap dog everytime it happens and people look at me like I'm nuts. That shit hurts!
I've done it once or twice myself 'disco. While chowing down on a wad of gum that I am working over to keep the damn dip out of my face.
-
There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
That was fucking awesome....and gross. Entertaining. I am a bored sumbitch tonight. This shit is priceless.
-
Just had this conversation with my wife, while I was in the kitchen holding my son:
Dean: *putting dishes away...comes across steak knife...holds it like I am ready to slash with it, handle palmed and blade facing rear/outward from forearm...makes thrusting noises...son laughs*
Wife: Honey.
Dean: What?
Wife: Are you stupid?
Dean: What? He needs to learn how to knife-fight!
Wife: Idiot.
Here's one for you........
So my wife and daughter head out yesterday afternoon to attend one of those stupid pre-wedding get togethers to make bows or some shit. My son and I are left behind....thank you baby Jesus!
So after I get him up from his nap, I toss him into our bed in front of the television which is appropriately showing golf. I go about what ever it was I was doing at the time....I look over and he is just chilling watching the tournament. When the time comes to get him, I walk over to the bed, pull back the sheets only to find my son has pulled an "Al Bundy" on me. I'm talking this kid is in there deep...at least half way up his tiny forearm. I ask:
"Matt, what are you doing with your hand down your pants?"
His response, "just relaxing watching the golf."
Mind you he is only two (2). He already refers to it as "junk" and obviously is way ahead of the curve when it comes to relaxing on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Brings a tear to a father's eye to see his son grow up so fast.
Next weekend, we learn the ins and outs of knife fighting from Uncle Dean!
This is a perfect example of instinct vs. learned behavior.
This is pure instinct.
Where the hell have I been all this time? This is a cool place to hang.
Stretch, that is some funny shit!
-
There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
That was fucking awesome....and gross. Entertaining. I am a bored sumbitch tonight. This shit is priceless.
Dean!!! This is brutal truth. I think so highly of you, and this does NOT lower my opinion of you in the least, but it does make me terrified of men. Really, really terrified. I might have to become gay. :(
-
There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
That was fucking awesome....and gross. Entertaining. I am a bored sumbitch tonight. This shit is priceless.
Dean!!! This is brutal truth. I think so highly of you, and this does NOT lower my opinion of you in the least, but it does make me terrified of men. Really, really terrified. I might have to become gay. :(
You think highly of Dean?!? I'm not saying he doesn't tell some nice stories, in fact I do recall a knife fight between him and a small child, reminds me of I'm better than your kids (http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=irule). Back to my point, if you were convinced Dean was a good guy you could possibly be gay and just not know it.
-
There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
That was fucking awesome....and gross. Entertaining. I am a bored sumbitch tonight. This shit is priceless.
Dean!!! This is brutal truth. I think so highly of you, and this does NOT lower my opinion of you in the least, but it does make me terrified of men. Really, really terrified. I might have to become gay. :(
You think highly of Dean?!? I'm not saying he doesn't tell some nice stories, in fact I do recall a knife fight between him and a small child, reminds me of I'm better than your kids (http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=irule). Back to my point, if you were convinced Dean was a good guy you could possibly be gay and just not know it.
LOL! So your saying most men don't think this way about poor, sweet, innocent drunk girls? I think Dean just told the truth that most men won't admit. Please correct me if I'm wrong. I would love to believe that most men are good and decent, but from my experience, I'm thinking Dean's thoughts are pretty typical - the spitting part, well that's absolutely repulsive, 'puking' so we'll ignore that.
-
There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
That was fucking awesome....and gross. Entertaining. I am a bored sumbitch tonight. This shit is priceless.
Dean!!! This is brutal truth. I think so highly of you, and this does NOT lower my opinion of you in the least, but it does make me terrified of men. Really, really terrified. I might have to become gay. :(
You think highly of Dean?!? I'm not saying he doesn't tell some nice stories, in fact I do recall a knife fight between him and a small child, reminds me of I'm better than your kids (http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=irule). Back to my point, if you were convinced Dean was a good guy you could possibly be gay and just not know it.
LOL! So your saying most men don't think this way about poor, sweet, innocent drunk girls? I think Dean just told the truth that most men won't admit. Please correct me if I'm wrong. I would love to believe that most men are good and decent, but from my experience, I'm thinking Dean's thoughts are pretty typical - the spitting part, well that's absolutely repulsive, 'puking' so we'll ignore that.
You're missing the point here.
Some girls just deserve it. 'boob'
-
There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
That was fucking awesome....and gross. Entertaining. I am a bored sumbitch tonight. This shit is priceless.
Dean!!! This is brutal truth. I think so highly of you, and this does NOT lower my opinion of you in the least, but it does make me terrified of men. Really, really terrified. I might have to become gay. :(
You think highly of Dean?!? I'm not saying he doesn't tell some nice stories, in fact I do recall a knife fight between him and a small child, reminds me of I'm better than your kids (http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=irule). Back to my point, if you were convinced Dean was a good guy you could possibly be gay and just not know it.
LOL! So your saying most men don't think this way about poor, sweet, innocent drunk girls? I think Dean just told the truth that most men won't admit. Please correct me if I'm wrong. I would love to believe that most men are good and decent, but from my experience, I'm thinking Dean's thoughts are pretty typical - the spitting part, well that's absolutely repulsive, 'puking' so we'll ignore that.
You're missing the point here.
Some girls just deserve it. 'boob'
Some girls WANT it.
-
There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
That was fucking awesome....and gross. Entertaining. I am a bored sumbitch tonight. This shit is priceless.
Dean!!! This is brutal truth. I think so highly of you, and this does NOT lower my opinion of you in the least, but it does make me terrified of men. Really, really terrified. I might have to become gay. :(
You think highly of Dean?!? I'm not saying he doesn't tell some nice stories, in fact I do recall a knife fight between him and a small child, reminds me of I'm better than your kids (http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=irule). Back to my point, if you were convinced Dean was a good guy you could possibly be gay and just not know it.
LOL! So your saying most men don't think this way about poor, sweet, innocent drunk girls? I think Dean just told the truth that most men won't admit. Please correct me if I'm wrong. I would love to believe that most men are good and decent, but from my experience, I'm thinking Dean's thoughts are pretty typical - the spitting part, well that's absolutely repulsive, 'puking' so we'll ignore that.
You're missing the point here.
Some girls just deserve it. 'boob'
Some girls WANT it.
Some girls want to do it to you 'drool'
-
Day 133
I've realized that one of the bonuses of having a toddler is he/she is a perpetual scapegoat for my farts.
I can't abuse this privilege. The wife would definitely catch on eventually. But from time to time, if I can eke one out silently and do my finest acting, I can even fart when my wife is sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME.
"Oooo, Jack...did you do poops?"
Goddamn right. Jack did poops.
OWNAGE
-
Day 133
I've realized that one of the bonuses of having a toddler is he/she is a perpetual scapegoat for my farts.
I can't abuse this privilege. The wife would definitely catch on eventually. But from time to time, if I can eke one out silently and do my finest acting, I can even fart when my wife is sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME.
"Oooo, Jack...did you do poops?"
Goddamn right. Jack did poops.
OWNAGE
A dog works just as well and is a hell of a lot cheaper!!!!! :D
-
Day 133
I've realized that one of the bonuses of having a toddler is he/she is a perpetual scapegoat for my farts.
I can't abuse this privilege. The wife would definitely catch on eventually. But from time to time, if I can eke one out silently and do my finest acting, I can even fart when my wife is sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME.
"Oooo, Jack...did you do poops?"
Goddamn right. Jack did poops.
OWNAGE
A dog works just as well and is a hell of a lot cheaper!!!!! :D
Yea, but if your dog is anything like mine, he has a very distinct smell that I can not reproduce.
-
Day 133
"...a perpetual scapegoat for my farts..."
Funny story about farting...
I was in church with my wife on Sunday.
Sunday also happened to be Day #2 of a serious case of ass rot for me.
I mean really bad gas.
Like poisonous.
But as the service began, I wasn't sure if my butt-reek was still there or not.
Anxious to return to a ass-blasting-with-reckless-abandon status, I decided to float a test-toot to see if my shit still stank.
Deftly, I let one bubble out.
It was really small and audibly, completely undetectable.
If it could have been seen by the naked eye it would have been cute, like a Beanie Baby or something.
But my god, did that shit stink.
If you could equate that thing in parts per million, it would be like gagging from a teaspoon of rabbit shit in the Pacific Ocean.
It was horrible.
And, as you might imagine, I was fascinated and revolted at the same time.
In glancing at my wife though, she was less than fascinated.
Praise the Lord.
-
HA!
And can someone fucking tell me how in the world a man's wife KNOWS that her husband is responsible for the given stink?
Seriously...I see farts as God's little starfish snowflakes...each is different and special.
Yet SOMEHOW, even if I do the best straight face in my life, my wife knows it belongs to me.
What a whore.
-
HA!
And can someone fucking tell me how in the world a man's wife KNOWS that her husband is responsible for the given stink?
Seriously...I see farts as God's little starfish snowflakes...each is different and special.
Yet SOMEHOW, even if I do the best straight face in my life, my wife knows it belongs to me.
What a whore.
But has she ever tried to pass one of hers off on you? My wife pulled that shit when she was prego. I blamed it on the hormones! Bitch!
-
But has she ever tried to pass one of hers off on you?
You might not believe this, but my wife - in the dozen years I have been with her - has never farted in front of me. I swear it on my life.
She does, however, freebase in front of our son.
-
Day 133
I've realized that one of the bonuses of having a toddler is he/she is a perpetual scapegoat for my farts.
I can't abuse this privilege. The wife would definitely catch on eventually. But from time to time, if I can eke one out silently and do my finest acting, I can even fart when my wife is sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME.
"Oooo, Jack...did you do poops?"
Goddamn right. Jack did poops.
OWNAGE
What the hell are you feeding a toddler so that it smells like adult farts? At least I can get by with my 10 year old, hell my wife'll pop one and blame him.
-
But has she ever tried to pass one of hers off on you?
You might not believe this, but my wife - in the dozen years I have been with her - has never farted in front of me. I swear it on my life.
She does, however, freebase in front of our son.
I thought it was great early on when mrs. disco was comfortable enough with me and that she would let out these cute little cotton-puffers when we were alone. I would act all aghast and she would blush and coyly deny it was her.
Kid let me tell you this about that...those angel-kiss poots were a test. A toe in the water if you will. They have evolved into something evil...something...well remember how you weren't supposed to feed gremlins after midnight? Its that bad.
-
But has she ever tried to pass one of hers off on you?
You might not believe this, but my wife - in the dozen years I have been with her - has never farted in front of me. I swear it on my life.
She does, however, freebase in front of our son.
I thought it was great early on when mrs. disco was comfortable enough with me and that she would let out these cute little cotton-puffers when we were alone. I would act all aghast and she would blush and coyly deny it was her.
Kid let me tell you this about that...those angel-kiss poots were a test. A toe in the water if you will. They have evolved into something evil...something...well remember how you weren't supposed to feed gremlins after midnight? Its that bad.
LMAO! Jay, I'm living your nightmare as well. My cute, lovely wife now lays down these monstrous butt blasts that sound like a mixture of somebody stepping on bubble wrap, and what i imagine to be the sound of ripping leather. I keep Holy water by the bed, because these farts are demonic!
-
But has she ever tried to pass one of hers off on you?
You might not believe this, but my wife - in the dozen years I have been with her - has never farted in front of me. I swear it on my life.
She does, however, freebase in front of our son.
I thought it was great early on when mrs. disco was comfortable enough with me and that she would let out these cute little cotton-puffers when we were alone. I would act all aghast and she would blush and coyly deny it was her.
Kid let me tell you this about that...those angel-kiss poots were a test. A toe in the water if you will. They have evolved into something evil...something...well remember how you weren't supposed to feed gremlins after midnight? Its that bad.
LMAO! Jay, I'm living your nightmare as well. My cute, lovely wife now lays down these monstrous butt blasts that sound like a mixture of somebody stepping on bubble wrap, and what i imagine to be the sound of ripping leather. I keep Holy water by the bed, because these farts are demonic!
The only one farting in my house is me. And maybe the dogs.
-
But has she ever tried to pass one of hers off on you?
You might not believe this, but my wife - in the dozen years I have been with her - has never farted in front of me. I swear it on my life.
She does, however, freebase in front of our son.
I thought it was great early on when mrs. disco was comfortable enough with me and that she would let out these cute little cotton-puffers when we were alone. I would act all aghast and she would blush and coyly deny it was her.
Kid let me tell you this about that...those angel-kiss poots were a test. A toe in the water if you will. They have evolved into something evil...something...well remember how you weren't supposed to feed gremlins after midnight? Its that bad.
LMAO! Jay, I'm living your nightmare as well. My cute, lovely wife now lays down these monstrous butt blasts that sound like a mixture of somebody stepping on bubble wrap, and what i imagine to be the sound of ripping leather. I keep Holy water by the bed, because these farts are demonic!
The only one farting in my house is me. And maybe the dogs.
the dog farts a lot when wifey is around huh...
-
But has she ever tried to pass one of hers off on you?
You might not believe this, but my wife - in the dozen years I have been with her - has never farted in front of me. I swear it on my life.
She does, however, freebase in front of our son.
I thought it was great early on when mrs. disco was comfortable enough with me and that she would let out these cute little cotton-puffers when we were alone. I would act all aghast and she would blush and coyly deny it was her.
Kid let me tell you this about that...those angel-kiss poots were a test. A toe in the water if you will. They have evolved into something evil...something...well remember how you weren't supposed to feed gremlins after midnight? Its that bad.
LMAO! Jay, I'm living your nightmare as well. My cute, lovely wife now lays down these monstrous butt blasts that sound like a mixture of somebody stepping on bubble wrap, and what i imagine to be the sound of ripping leather. I keep Holy water by the bed, because these farts are demonic!
The only one farting in my house is me. And maybe the dogs.
the dog farts a lot when wifey is around huh...
LMAO!!!!
NO, NEVER.
And she don't poop either.
-
Anxious to return to a ass-blasting-with-reckless-abandon status, I decided to float a test-toot to see if my shit still stank.
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup' F'ing Classic SWJ!!!!!!! 'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup'
Where was all this wisdom during your first 100 days??????
-
But has she ever tried to pass one of hers off on you?
You might not believe this, but my wife - in the dozen years I have been with her - has never farted in front of me. I swear it on my life.
She does, however, freebase in front of our son.
I thought it was great early on when mrs. disco was comfortable enough with me and that she would let out these cute little cotton-puffers when we were alone. I would act all aghast and she would blush and coyly deny it was her.
Kid let me tell you this about that...those angel-kiss poots were a test. A toe in the water if you will. They have evolved into something evil...something...well remember how you weren't supposed to feed gremlins after midnight? Its that bad.
LMAO! Jay, I'm living your nightmare as well. My cute, lovely wife now lays down these monstrous butt blasts that sound like a mixture of somebody stepping on bubble wrap, and what i imagine to be the sound of ripping leather. I keep Holy water by the bed, because these farts are demonic!
The only one farting in my house is me. And maybe the dogs.
the dog farts a lot when wifey is around huh...
LMAO!!!!
NO, NEVER.
And she don't poop either.
I'm with you on this FtheKodiak!!! Iv'e been married 14 years and have yet to hear or smell one of my wife's farts. (Is she a ninja farter???) I haven't even walked into the bathroom to smell the stank after she poops. ie.... I am beginning to believe she wasn't lying when she told me 15 years ago that "her shit don't stink"!!!! Either that or she has majic smell dust or something!
-
Paramahansa Yogananda was to the westernization of Eastern religious thought what L. Ron Hubbard was to the Hollywoodification of religion overall. In the 1920s, Paramahansa Yogananda began to make Hinduism cool, which paved the way for all sorts of ridiculous shit, such as American Buddhism (which is laughable, considering that these hippies are STILL scratching the herpes sores they first received in the late 1960s, thanks to hedonism run amok). Anyway...
I remember reading the yogi's "Man's Eternal Quest" in my late teens, and I was struck by how goddamn awesome he was and how much contempt I had for him - mainly because I didn't believe a word he said, and also because I was not awesome.
I was weak. I was an addict. Addicted to everything I ever touched. Paramahansa Yogananda was all about self control, and I had none.
On one hand, I tend to dismiss all things Eastern because I hate China. But on the other hand, I'd like to believe that every human is capable of really controlling himself or herself. ALL of us...without sacrificing who we are.
I bring this up because I am getting fat (in relative terms). I'm 6'1", and I usually weigh about 190. I have cracked the 200 mark (which I have not done since 2003), and I am not fucking happy about it.
I know why I've put on weight. It's obvious: I quit dipping, and the only thing that has made me feel any better is eating.
Even knowing that food will make me feel better, I still haven't eaten everything I've wanted whenever I've wanted. I still try to moderate my intake. I try to exhibit self control.
But I am starting to think that I need to do what I always do: all or nothing. I either need to get on the food wagon or get off it. I should either eat like a lowly Five Points hooker or go back to the nutrition regime I usually follow (and then some).
I'm really torn.
Eat healthy, have a cup or two of coffee in the morning, and a cup or two in the afternoon. Actually, this has helped the "FUUUUCK! Can't go to the bathroom!" issue with me. I'm on two ritalin per day for ADD, and I usually have an incredibly stiff dose of caffeine in the morning, one at lunch, and sit and drink herbal tea to calm down before bed at night.
I'm finding I don't go although I know I should. I don't get that "Ahem. I'm nature. I'm calling." feeling. I just know it's going on. I always say to myself "Nah. Just imagining things." Six hours later, I get "I'M NATURE! I'M CALLING GOD DAMMIT! You have around 30 seconds before you commit the social faux pax of the millennium, the dreaded brown rain of doom. What are you waiting for? RUN, damn you!"
Aside from that VERY unpleasant side effect, I'm finding that my weight is stable at 225. Since I came home September of last year, I'm at 225, compared with the 28X (Whatever it was. Two-eighty-something-or-other) that I was when I walked back through that door. I lost a good twenty pounds in the last month. Part of it was starting dipping again... Then I quit, gained five pounds back. Then I actually bothered to take my ritalin instead of going on-and-off with it like a moron.
My weight started to drop... Then I got ahold of Mt. Dew and coffee, and then Monster (bad idea, but still fun as hell) and my weight started to plummet. Now I'm having trouble losing more. Exercize moar! I find that, oddly enough, I have almost no appetite now. Strange, isn't it?
Watch your diet and do some cardio/muscle building exercises, and you'll probably be good. One night I mowed over an acre of yard with a pushmower in 85* heat, and I found I was three pounds lower the next day. I said "No, not all water weight. I haven't had more than 24 oz. of water to drink per day in the last three... I wanted to lose more weight, but... Damn... That was quick."
Good luck to you, brother.
I'm a Christian man, but I find some very interesting things in eastern philosophy. Not "WOW THIS IS THE MEANING OF LIFE!" interesting, but still... interesting...
-
Paramahansa Yogananda was to the westernization of Eastern religious thought what L. Ron Hubbard was to the Hollywoodification of religion overall. In the 1920s, Paramahansa Yogananda began to make Hinduism cool, which paved the way for all sorts of ridiculous shit, such as American Buddhism (which is laughable, considering that these hippies are STILL scratching the herpes sores they first received in the late 1960s, thanks to hedonism run amok). Anyway...
I remember reading the yogi's "Man's Eternal Quest" in my late teens, and I was struck by how goddamn awesome he was and how much contempt I had for him - mainly because I didn't believe a word he said, and also because I was not awesome.
I was weak. I was an addict. Addicted to everything I ever touched. Paramahansa Yogananda was all about self control, and I had none.
On one hand, I tend to dismiss all things Eastern because I hate China. But on the other hand, I'd like to believe that every human is capable of really controlling himself or herself. ALL of us...without sacrificing who we are.
I bring this up because I am getting fat (in relative terms). I'm 6'1", and I usually weigh about 190. I have cracked the 200 mark (which I have not done since 2003), and I am not fucking happy about it.
I know why I've put on weight. It's obvious: I quit dipping, and the only thing that has made me feel any better is eating.
Even knowing that food will make me feel better, I still haven't eaten everything I've wanted whenever I've wanted. I still try to moderate my intake. I try to exhibit self control.
But I am starting to think that I need to do what I always do: all or nothing. I either need to get on the food wagon or get off it. I should either eat like a lowly Five Points hooker or go back to the nutrition regime I usually follow (and then some).
I'm really torn.
Eat healthy, have a cup or two of coffee in the morning, and a cup or two in the afternoon. Actually, this has helped the "FUUUUCK! Can't go to the bathroom!" issue with me. I'm on two ritalin per day for ADD, and I usually have an incredibly stiff dose of caffeine in the morning, one at lunch, and sit and drink herbal tea to calm down before bed at night.
I'm finding I don't go although I know I should. I don't get that "Ahem. I'm nature. I'm calling." feeling. I just know it's going on. I always say to myself "Nah. Just imagining things." Six hours later, I get "I'M NATURE! I'M CALLING GOD DAMMIT! You have around 30 seconds before you commit the social faux pax of the millennium, the dreaded brown rain of doom. What are you waiting for? RUN, damn you!"
Aside from that VERY unpleasant side effect, I'm finding that my weight is stable at 225. Since I came home September of last year, I'm at 225, compared with the 28X (Whatever it was. Two-eighty-something-or-other) that I was when I walked back through that door. I lost a good twenty pounds in the last month. Part of it was starting dipping again... Then I quit, gained five pounds back. Then I actually bothered to take my ritalin instead of going on-and-off with it like a moron.
My weight started to drop... Then I got ahold of Mt. Dew and coffee, and then Monster (bad idea, but still fun as hell) and my weight started to plummet. Now I'm having trouble losing more. Exercize moar! I find that, oddly enough, I have almost no appetite now. Strange, isn't it?
Watch your diet and do some cardio/muscle building exercises, and you'll probably be good. One night I mowed over an acre of yard with a pushmower in 85* heat, and I found I was three pounds lower the next day. I said "No, not all water weight. I haven't had more than 24 oz. of water to drink per day in the last three... I wanted to lose more weight, but... Damn... That was quick."
Good luck to you, brother.
I'm a Christian man, but I find some very interesting things in eastern philosophy. Not "WOW THIS IS THE MEANING OF LIFE!" interesting, but still... interesting...
Put the cup down, back away from the coffee pot and take a nice, deep breath.
Ahhhhhhh!
-
Dean, you are not a bloated menstrating whale because you quit dipping... You are a fat fuck bc your gaping pie hole is a dumpster!!!!
Now go rake your desktop zen sand garden and eat a bag of carrot sticks...
Your friend,
Ray
-
Dean, you are not a bloated menstrating whale because you quit dipping... You are a fat fuck bc your gaping pie hole is a dumpster!!!!
Now go rake your desktop zen sand garden and eat a bag of carrot sticks...
Your friend,
Ray
You are kind of a dick huh? No wonder you amuse me with your posts :P
-
Dean, you are not a bloated menstrating whale because you quit dipping... You are a fat fuck bc your gaping pie hole is a dumpster!!!!
Now go rake your desktop zen sand garden and eat a bag of carrot sticks...
Your friend,
Ray
I am eating carrot sticks out of your wife's labia right now, Ray.
-
Dean, you are not a bloated menstrating whale because you quit dipping... You are a fat fuck bc your gaping pie hole is a dumpster!!!!
Now go rake your desktop zen sand garden and eat a bag of carrot sticks...
Your friend,
Ray
I am eating carrot sticks out of your wife's labia right now, Ray.
I hope theres no dipping sauce..............
-
Day 143
My esteemed quit brother Ray just got me to thinking about something I want to address during my 2012 presidential bid: mom jokes.
I kinda wanted to use Ray's mom - and not his wife - in the context of that labia joke. After all, old pussy is funnier than new pussy. But tact prevented me from doing so. People get really sensitive about their moms. And it would have been particularly unfortunate if Ray got truly upset about me mentioning his mom. He is a friend, and I'd feel terrible.
But I don't want it to be that way. I want all men to feel free to talk shit about someone's mother without fear of retribution or punishment. I want this codified into law at the highest level. All men must laugh - even unwillingly - at mother jokes, just like we all have to pay taxes to fund bottomless social programs...unwillingly.
Speaking of bottomless, I'd like to see Ray's mom bottomless. Yes. Right now. In all her creamy-skinned glory. And afterward, I want to hear Ray laugh about it, because IT'S THE LAW.
-
I hope theres no dipping sauce..............
*pukes a little*
-
Its all new pussy if u haven't fucked it yet....
-
What up Dean... just saying Hi
-
Its all new pussy if u haven't fucked it yet....
'Cheers'
-
Ah the coot, yes yes you are feeling some pain, a sense of loss perhaps? You quit for 100 days it was almost fun, a challenge, the community and the brotherhood were exciting and new. But now the first kiss is over and your quit is not so novel eh? Slowly reality sets in that you are really quit and your not going back THIS MY FRIEND IS A GOOD THING. However, Sally Rotten Crotch nic bitch isnt done with you yet, she's starting to whisper in your ear..... "Dean baby enough of these games, you know you can't leave me forever so why don't you just give up?" "Don't you love me anymore?"
I too hit a post Hof funk that was harder than the first two weeks of my quit. Its a gut check boy o .
There is nothing wrong with you a dip could fix, Chew does not fill a void in your life but creates one. You have lost nothing by giving it up. You say you still love it? What did you love you don't have now? Did it enhance your enjoyment of life? I doubt it. Perhaps your spouse found you more attractive, she always liked the pics in National Geographic of the dudes with a plate in their lower lip. Were you a better dad ? constantly hiding from your family or holding your baby in one hand and a spitter in the other? It helps you relax?, yes yes, but medically you know that's bullshit, it raised your bp and heart rate. the relaxation you felt was just getting back to normal because you fed the addiction and removed the withdrawl. Maybe you are secretly in love with Ahmed the gas station attendant, you miss going in and saying. " no not that can the other one,no to your left, no not the fucking peach god dammit the Copenhagen you fucker" All the while wanting to jump behind the counter and kill him cause your fiending.
There is nothing to miss Dean, its a scam.
The nic bitch is the mental version of the Sham Wow fag, you need to turn the fucking channel or put in some ear plugs. Honestly what helped me is finding some other poor deluded addict on his day one and watching him struggle like hell. It was almost sadistic at first. I felt satiatied when they hit the fog and the funk and the headaches and first no sleep then can't sleep enough, and the mouth sores and the fear of cancer. Watching them helped me stay quit because I hated that and won't do it again. I remember being desperate to stop and each night laying in bed thinking tomorrow tomorrow I wont dip. Watching guys cave forces me to remember that and not become complacent with my quit. Then it turned from love of dip and a sense of loss to a militant hatred. You have to cultivate that hate. Watching people struggle today pisses me off, not at them, but at the addiction. It is crazy the toll nic takes on us both mentally and physically. Find some strugglers in the new group and try to shepard them thru to the Hof. Don't get discouraged with yourself if they cave, many will. It will only remind you how far you have come and what you left behind. This will strengthen your quit. If they do make it, sharing the struggle with them will strengthen your quit as well.
Good luck Dean The Quitter
Good +1
SM
-
Ah the coot, yes yes you are feeling some pain, a sense of loss perhaps? You quit for 100 days it was almost fun, a challenge, the community and the brotherhood were exciting and new. But now the first kiss is over and your quit is not so novel eh? Slowly reality sets in that you are really quit and your not going back THIS MY FRIEND IS A GOOD THING. However, Sally Rotten Crotch nic bitch isnt done with you yet, she's starting to whisper in your ear..... "Dean baby enough of these games, you know you can't leave me forever so why don't you just give up?" "Don't you love me anymore?"
I too hit a post Hof funk that was harder than the first two weeks of my quit. Its a gut check boy o .
There is nothing wrong with you a dip could fix, Chew does not fill a void in your life but creates one. You have lost nothing by giving it up. You say you still love it? What did you love you don't have now? Did it enhance your enjoyment of life? I doubt it. Perhaps your spouse found you more attractive, she always liked the pics in National Geographic of the dudes with a plate in their lower lip. Were you a better dad ? constantly hiding from your family or holding your baby in one hand and a spitter in the other? It helps you relax?, yes yes, but medically you know that's bullshit, it raised your bp and heart rate. the relaxation you felt was just getting back to normal because you fed the addiction and removed the withdrawl. Maybe you are secretly in love with Ahmed the gas station attendant, you miss going in and saying. " no not that can the other one,no to your left, no not the fucking peach god dammit the Copenhagen you fucker" All the while wanting to jump behind the counter and kill him cause your fiending.
There is nothing to miss Dean, its a scam.
The nic bitch is the mental version of the Sham Wow fag, you need to turn the fucking channel or put in some ear plugs. Honestly what helped me is finding some other poor deluded addict on his day one and watching him struggle like hell. It was almost sadistic at first. I felt satiatied when they hit the fog and the funk and the headaches and first no sleep then can't sleep enough, and the mouth sores and the fear of cancer. Watching them helped me stay quit because I hated that and won't do it again. I remember being desperate to stop and each night laying in bed thinking tomorrow tomorrow I wont dip. Watching guys cave forces me to remember that and not become complacent with my quit. Then it turned from love of dip and a sense of loss to a militant hatred. You have to cultivate that hate. Watching people struggle today pisses me off, not at them, but at the addiction. It is crazy the toll nic takes on us both mentally and physically. Find some strugglers in the new group and try to shepard them thru to the Hof. Don't get discouraged with yourself if they cave, many will. It will only remind you how far you have come and what you left behind. This will strengthen your quit. If they do make it, sharing the struggle with them will strengthen your quit as well.
Good luck Dean The Quitter
Good +1
SM
Dam you're good. :wub:
-
Ah the coot, yes yes you are feeling some pain, a sense of loss perhaps? You quit for 100 days it was almost fun, a challenge, the community and the brotherhood were exciting and new. But now the first kiss is over and your quit is not so novel eh? Slowly reality sets in that you are really quit and your not going back THIS MY FRIEND IS A GOOD THING. However, Sally Rotten Crotch nic bitch isnt done with you yet, she's starting to whisper in your ear..... "Dean baby enough of these games, you know you can't leave me forever so why don't you just give up?" "Don't you love me anymore?"Â
I too hit a post Hof funk that was harder than the first two weeks of my quit. Its a gut check boy o .
 There is nothing wrong with you a dip could fix, Chew does not fill a void in your life but creates one. You have lost nothing by giving it up. You say you still love it? What did you love you don't have now? Did it enhance your enjoyment of life? I doubt it. Perhaps your spouse found you more attractive, she always liked the pics in National Geographic of the dudes with a plate in their lower lip. Were you a better dad ? constantly hiding from your family or holding your baby in one hand and a spitter in the other? It helps you relax?, yes yes, but medically you know that's bullshit, it raised your bp and heart rate. the relaxation you felt was just getting back to normal because you fed the addiction and removed the withdrawl. Maybe you are secretly in love with Ahmed the gas station attendant, you miss going in and saying. " no not that can the other one,no to your left, no not the fucking peach god dammit the Copenhagen you fucker" All the while wanting to jump behind the counter and kill him cause your fiending.
 There is nothing to miss Dean, its a scam.
The nic bitch is the mental version of the Sham Wow fag, you need to turn the fucking channel or put in some ear plugs. Honestly what helped me is finding some other poor deluded addict on his day one and watching him struggle like hell. It was almost sadistic at first. I felt satiatied when they hit the fog and the funk and the headaches and first no sleep then can't sleep enough, and the mouth sores and the fear of cancer. Watching them helped me stay quit because I hated that and won't do it again. I remember being desperate to stop and each night laying in bed thinking tomorrow tomorrow I wont dip. Watching guys cave forces me to remember that and not become complacent with my quit. Then it turned from love of dip and a sense of loss to a militant hatred. You have to cultivate that hate. Watching people struggle today pisses me off, not at them, but at the addiction. It is crazy the toll nic takes on us both mentally and physically. Find some strugglers in the new group and try to shepard them thru to the Hof. Don't get discouraged with yourself if they cave, many will. It will only remind you how far you have come and what you left behind. This will strengthen your quit. If they do make it, sharing the struggle with them will strengthen your quit as well.
Good luck Dean The Quitter
Good +1
SM
Dam you're good. :wub:
Can a mod put this in words of wisdom??
SM that was just what I needed to hear, thank you.
-
Ah the coot, yes yes you are feeling some pain, a sense of loss perhaps? You quit for 100 days it was almost fun, a challenge, the community and the brotherhood were exciting and new. But now the first kiss is over and your quit is not so novel eh? Slowly reality sets in that you are really quit and your not going back THIS MY FRIEND IS A GOOD THING. However, Sally Rotten Crotch nic bitch isnt done with you yet, she's starting to whisper in your ear..... "Dean baby enough of these games, you know you can't leave me forever so why don't you just give up?" "Don't you love me anymore?"Â
I too hit a post Hof funk that was harder than the first two weeks of my quit. Its a gut check boy o .
  There is nothing wrong with you a dip could fix, Chew does not fill a void in your life but creates one. You have lost nothing by giving it up. You say you still love it? What did you love you don't have now? Did it enhance your enjoyment of life? I doubt it. Perhaps your spouse found you more attractive, she always liked the pics in National Geographic of the dudes with a plate in their lower lip. Were you a better dad ? constantly hiding from your family or holding your baby in one hand and a spitter in the other? It helps you relax?, yes yes, but medically you know that's bullshit, it raised your bp and heart rate. the relaxation you felt was just getting back to normal because you fed the addiction and removed the withdrawl. Maybe you are secretly in love with Ahmed the gas station attendant, you miss going in and saying. " no not that can the other one,no to your left, no not the fucking peach god dammit the Copenhagen you fucker" All the while wanting to jump behind the counter and kill him cause your fiending.
 There is nothing to miss Dean, its a scam.
The nic bitch is the mental version of the Sham Wow fag, you need to turn the fucking channel or put in some ear plugs. Honestly what helped me is finding some other poor deluded addict on his day one and watching him struggle like hell. It was almost sadistic at first. I felt satiatied when they hit the fog and the funk and the headaches and first no sleep then can't sleep enough, and the mouth sores and the fear of cancer. Watching them helped me stay quit because I hated that and won't do it again. I remember being desperate to stop and each night laying in bed thinking tomorrow tomorrow I wont dip. Watching guys cave forces me to remember that and not become complacent with my quit. Then it turned from love of dip and a sense of loss to a militant hatred. You have to cultivate that hate. Watching people struggle today pisses me off, not at them, but at the addiction. It is crazy the toll nic takes on us both mentally and physically. Find some strugglers in the new group and try to shepard them thru to the Hof. Don't get discouraged with yourself if they cave, many will. It will only remind you how far you have come and what you left behind. This will strengthen your quit. If they do make it, sharing the struggle with them will strengthen your quit as well.
Good luck Dean The Quitter
Good +1
SM
Dam you're good. :wub:
Can a mod put this in words of wisdom??
SM that was just what I needed to hear, thank you.
Skoal Monster, that is a brilliant post, thanks. You just strengthened my quit, no doubt.
Dean, Cubs, getcha mojo back guys, tell the nic bitch to fuck the hell off!!!
-
Ah the coot, yes yes you are feeling some pain, a sense of loss perhaps? You quit for 100 days it was almost fun, a challenge, the community and the brotherhood were exciting and new. But now the first kiss is over and your quit is not so novel eh? Slowly reality sets in that you are really quit and your not going back THIS MY FRIEND IS A GOOD THING. However, Sally Rotten Crotch nic bitch isnt done with you yet, she's starting to whisper in your ear..... "Dean baby enough of these games, you know you can't leave me forever so why don't you just give up?" "Don't you love me anymore?"Â
I too hit a post Hof funk that was harder than the first two weeks of my quit. Its a gut check boy o .
  There is nothing wrong with you a dip could fix, Chew does not fill a void in your life but creates one. You have lost nothing by giving it up. You say you still love it? What did you love you don't have now? Did it enhance your enjoyment of life? I doubt it. Perhaps your spouse found you more attractive, she always liked the pics in National Geographic of the dudes with a plate in their lower lip. Were you a better dad ? constantly hiding from your family or holding your baby in one hand and a spitter in the other? It helps you relax?, yes yes, but medically you know that's bullshit, it raised your bp and heart rate. the relaxation you felt was just getting back to normal because you fed the addiction and removed the withdrawl. Maybe you are secretly in love with Ahmed the gas station attendant, you miss going in and saying. " no not that can the other one,no to your left, no not the fucking peach god dammit the Copenhagen you fucker" All the while wanting to jump behind the counter and kill him cause your fiending.
 There is nothing to miss Dean, its a scam.
The nic bitch is the mental version of the Sham Wow fag, you need to turn the fucking channel or put in some ear plugs. Honestly what helped me is finding some other poor deluded addict on his day one and watching him struggle like hell. It was almost sadistic at first. I felt satiatied when they hit the fog and the funk and the headaches and first no sleep then can't sleep enough, and the mouth sores and the fear of cancer. Watching them helped me stay quit because I hated that and won't do it again. I remember being desperate to stop and each night laying in bed thinking tomorrow tomorrow I wont dip. Watching guys cave forces me to remember that and not become complacent with my quit. Then it turned from love of dip and a sense of loss to a militant hatred. You have to cultivate that hate. Watching people struggle today pisses me off, not at them, but at the addiction. It is crazy the toll nic takes on us both mentally and physically. Find some strugglers in the new group and try to shepard them thru to the Hof. Don't get discouraged with yourself if they cave, many will. It will only remind you how far you have come and what you left behind. This will strengthen your quit. If they do make it, sharing the struggle with them will strengthen your quit as well.
Good luck Dean The Quitter
Good +1
SM
Dam you're good. :wub:
Can a mod put this in words of wisdom??
SM that was just what I needed to hear, thank you.
Skoal Monster, that is a brilliant post, thanks. You just strengthened my quit, no doubt.
Dean, Cubs, getcha mojo back guys, tell the nic bitch to fuck the hell off!!!
Great Post Skoal Monster. Couldn't have said it better 'Finger' Dip.
-
Day 156
There was a time in my life when I was a legend. This goes back about 12 or 15 years, but trust me...I was like Dr. Dre and Kurt Cobain and Michael Madsen all wrapped up in a single, awesome unit.
Fast-forward to today, and things have very clearly changed. I no longer set cars on fire or drink until I become a samurai or choke hookers. No no. Today, I worry about the town budget and agonize about weather forecasts and cry myself to sleep to the sounds of Raffi.
I've also quit dipping. In turn, I chew a lot of gum.
"Dean...WTF does gum have to do with dead hookers?"
I know, I know. What's the connection?
Well, in these sedentary, responsible times, an old fool like me looks for good, clean fun. The point being, I've started throwing wads of gum into people's hair.
Needless to say, this is awesome and funny. Seeing people's faces when they realize that *someone* threw gum in their hair is peerless. (Best of all, no one ever suspects ME...I am in my thirties, for Christ's sake, with a toddler in my arms.) It's a big win to know that someone is going to have to either cut off a big chunk of hair (at the roots), or spend a whole night combing peanut butter through her locks.
Try it. You'll laugh.
-
Well, in these sedentary, responsible times, an old fool like me looks for good, clean fun. The point being, I've started throwing wads of gum into people's hair.
Awesome.
In fact, you have reminded me of a story...
Once upon a time, when I too was an accomplished college swordsman, I met a sorority ho at a party.
Due to my animal magnetism and her sloppy drunkenness, I managed to get her back to my dorm room.
At which point I began to work my oral mojo.
As you might imagine, I had her squealing and moaning like she was having a seizure or something.
Her thighs were literally squeezing my ears so hard that I couldn't hear a thing.
I did feel my gum fall out of my mouth though.
Being the chivalrous sort that I am however, I opted to continue my performance without saying anything.
She seemed pretty happy with the way things were going anyway.
So I finished her off and we both fell asleep, safe and secure in post-coitus bliss.
Until she woke me up the next morning...
HER: Hey. *poke poke* Wake up.
ME: What.
HER: I'm pissed.
ME: Already...? How come...?
HER: You know.
ME: ....
HER: You're sick.
ME: What...?
HER: You got Big Red stuck in my muff.
ME: Oh yeah...
Anyway, that morning marked the first time I had given anyone besides myself a haircut.
Down there.
By the time I was done, the gum was out, but her bush looked kind of like a backwards mohawk.
A hawkmo, if you will.
I actually did a pretty good job, now that I think about it.
Strangely though, I never hooked up with her again...
-
funny dean, my new hobby is sticking gum on, display items in stores......... and not getting caught by wife... if i did get busted, i guess its better than isle spitting... nah shed be pissed as fuck anyway.......
ill always be a lowlife scumfuk (thrill seeker actually)
-
funny dean, my new hobby is sticking gum on, display items in stores......... and not getting caught by wife... if i did get busted, i guess its better than isle spitting... nah shed be pissed as fuck anyway.......
ill always be a lowlife scumfuk (thrill seeker actually)
Shit Ray, I was throwing gum in little Jap girls hair back in 1987 at Dagneys. You guys are late bloomers.
-
Well, in these sedentary, responsible times, an old fool like me looks for good, clean fun. The point being, I've started throwing wads of gum into people's hair.
Awesome.
In fact, you have reminded me of a story...
Once upon a time, when I too was an accomplished college swordsman, I met a sorority ho at a party.
Due to my animal magnetism and her sloppy drunkenness, I managed to get her back to my dorm room.
At which point I began to work my oral mojo.
As you might imagine, I had her squealing and moaning like she was having a seizure or something.
Her thighs were literally squeezing my ears so hard that I couldn't hear a thing.
I did feel my gum fall out of my mouth though.
Being the chivalrous sort that I am however, I opted to continue my performance without saying anything.
She seemed pretty happy with the way things were going anyway.
So I finished her off and we both fell asleep, safe and secure in post-coitus bliss.
Until she woke me up the next morning...
HER: Hey. *poke poke* Wake up.
ME: What.
HER: I'm pissed.
ME: Already...? How come...?
HER: You know.
ME: ....
HER: You're sick.
ME: What...?
HER: You got Big Red stuck in my muff.
ME: Oh yeah...
Anyway, that morning marked the first time I had given anyone besides myself a haircut.
Down there.
By the time I was done, the gum was out, but her bush looked kind of like a backwards mohawk.
A hawkmo, if you will.
I actually did a pretty good job, now that I think about it.
Strangely though, I never hooked up with her again...
I had a similar experience in High School when I was doing a bit of Muff Diving with some gum in my mouth.
Needless to say, I was accused of trying to end the "shave it off" battle. I won!
Pure hysterics!
-
Ah the coot, yes yes you are feeling some pain, a sense of loss perhaps? You quit for 100 days it was almost fun, a challenge, the community and the brotherhood were exciting and new. But now the first kiss is over and your quit is not so novel eh? Slowly reality sets in that you are really quit and your not going back THIS MY FRIEND IS A GOOD THING. However, Sally Rotten Crotch nic bitch isnt done with you yet, she's starting to whisper in your ear..... "Dean baby enough of these games, you know you can't leave me forever so why don't you just give up?" "Don't you love me anymore?"
I too hit a post Hof funk that was harder than the first two weeks of my quit. Its a gut check boy o .
There is nothing wrong with you a dip could fix, Chew does not fill a void in your life but creates one. You have lost nothing by giving it up. You say you still love it? What did you love you don't have now? Did it enhance your enjoyment of life? I doubt it. Perhaps your spouse found you more attractive, she always liked the pics in National Geographic of the dudes with a plate in their lower lip. Were you a better dad ? constantly hiding from your family or holding your baby in one hand and a spitter in the other? It helps you relax?, yes yes, but medically you know that's bullshit, it raised your bp and heart rate. the relaxation you felt was just getting back to normal because you fed the addiction and removed the withdrawl. Maybe you are secretly in love with Ahmed the gas station attendant, you miss going in and saying. " no not that can the other one,no to your left, no not the fucking peach god dammit the Copenhagen you fucker" All the while wanting to jump behind the counter and kill him cause your fiending.
There is nothing to miss Dean, its a scam.
The nic bitch is the mental version of the Sham Wow fag, you need to turn the fucking channel or put in some ear plugs. Honestly what helped me is finding some other poor deluded addict on his day one and watching him struggle like hell. It was almost sadistic at first. I felt satiatied when they hit the fog and the funk and the headaches and first no sleep then can't sleep enough, and the mouth sores and the fear of cancer. Watching them helped me stay quit because I hated that and won't do it again. I remember being desperate to stop and each night laying in bed thinking tomorrow tomorrow I wont dip. Watching guys cave forces me to remember that and not become complacent with my quit. Then it turned from love of dip and a sense of loss to a militant hatred. You have to cultivate that hate. Watching people struggle today pisses me off, not at them, but at the addiction. It is crazy the toll nic takes on us both mentally and physically. Find some strugglers in the new group and try to shepard them thru to the Hof. Don't get discouraged with yourself if they cave, many will. It will only remind you how far you have come and what you left behind. This will strengthen your quit. If they do make it, sharing the struggle with them will strengthen your quit as well.
Good luck Dean The Quitter
Good +1
SM
It has been some time I have taken a trip down the "Dean is fucing off his rocker but he makes me laugh my ass off" road.
I decided to wonder around a little bit this afternoon and I happened across this little gem.
In all seriousness, this is a truly a wonderful description and should be shared with all to see.
This my friends, is what it's all about. Thanks SM!
Now back to the crazy dead hooker shit!
Dean - I am still waiting for my pony by the way!
-
Well, in these sedentary, responsible times, an old fool like me looks for good, clean fun. The point being, I've started throwing wads of gum into people's hair.
Awesome.
In fact, you have reminded me of a story...
Once upon a time, when I too was an accomplished college swordsman, I met a sorority ho at a party.
Due to my animal magnetism and her sloppy drunkenness, I managed to get her back to my dorm room.
At which point I began to work my oral mojo.
As you might imagine, I had her squealing and moaning like she was having a seizure or something.
Her thighs were literally squeezing my ears so hard that I couldn't hear a thing.
I did feel my gum fall out of my mouth though.
Being the chivalrous sort that I am however, I opted to continue my performance without saying anything.
She seemed pretty happy with the way things were going anyway.
So I finished her off and we both fell asleep, safe and secure in post-coitus bliss.
Until she woke me up the next morning...
HER: Hey. *poke poke* Wake up.
ME: What.
HER: I'm pissed.
ME: Already...? How come...?
HER: You know.
ME: ....
HER: You're sick.
ME: What...?
HER: You got Big Red stuck in my muff.
ME: Oh yeah...
Anyway, that morning marked the first time I had given anyone besides myself a haircut.
Down there.
By the time I was done, the gum was out, but her bush looked kind of like a backwards mohawk.
A hawkmo, if you will.
I actually did a pretty good job, now that I think about it.
Strangely though, I never hooked up with her again...
You sir have some giant stones!
Going down to lick the ole hairy hatchet wound for a first time college slam pig is a great way to get a little bit of gonaherpasifilaids to enjoy for the rest of the semester.
-
Day 156
There was a time in my life when I was a legend. This goes back about 12 or 15 years, but trust me...I was like Dr. Dre and Kurt Cobain and Michael Madsen all wrapped up in a single, awesome unit.
Fast-forward to today, and things have very clearly changed. I no longer set cars on fire or drink until I become a samurai or choke hookers. No no. Today, I worry about the town budget and agonize about weather forecasts and cry myself to sleep to the sounds of Raffi.
I've also quit dipping. In turn, I chew a lot of gum.
"Dean...WTF does gum have to do with dead hookers?"
I know, I know. What's the connection?
Well, in these sedentary, responsible times, an old fool like me looks for good, clean fun. The point being, I've started throwing wads of gum into people's hair.
Needless to say, this is awesome and funny. Seeing people's faces when they realize that *someone* threw gum in their hair is peerless. (Best of all, no one ever suspects ME...I am in my thirties, for Christ's sake, with a toddler in my arms.) It's a big win to know that someone is going to have to either cut off a big chunk of hair (at the roots), or spend a whole night combing peanut butter through her locks.
Try it. You'll laugh.
I've been missing this.....................
It's a big win................
'crackup'
I agree!!!
-
Going down to lick the ole hairy hatchet wound for a first time college slam pig is a great way to get a little bit of gonaherpasifilaids to enjoy for the rest of the semester.
What are you a social worker or something...?
The College Diet Of Every American Dude = Slim Jims, Beer, Pussy.
And gonaherpasifilaids is not a real word, bitch.
Ask Dean.
-
Going down to lick the ole hairy hatchet wound for a first time college slam pig is a great way to get a little bit of gonaherpasifilaids to enjoy for the rest of the semester.
What are you a social worker or something...?
The College Diet Of Every American Dude = Slim Jims, Beer, Pussy.
And gonaherpasifilaids is not a real word, bitch.
Ask Dean.
Whatever makes the flare up's less painful for you there bud!
Oh yeah, does the valtrex realy make you want to ride horses and run on the beach? I have always wanted to know that.
Post Script- By the way, in college, you are supposed to get the drunk girls to gobble YOUR knob. It is called the 68. You do me and I will owe you one!
-
Going down to lick the ole hairy hatchet wound for a first time college slam pig is a great way to get a little bit of gonaherpasifilaids to enjoy for the rest of the semester.
What are you a social worker or something...?
The College Diet Of Every American Dude = Slim Jims, Beer, Pussy.
And gonaherpasifilaids is not a real word, bitch.
Ask Dean.
Nope. It isn't a word. And I come from the authority of having had every VD at least twice.
Mr. Jason Fucking Blabbermouth is at it again. You need to crawl back into that test tube, Damian.
-
So how do u pick ur gum hair victims??? Beware of the seemingly docile 30sumthing, male human.. Particularly an "old punk at heart". As being provoked by another old punk, is a glorious level playing field, an all inhabitions are gone... I recommend teenager marks,, easy to run off if need be...
Dam I'd love to have a reason to fight a 30 something, that maybe my wife would accept for just grounds.... But I'd also like to fight 6 thirteen year olds....
Like bruce springstein says "glory days!!!"
-
Going down to lick the ole hairy hatchet wound for a first time college slam pig is a great way to get a little bit of gonaherpasifilaids to enjoy for the rest of the semester.
What are you a social worker or something...?
The College Diet Of Every American Dude = Slim Jims, Beer, Pussy.
And gonaherpasifilaids is not a real word, bitch.
Ask Dean.
Nope. It isn't a word. And I come from the authority of having had every VD at least twice.
Mr. Jason Fucking Blabbermouth is at it again. You need to crawl back into that test tube, Damian.
You love me!
Now shut your mouth before I knock out all your teeth just to keep you from biting down when I skull fuck you prison style :o
-
I'd love to have a reason to fight a 30 something, that maybe my wife would accept for just grounds.... But I'd also like to fight 6 thirteen year olds....
Personally, I would prefer to fight 13 six year olds.
I would definitely win.
-
Going down to lick the ole hairy hatchet wound for a first time college slam pig is a great way to get a little bit of gonaherpasifilaids to enjoy for the rest of the semester.
What are you a social worker or something...?
The College Diet Of Every American Dude = Slim Jims, Beer, Pussy.
And gonaherpasifilaids is not a real word, bitch.
Ask Dean.
Nope. It isn't a word. And I come from the authority of having had every VD at least twice.
Mr. Jason Fucking Blabbermouth is at it again. You need to crawl back into that test tube, Damian.
You love me!
Now shut your mouth before I knock out all your teeth just to keep you from biting down when I skull fuck you prison style :o
Who the fuck doesn't like to eat pussy?
-
I'd love to have a reason to fight a 30 something, that maybe my wife would accept for just grounds.... But I'd also like to fight 6 thirteen year olds....
Personally, I would prefer to fight 13 six year olds.
I would definitely win.
13 six yr olds??? sounds like a good fight to try some ninja/creative moves...
stuff that you would get laid out trying in a real fight... i think i would pick up one 6 yr old and use him or her as a club....
-
Going down to lick the ole hairy hatchet wound for a first time college slam pig is a great way to get a little bit of gonaherpasifilaids to enjoy for the rest of the semester.
What are you a social worker or something...?
The College Diet Of Every American Dude = Slim Jims, Beer, Pussy.
And gonaherpasifilaids is not a real word, bitch.
Ask Dean.
Nope. It isn't a word. And I come from the authority of having had every VD at least twice.
Mr. Jason Fucking Blabbermouth is at it again. You need to crawl back into that test tube, Damian.
You love me!
Now shut your mouth before I knock out all your teeth just to keep you from biting down when I skull fuck you prison style :o
Who the fuck doesn't like to eat pussy?
Werd. I'm down with a 69...as opposed to the "68". _
-
So how do u pick ur gum hair victims???
Excellent question, Ray, and the answer is simple: I target old women with thinning hair, and children.
-
Going down to lick the ole hairy hatchet wound for a first time college slam pig is a great way to get a little bit of gonaherpasifilaids to enjoy for the rest of the semester.
What are you a social worker or something...?
The College Diet Of Every American Dude = Slim Jims, Beer, Pussy.
And gonaherpasifilaids is not a real word, bitch.
Ask Dean.
Nope. It isn't a word. And I come from the authority of having had every VD at least twice.
Mr. Jason Fucking Blabbermouth is at it again. You need to crawl back into that test tube, Damian.
You love me!
Now shut your mouth before I knock out all your teeth just to keep you from biting down when I skull fuck you prison style :o
Who the fuck doesn't like to eat pussy?
Werd. I'm down with a 69...as opposed to the "68". _
Sounds like he hasn't figured out how to get one out of the package...or everytime he does he finds it IS a package. 'winker'
-
Day 170
I hate the Patriots.
Every year since Bob Kraft shopped Hartford's stadium deal to the Massachusetts legislature and back-doored my home state (and, more importantly, raped me of my own tax dollars), I have wished suffering upon the organization in its entirety.
I was just hoping someone could help me lay down a curse. The idea is for the team's plane to crash in the Rockies, just like that gaggle of Uruguayan rugby players in "Alive." Everyone will survive the crash. But then they will perish slowly, one by one, and have to eat each other.
Bill Belichick will be the last one alive. I will show up and pretend that I am there to save him. He will be jolly. But just when he thinks he's rescued, I am going to starting eating HIM. I will bite off his nipples first and spit them into his own asshole. Then, I will chew off his eyebrows, swallow them, and puke them back up onto his lips. He will then also puke, and I will kick him into his own vomit and poop on him. Nasty poop, too, like with onions and corn bread and meat. At that point, he will be freaking out, and I will stab him in the eye with my own finger and pull out part of his brain.
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
-
Day 170
I hate the Patriots.
Every year since Bob Kraft shopped Hartford's stadium deal to the Massachusetts legislature and back-doored my home state (and, more importantly, raped me of my own tax dollars), I have wished suffering upon the organization in its entirety.
I was just hoping someone could help me lay down a curse. The idea is for the team's plane to crash in the Rockies, just like that gaggle of Uruguayan rugby players in "Alive." Everyone will survive the crash. But then they will perish slowly, one by one, and have to eat each other.
Bill Belichick will be the last one alive. I will show up and pretend that I am there to save him. He will be jolly. But just when he thinks he's rescued, I am going to starting eating HIM. I will bite off his nipples first and spit them into his own asshole. Then, I will chew off his eyebrows, swallow them, and puke them back up onto his lips. He will then also puke, and I will kick him into his own vomit and poop on him. Nasty poop, too, like with onions and corn bread and meat. At that point, he will be freaking out, and I will stab him in the eye with my own finger and pull out part of his brain.
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
First Billy Mays, now this?
You may not know the limits of your descructive forces Dean......
-
Day 170
I hate the Patriots.
Every year since Bob Kraft shopped Hartford's stadium deal to the Massachusetts legislature and back-doored my home state (and, more importantly, raped me of my own tax dollars), I have wished suffering upon the organization in its entirety.
I was just hoping someone could help me lay down a curse. The idea is for the team's plane to crash in the Rockies, just like that gaggle of Uruguayan rugby players in "Alive." Everyone will survive the crash. But then they will perish slowly, one by one, and have to eat each other.
Bill Belichick will be the last one alive. I will show up and pretend that I am there to save him. He will be jolly. But just when he thinks he's rescued, I am going to starting eating HIM. I will bite off his nipples first and spit them into his own asshole. Then, I will chew off his eyebrows, swallow them, and puke them back up onto his lips. He will then also puke, and I will kick him into his own vomit and poop on him. Nasty poop, too, like with onions and corn bread and meat. At that point, he will be freaking out, and I will stab him in the eye with my own finger and pull out part of his brain.
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
First Billy Mays, now this?
You may not know the limits of your descructive forces Dean......
There's only one reason why you want to start with biting his nipples...... 'loot01'
-
Day 170
I hate the Patriots.
Every year since Bob Kraft shopped Hartford's stadium deal to the Massachusetts legislature and back-doored my home state (and, more importantly, raped me of my own tax dollars), I have wished suffering upon the organization in its entirety.
I was just hoping someone could help me lay down a curse. The idea is for the team's plane to crash in the Rockies, just like that gaggle of Uruguayan rugby players in "Alive." Everyone will survive the crash. But then they will perish slowly, one by one, and have to eat each other.
Bill Belichick will be the last one alive. I will show up and pretend that I am there to save him. He will be jolly. But just when he thinks he's rescued, I am going to starting eating HIM. I will bite off his nipples first and spit them into his own asshole. Then, I will chew off his eyebrows, swallow them, and puke them back up onto his lips. He will then also puke, and I will kick him into his own vomit and poop on him. Nasty poop, too, like with onions and corn bread and meat. At that point, he will be freaking out, and I will stab him in the eye with my own finger and pull out part of his brain.
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
First Billy Mays, now this?
You may not know the limits of your descructive forces Dean......
There's only one reason why you want to start with biting his nipples...... 'loot01'
I can name 4,236 other reasons to hate the Patriots and they come way before Kraft and the fucking of CT. I fucked CT by the way for four years when i went to college there, but that's a story for another day. Ask Ray, he knows.
Anyway, back to the Patriots must I remind you of 1981 when they sunk so low as to have had to cheat by bringing in the snow plow? Driven by an ex convict?
I don't wish a plane crash on them. That would ruin a good piece of aviation equipment and might damage some of our prescious natural resources in Colorodo, but I am sure you think of some more creative wickedness upon the fatso in the sweatshirt.
I'll be waiting.
-
Stop hating on the greatest football dynasty in the last 50 years.
By the way, Eli Manning is a fag!
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
"see you tomorrow!"
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
A picture from her view, rather than yours, would be helpful for me in imagining the scenario. ;)
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
"see you tomorrow!"
Dude... that's awesome. Thanks for the laugh.
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
"see you tomorrow!"
Dude... that's awesome. Thanks for the laugh.
Funny ass shit!
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
"see you tomorrow!"
Dude... that's awesome. Thanks for the laugh.
Funny ass shit!
I like boobies.
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
"see you tomorrow!"
Dude... that's awesome. Thanks for the laugh.
Funny ass shit!
I like boobies.
Dean, freaking hilarious dude! Old ladies and golden showers....... 'crackup'
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
"see you tomorrow!"
Dude... that's awesome. Thanks for the laugh.
Funny ass shit!
I like boobies.
Dean, freaking hilarious dude! Old ladies and golden showers....... 'crackup'
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup' She probably hasn't seen a hard cock in a long time since her old husband probably can't get it up anymore!!!
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
"see you tomorrow!"
Dude... that's awesome. Thanks for the laugh.
Funny ass shit!
I like boobies.
Dean, freaking hilarious dude! Old ladies and golden showers....... 'crackup'
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup' She probably hasn't seen a hard cock in a long time since her old husband probably can't get it up anymore!!!
That's the way it used to be. Enough Viagra will lift a Cadillac!
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
"see you tomorrow!"
Dude... that's awesome. Thanks for the laugh.
Funny ass shit!
I like boobies.
Dean, freaking hilarious dude! Old ladies and golden showers....... 'crackup'
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup' She probably hasn't seen a hard cock in a long time since her old husband probably can't get it up anymore!!!
That's the way it used to be. Enough Viagra will lift a Cadillac!
I just frigged in my man panties.
-
Day 170
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
What the fuck...1st avatar of the Pru tower in Boston and people thought it was Chicago...Candice gets me chastized for being a porn-peddler...and now this?
It's funny, Bob Kraft called a super-secret meeting up here in MA a few years back when CMGI field was just a doodle on a cocktail napkin. So Kraft starts with "guess who called me last night" ...and we're all like: "who" and he's like: "fucking connecticut!!" and we're all like: "dammnn...we thought you told that bitch to lose your number" so Kraft goes: "yeah she says thinks she's pregnant" and we're all : "fuck that bitch...she told you she was on the pill, riite...and tell me you wrapped it...that stunt has been around?" And BK's all: " yeah, fuck her...if she wasn't so geeked out, she'd remember that after I pulled it out of her pooper, I jizzed in her throat" and we go: " that's it Bob ..made her gargle that shit...!!"...So then he goes : "yo, check this out, I'm gonna make that bitch think I want her back...I'ma say all sweet shit like..you know I only want to be with you..and yeah..I'll give you the patriots and shit, then when we we start getting at, I'm gonna roll her over and start jammin' her with a summer squash...and you'all all run out tha closet and start throwing dookie at her...and yo Bledsoe..bring yo' camera...after we wait 24 hours at the photomat for our film to be developed we can scan them using my new scanner I bought at Caldor's - This shit is going to blow-up on Compuserve newsgroups!!"
And that is why Dean hates the Partiots. They threw dookie at his state.
-
Day 170
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
What the fuck...1st avatar of the Pru tower in Boston and people thought it was Chicago...Candice gets me chastized for being a porn-peddler...and now this?
It's funny, Bob Kraft called a super-secret meeting up here in MA a few years back when CMGI field was just a doodle on a cocktail napkin. So Kraft starts with "guess who called me last night" ...and we're all like: "who" and he's like: "fucking connecticut!!" and we're all like: "dammnn...we thought you told that bitch to lose your number" so Kraft goes: "yeah she says thinks she's pregnant" and we're all : "fuck that bitch...she told you she was on the pill, riite...and tell me you wrapped it...that stunt has been around?" And BK's all: " yeah, fuck her...if she wasn't so geeked out, she'd remember that after I pulled it out of her pooper, I jizzed in her throat" and we go: " that's it Bob ..made her gargle that shit...!!"...So then he goes : "yo, check this out, I'm gonna make that bitch think I want her back...I'ma say all sweet shit like..you know I only want to be with you..and yeah..I'll give you the patriots and shit, then when we we start getting at, I'm gonna roll her over and start jammin' her with a summer squash...and you'all all run out tha closet and start throwing dookie at her...and yo Bledsoe..bring yo' camera...after we wait 24 hours at the photomat for our film to be developed we can scan them using my new scanner I bought at Caldor's - This shit is going to blow-up on Compuserve newsgroups!!"
And that is why Dean hates the Partiots. They threw dookie at his state.
Dean still hasn't gotten over the Whalers moving to North Carolina.
-
Day 170
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
What the fuck...1st avatar of the Pru tower in Boston and people thought it was Chicago...Candice gets me chastized for being a porn-peddler...and now this?
It's funny, Bob Kraft called a super-secret meeting up here in MA a few years back when CMGI field was just a doodle on a cocktail napkin. So Kraft starts with "guess who called me last night" ...and we're all like: "who" and he's like: "fucking connecticut!!" and we're all like: "dammnn...we thought you told that bitch to lose your number" so Kraft goes: "yeah she says thinks she's pregnant" and we're all : "fuck that bitch...she told you she was on the pill, riite...and tell me you wrapped it...that stunt has been around?" And BK's all: " yeah, fuck her...if she wasn't so geeked out, she'd remember that after I pulled it out of her pooper, I jizzed in her throat" and we go: " that's it Bob ..made her gargle that shit...!!"...So then he goes : "yo, check this out, I'm gonna make that bitch think I want her back...I'ma say all sweet shit like..you know I only want to be with you..and yeah..I'll give you the patriots and shit, then when we we start getting at, I'm gonna roll her over and start jammin' her with a summer squash...and you'all all run out tha closet and start throwing dookie at her...and yo Bledsoe..bring yo' camera...after we wait 24 hours at the photomat for our film to be developed we can scan them using my new scanner I bought at Caldor's - This shit is going to blow-up on Compuserve newsgroups!!"
And that is why Dean hates the Partiots. They threw dookie at his state.
Dean still hasn't gotten over the Whalers moving to North Carolina.
Cue "Brass Bonanza"
-
Day 170
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
What the fuck...1st avatar of the Pru tower in Boston and people thought it was Chicago...Candice gets me chastized for being a porn-peddler...and now this?
It's funny, Bob Kraft called a super-secret meeting up here in MA a few years back when CMGI field was just a doodle on a cocktail napkin. So Kraft starts with "guess who called me last night" ...and we're all like: "who" and he's like: "fucking connecticut!!" and we're all like: "dammnn...we thought you told that bitch to lose your number" so Kraft goes: "yeah she says thinks she's pregnant" and we're all : "fuck that bitch...she told you she was on the pill, riite...and tell me you wrapped it...that stunt has been around?" And BK's all: " yeah, fuck her...if she wasn't so geeked out, she'd remember that after I pulled it out of her pooper, I jizzed in her throat" and we go: " that's it Bob ..made her gargle that shit...!!"...So then he goes : "yo, check this out, I'm gonna make that bitch think I want her back...I'ma say all sweet shit like..you know I only want to be with you..and yeah..I'll give you the patriots and shit, then when we we start getting at, I'm gonna roll her over and start jammin' her with a summer squash...and you'all all run out tha closet and start throwing dookie at her...and yo Bledsoe..bring yo' camera...after we wait 24 hours at the photomat for our film to be developed we can scan them using my new scanner I bought at Caldor's - This shit is going to blow-up on Compuserve newsgroups!!"
And that is why Dean hates the Partiots. They threw dookie at his state.
Dean still hasn't gotten over the Whalers moving to North Carolina.
Cue "Brass Bonanza"
'disco, you should do a weekly impromptu story-telling to your local second graders.
Or maybe, your stories are more suitable for the car full of prostibitches that you told us about earlier today on your intro page......
-
Day 170
(This is dedicated to Justin, jaydisco, who inspired my ire with that fucking picture. Justin: Why don't you use a pic of George Michael or a nice handbag or Bette Midler as your avatar instead? Love you, bro ;) )
What the fuck...1st avatar of the Pru tower in Boston and people thought it was Chicago...Candice gets me chastized for being a porn-peddler...and now this?
It's funny, Bob Kraft called a super-secret meeting up here in MA a few years back when CMGI field was just a doodle on a cocktail napkin. So Kraft starts with "guess who called me last night" ...and we're all like: "who" and he's like: "fucking connecticut!!" and we're all like: "dammnn...we thought you told that bitch to lose your number" so Kraft goes: "yeah she says thinks she's pregnant" and we're all : "fuck that bitch...she told you she was on the pill, riite...and tell me you wrapped it...that stunt has been around?" And BK's all: " yeah, fuck her...if she wasn't so geeked out, she'd remember that after I pulled it out of her pooper, I jizzed in her throat" and we go: " that's it Bob ..made her gargle that shit...!!"...So then he goes : "yo, check this out, I'm gonna make that bitch think I want her back...I'ma say all sweet shit like..you know I only want to be with you..and yeah..I'll give you the patriots and shit, then when we we start getting at, I'm gonna roll her over and start jammin' her with a summer squash...and you'all all run out tha closet and start throwing dookie at her...and yo Bledsoe..bring yo' camera...after we wait 24 hours at the photomat for our film to be developed we can scan them using my new scanner I bought at Caldor's - This shit is going to blow-up on Compuserve newsgroups!!"
And that is why Dean hates the Partiots. They threw dookie at his state.
Dean still hasn't gotten over the Whalers moving to North Carolina.
Cue "Brass Bonanza"
'disco, you should do a weekly impromptu story-telling to your local second graders.
Or maybe, your stories are more suitable for the car full of prostibitches that you told us about earlier today on your intro page......
Don't think I havent tried that... but the crack fumes make me woozy. And the prostitutes are no prize either!
-
I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
It's October 1, 2009. My cave date.
Well, I decided against caving and posted Day 192 this morning. I owe that to myself, my little boy and my wife.
But even more so, I owe it to all of you slam pigs who are quitting with me...who get up in the morning and come here to lend support to me and everyone else. In turn, I can do nothing other than be here to also lend support. It's a never-ending reach-around, sort of.
Today marks another really important milestone for me:
April
May
June
July
August
September
That's six complete calendar months without dip. Six months. I'm honestly amazed. Yeah, I've worked hard and all that, but it still seems almost unreal that I have been able to break away - and STAY away - from the most powerful addiction I've ever encountered. My last vice is dying away, leaving me with only the desire to be able to lick and bite my nipples while I rub one out to a picture of Blossom. (I'll never give up THAT vice.)
-
I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
It's October 1, 2009. My cave date.
Well, I decided against caving and posted Day 192 this morning. I owe that to myself, my little boy and my wife.
But even more so, I owe it to all of you slam pigs who are quitting with me...who get up in the morning and come here to lend support to me and everyone else. In turn, I can do nothing other than be here to also lend support. It's a never-ending reach-around, sort of.
Today marks another really important milestone for me:
April
May
June
July
August
September
That's six complete calendar months without dip. Six months. I'm honestly amazed. Yeah, I've worked hard and all that, but it still seems almost unreal that I have been able to break away - and STAY away - from the most powerful addiction I've ever encountered. My last vice is dying away, leaving me with only the desire to be able to lick and bite my nipples while I rub one out to a picture of Blossom. (I'll never give up THAT vice.)
Awesome, Dean.
that's fucking scary, I remember the day you posted that and it seemed like so far in the future.
-
I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
It's October 1, 2009. My cave date.
Well, I decided against caving and posted Day 192 this morning. I owe that to myself, my little boy and my wife.
But even more so, I owe it to all of you slam pigs who are quitting with me...who get up in the morning and come here to lend support to me and everyone else. In turn, I can do nothing other than be here to also lend support. It's a never-ending reach-around, sort of.
Today marks another really important milestone for me:
April
May
June
July
August
September
That's six complete calendar months without dip. Six months. I'm honestly amazed. Yeah, I've worked hard and all that, but it still seems almost unreal that I have been able to break away - and STAY away - from the most powerful addiction I've ever encountered. My last vice is dying away, leaving me with only the desire to be able to lick and bite my nipples while I rub one out to a picture of Blossom. (I'll never give up THAT vice.)
Awesome, Dean.
that's fucking scary, I remember the day you posted that and it seemed like so far in the future.
Shit Dean, I remember reading this a long time ago. 6 months is HUGE, nice job bro.
Blossom?? Really? :unsure:
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I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
It's October 1, 2009. My cave date.
Well, I decided against caving and posted Day 192 this morning. I owe that to myself, my little boy and my wife.
But even more so, I owe it to all of you slam pigs who are quitting with me...who get up in the morning and come here to lend support to me and everyone else. In turn, I can do nothing other than be here to also lend support. It's a never-ending reach-around, sort of.
Today marks another really important milestone for me:
April
May
June
July
August
September
That's six complete calendar months without dip. Six months. I'm honestly amazed. Yeah, I've worked hard and all that, but it still seems almost unreal that I have been able to break away - and STAY away - from the most powerful addiction I've ever encountered. My last vice is dying away, leaving me with only the desire to be able to lick and bite my nipples while I rub one out to a picture of Blossom. (I'll never give up THAT vice.)
Awesome, Dean.
that's fucking scary, I remember the day you posted that and it seemed like so far in the future.
Shit Dean, I remember reading this a long time ago. 6 months is HUGE, nice job bro.
Blossom?? Really? :unsure:
Punky Brewster?
-
I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
It's October 1, 2009. My cave date.
Well, I decided against caving and posted Day 192 this morning. I owe that to myself, my little boy and my wife.
But even more so, I owe it to all of you slam pigs who are quitting with me...who get up in the morning and come here to lend support to me and everyone else. In turn, I can do nothing other than be here to also lend support. It's a never-ending reach-around, sort of.
Today marks another really important milestone for me:
April
May
June
July
August
September
That's six complete calendar months without dip. Six months. I'm honestly amazed. Yeah, I've worked hard and all that, but it still seems almost unreal that I have been able to break away - and STAY away - from the most powerful addiction I've ever encountered. My last vice is dying away, leaving me with only the desire to be able to lick and bite my nipples while I rub one out to a picture of Blossom. (I'll never give up THAT vice.)
Awesome, Dean.
that's fucking scary, I remember the day you posted that and it seemed like so far in the future.
Shit Dean, I remember reading this a long time ago. 6 months is HUGE, nice job bro.
Blossom?? Really? :unsure:
Punky Brewster?
'jerk'
-
I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
It's October 1, 2009. My cave date.
Well, I decided against caving and posted Day 192 this morning. I owe that to myself, my little boy and my wife.
But even more so, I owe it to all of you slam pigs who are quitting with me...who get up in the morning and come here to lend support to me and everyone else. In turn, I can do nothing other than be here to also lend support. It's a never-ending reach-around, sort of.
Today marks another really important milestone for me:
April
May
June
July
August
September
That's six complete calendar months without dip. Six months. I'm honestly amazed. Yeah, I've worked hard and all that, but it still seems almost unreal that I have been able to break away - and STAY away - from the most powerful addiction I've ever encountered. My last vice is dying away, leaving me with only the desire to be able to lick and bite my nipples while I rub one out to a picture of Blossom. (I'll never give up THAT vice.)
Awesome, Dean.
that's fucking scary, I remember the day you posted that and it seemed like so far in the future.
Shit Dean, I remember reading this a long time ago. 6 months is HUGE, nice job bro.
Blossom?? Really? :unsure:
Punky Brewster?
'jerk'
I'm very happy you didn't cave bro...crazy fuck 'crackup'
- my thoughts exactly Glenn
-
I am setting a cave date: October 1, 2009.
I can't fucking wait.
It's October 1, 2009. My cave date.
Well, I decided against caving and posted Day 192 this morning. I owe that to myself, my little boy and my wife.
But even more so, I owe it to all of you slam pigs who are quitting with me...who get up in the morning and come here to lend support to me and everyone else. In turn, I can do nothing other than be here to also lend support. It's a never-ending reach-around, sort of.
Today marks another really important milestone for me:
April
May
June
July
August
September
That's six complete calendar months without dip. Six months. I'm honestly amazed. Yeah, I've worked hard and all that, but it still seems almost unreal that I have been able to break away - and STAY away - from the most powerful addiction I've ever encountered. My last vice is dying away, leaving me with only the desire to be able to lick and bite my nipples while I rub one out to a picture of Blossom. (I'll never give up THAT vice.)
Awesome, Dean.
that's fucking scary, I remember the day you posted that and it seemed like so far in the future.
Shit Dean, I remember reading this a long time ago. 6 months is HUGE, nice job bro.
Blossom?? Really? :unsure:
Punky Brewster?
'jerk'
I'm very happy you didn't cave bro...crazy fuck 'crackup'
- my thoughts exactly Glenn
Yeah, but how i loved Kristy McNichol when i was 12. And she's kind of a dog actually.
-
I've decided that I am going to kidnap ALL of Jon and Kate Gosselin's children, one each day until they're all gone, and hide them in a gigantic hot fudge sundae that I am going to build inside the Statue of Liberty's torch.
Why? So these children won't have two parents that are complete fucking assholes. Also, so the media will have some REAL Gosselin news to report.
And yes: I may very well eat the children. So what of it? Fuck you.
-
I've decided that I am going to kidnap ALL of Jon and Kate Gosselin's children, one each day until they're all gone, and hide them in a gigantic hot fudge sundae that I am going to build inside the Statue of Liberty's torch.
Why? So these children won't have two parents that are complete fucking assholes. Also, so the media will have some REAL Gosselin news to report.
And yes: I may very well eat the children. So what of it? Fuck you.
Not to hijack your thought...but this reminded me of the Nancy Grace interview with JGoss that was highlighted 396 times on Extra last night.
Is she not the person you'd most like to see mauled by a pack of jackals? I almost think that might be too good for her.
On a related topic, I believe her vagina probably looks a great deal like the Sarlacc monster...
http://www.cswu.cz/basic/images/sarlacc.jpg (http://www.cswu.cz/basic/images/sarlacc.jpg)
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I've decided that I am going to kidnap ALL of Jon and Kate Gosselin's children, one each day until they're all gone, and hide them in a gigantic hot fudge sundae that I am going to build inside the Statue of Liberty's torch.
Why? So these children won't have two parents that are complete fucking assholes. Also, so the media will have some REAL Gosselin news to report.
And yes: I may very well eat the children. So what of it? Fuck you.
i think of geese every time they mention the gossling family all i hear is honk, honk, honk everytime they are on, i find it's helped so much
-
I've decided that I am going to kidnap ALL of Jon and Kate Gosselin's children, one each day until they're all gone, and hide them in a gigantic hot fudge sundae that I am going to build inside the Statue of Liberty's torch.
Why? So these children won't have two parents that are complete fucking assholes. Also, so the media will have some REAL Gosselin news to report.
And yes: I may very well eat the children. So what of it? Fuck you.
If it weren't for shitty parents, kids wouldn't grow up to be effed up adolescents. Hence, I would be out of a job. We need crappy parents like this to give jobs to therapists ;-)
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I've decided that I am going to kidnap ALL of Jon and Kate Gosselin's children, one each day until they're all gone, and hide them in a gigantic hot fudge sundae that I am going to build inside the Statue of Liberty's torch.
Why? So these children won't have two parents that are complete fucking assholes. Also, so the media will have some REAL Gosselin news to report.
And yes: I may very well eat the children. So what of it? Fuck you.
If it weren't for shitty parents, kids wouldn't grow up to be effed up adolescents. Hence, I would be out of a job. We need crappy parents like this to give jobs to therapists ;-)
Classic, love it... Great idea on the torch.
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Day 221
Yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting since I got glasses, back this spring. Good vision RULES. I can actually see what kind of bird I have on the bead. No more shooting at bald eagles. Awesome.
Also, yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting without dip since I was 11 or 12. Nicotine truly, officially hooked me when I was in my mid-teens, but hunting was *always* a dipping event (ninja, of course...my dad would have killed me). I'd save a little pinch in a mason jar or old tin for months, if I needed to.
It was so goddamn nice to hammer through the swamps and fields without my veins booming with nicotine. No artificially inflated heart rate. No lightheadedness. I just chased woodcock like a moron, wondering why I worked so fucking hard for 2/3 of an ounce of breast meat.
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Day 221
Yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting since I got glasses, back this spring. Good vision RULES. I can actually see what kind of bird I have on the bead. No more shooting at bald eagles. Awesome.
Also, yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting without dip since I was 11 or 12. Nicotine truly, officially hooked me when I was in my mid-teens, but hunting was *always* a dipping event (ninja, of course...my dad would have killed me). I'd save a little pinch in a mason jar or old tin for months, if I needed to.
It was so goddamn nice to hammer through the swamps and fields without my veins booming with nicotine. No artificially inflated heart rate. No lightheadedness. I just chased woodcock like a moron, wondering why I worked so fucking hard for 2/3 of an ounce of breast meat.
I'm betting you've put in less work for a whole lot more breast than that.... :D
Great job, Dean. I've likewise enjoyed deer hunting this year, dip free of course.
Keep beating the bush for cocks. :huh:
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Day 221
Yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting since I got glasses, back this spring. Good vision RULES. I can actually see what kind of bird I have on the bead. No more shooting at bald eagles. Awesome.
Also, yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting without dip since I was 11 or 12. Nicotine truly, officially hooked me when I was in my mid-teens, but hunting was *always* a dipping event (ninja, of course...my dad would have killed me). I'd save a little pinch in a mason jar or old tin for months, if I needed to.
It was so goddamn nice to hammer through the swamps and fields without my veins booming with nicotine. No artificially inflated heart rate. No lightheadedness. I just chased woodcock like a moron, wondering why I worked so fucking hard for 2/3 of an ounce of breast meat.
I'm betting you've put in less work for a whole lot more breast than that.... :D
Great job, Dean. I've likewise enjoyed deer hunting this year, dip free of course.
Keep beating the bush for cocks. :huh:
What is all this talk of beating the bush for cocks and working hard for small breasts?
I thought I was the one that managed to write something that had sexual undertones running all through it!
To touch on the whole hunting without a dip thing.....I have seen more deer in my two times out this year than ever before. I always believed that they didn't care about the smell of mint in the air or on the ground. Apparently they did!
And the best part is that I don't feel like my heart is going to explode climbing out of the stand and walking out. Hmmm.......maybe that dip was the worst possible thing I could have been doing while hunting after all!
Dean - Thanks for sharing asshole!
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Day 221
Yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting since I got glasses, back this spring. Good vision RULES. I can actually see what kind of bird I have on the bead. No more shooting at bald eagles. Awesome.
Also, yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting without dip since I was 11 or 12. Nicotine truly, officially hooked me when I was in my mid-teens, but hunting was *always* a dipping event (ninja, of course...my dad would have killed me). I'd save a little pinch in a mason jar or old tin for months, if I needed to.
It was so goddamn nice to hammer through the swamps and fields without my veins booming with nicotine. No artificially inflated heart rate. No lightheadedness. I just chased woodcock like a moron, wondering why I worked so fucking hard for 2/3 of an ounce of breast meat.
I'm betting you've put in less work for a whole lot more breast than that.... :D
Great job, Dean. I've likewise enjoyed deer hunting this year, dip free of course.
Keep beating the bush for cocks. :huh:
What is all this talk of beating the bush for cocks and working hard for small breasts?
I thought I was the one that managed to write something that had sexual undertones running all through it!
To touch on the whole hunting without a dip thing.....I have seen more deer in my two times out this year than ever before. I always believed that they didn't care about the smell of mint in the air or on the ground. Apparently they did!
And the best part is that I don't feel like my heart is going to explode climbing out of the stand and walking out. Hmmm.......maybe that dip was the worst possible thing I could have been doing while hunting after all!
Dean - Thanks for sharing asshole!
somehow i pictured you more for shooting the shit, Dean, than shooting at animals.
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somehow i pictured you more for shooting the shit, Dean, than shooting at animals.
I'm full of surprises, Glenn. But I am not quite a redneck. My affection for upland-bird hunting does not imply affection for other traditionally redneck attributes, such as stockcar racing, weird clothes, mustaches and mullets, Camaros with frame rot....
Same story goes for me being a Deadhead. Love the music. Hate hippies.
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Day 221
Yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting since I got glasses, back this spring. Good vision RULES. I can actually see what kind of bird I have on the bead. No more shooting at bald eagles. Awesome.
Also, yesterday was the first time I've gone hunting without dip since I was 11 or 12. Nicotine truly, officially hooked me when I was in my mid-teens, but hunting was *always* a dipping event (ninja, of course...my dad would have killed me). I'd save a little pinch in a mason jar or old tin for months, if I needed to.
It was so goddamn nice to hammer through the swamps and fields without my veins booming with nicotine. No artificially inflated heart rate. No lightheadedness. I just chased woodcock like a moron, wondering why I worked so fucking hard for 2/3 of an ounce of breast meat.
I am just going through that for the first time as well. Pheasant season and now deer with no dip. Feels very wierd but I am dealing with it!.
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Day 245
Yesterday, I enjoyed a fart hat trick. No, not three farts, but three instances of fart-foolery. Let me enumerate and explain:
1. My wife is standing in the kitchen, holding our toddler. She's chatting with my mother and her sister. I am walking in and out of the kitchen with dirty breakfast plates, eking out poots as I go. Nice and quiet. Little farts. No hoopla. A light blanket of mini-stink.
I see my wife hold my son's ass up to her face, to ascertain if he shit his pants.
Awesome. I smirk about being a ninja.
2. My wife happens to look over at me across the room just as I am whacking out a heavy fart. She sees only the expression on my face, which is a semi-tortured, contorted look of admiration, confusion and pain. I catch her glance and see her look at me as if she thought I was having a brain bleed. I mouthed over to her, "I'm OK."
Poor girl was worried.
3. My wife and I are doing dishes, talking about this and that. I bleat out a chorus of muted farts, each with its own golden tone. I struck a series of notes, almost. Actually, it sounded like I asked "Do you think we can...." in the voice of Charlie Brown's teacher.
"Hm?" my wife inquires.
Oh. My. God. She did NOT just think my farts were a question. That would be too fantastic.
But by God, she did. She came close to answering my poops.
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Day 245
Yesterday, I enjoyed a fart hat trick. No, not three farts, but three instances of fart-foolery. Let me enumerate and explain:
1. My wife is standing in the kitchen, holding our toddler. She's chatting with my mother and her sister. I am walking in and out of the kitchen with dirty breakfast plates, eking out poots as I go. Nice and quiet. Little farts. No hoopla. A light blanket of mini-stink.
I see my wife hold my son's ass up to her face, to ascertain if he shit his pants.
Awesome. I smirk about being a ninja.
2. My wife happens to look over at me across the room just as I am whacking out a heavy fart. She sees only the expression on my face, which is a semi-tortured, contorted look of admiration, confusion and pain. I catch her glance and see her look at me as if she thought I was having a brain bleed. I mouthed over to her, "I'm OK."
Poor girl was worried.
3. My wife and I are doing dishes, talking about this and that. I bleat out a chorus of muted farts, each with its own golden tone. I struck a series of notes, almost. Actually, it sounded like I asked "Do you think we can...." in the voice of Charlie Brown's teacher.
"Hm?" my wife inquires.
Oh. My. God. She did NOT just think my farts were a question. That would be too fantastic.
But by God, she did. She came close to answering my poops.
that's fucking classic
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The Flavor of My Quit on Day 275
I'd like to highlight some observations about my quit, as it stands more than eight months into it, for both posterity and as - perhaps - comfort for others struggling quietly.
* I still have a hard time.
* Without doubt, staying quit every day is easier now than it was on, let's say, Day 8 or Day 20 or Day 51.
* I still have a hard time.
* It's a mindfuck. Today, a "crave" takes the form of a thought, or a series of thoughts. It's almost as if my MIND waters...not my mouth.
* Stress has actually not been a trigger of any kind. Rather, when I am busy, my mind is occupied. I think not of dip, but of punishing those who are fucking up my day.
* Keeping the mind occupied is critical. With the physical "need" gone, the mind must be tamed.
* I still have a hard time.
* The void remains. It manifests itself as, for instance, a weird emptiness and desire that rushes in after I eat oatmeal in the morning.
* Cave dreams continue. Had one two nights ago: I packed some Smokey Mountain, but it turned out to be Copenhagen. I began spitting it out violently, ashamed.
* I WILL NOT trade what I have accomplished for a cave. No way. I have worked too hard...
* ...but it takes a commitment every day
* The "quit forever" concept is still troubling to me, and I sometimes need to run a check on myself to not think that way.
* Did I mention that I still have a hard time?
* I still have a hard time.
* I am still quit today because of this fucking Web site and the tools I've befriended here. I will never let you down.
* I AM A GOD
* I have diarrhea today. Shit my pants a little bit earlier this morning, in fact. I smell kinda like an outhouse at a carnival.
-
BUMP. Just because we've got a whole crop of fresh quitters who are going out of their minds at the moment. This intro thread (along with SWJ's labelled "My Page is Better Than Yours") represent some of the funniest, most distracting origional man-prose on this site. Start from the beginning and marvel at the majesty.
-
*blushes*
I thank Theo for the kind words - especially because I am pretty sure I am not remotely funny anymore. The quit has taken flattened my sense of humor. For instance, I laugh at "Designing Women" now. Like it's nobody's business.
Another note: SWJ's "My Page is Better Than Yours" is, indeed, better.
But since I am here, let me share a tale:
My two-year-old loves shitting. We've actually been plopping him on the toilet for several months now, and he sits and shit and talks to me about stuff. He even provides running commentary, such as "That was a big one...big toot." But anyway...
I decided to run a gag on my wife earlier this week. Jack finished pooping, and I scooped him up and called my wife into the bathroom. With a concerned look on my face, I turned her attention to the toilet bowl.
She peered down and saw a lot of poop....along with a paperclip, two dimes, an apple stem and a piece of dry cat food.
Jack must have known - by instinct - how to take part in a joke like this, because as soon as she saw the scary, dangerous mess in the bowl and shouted about it, he started crying as if he was injured.
My wife has asked both of us to move out.
-
You are one strange duck but damn this shit is funny. 'crackup'
I wanna party with you and SWJ but I am sceerd. :o
-
*blushes*
I thank Theo for the kind words - especially because I am pretty sure I am not remotely funny anymore. The quit has taken flattened my sense of humor. For instance, I laugh at "Designing Women" now. Like it's nobody's business.
Another note: SWJ's "My Page is Better Than Yours" is, indeed, better.
But since I am here, let me share a tale:
My two-year-old loves shitting. We've actually been plopping him on the toilet for several months now, and he sits and shit and talks to me about stuff. He even provides running commentary, such as "That was a big one...big toot." But anyway...
I decided to run a gag on my wife earlier this week. Jack finished pooping, and I scooped him up and called my wife into the bathroom. With a concerned look on my face, I turned her attention to the toilet bowl.
She peered down and saw a lot of poop....along with a paperclip, two dimes, an apple stem and a piece of dry cat food.
Jack must have known - by instinct - how to take part in a joke like this, because as soon as she saw the scary, dangerous mess in the bowl and shouted about it, he started crying as if he was injured.
My wife has asked both of us to move out.
LMAO - CLASSIC!
Who cleaned it out, btw, you sick fuck?
-
LMAO - CLASSIC!
Who cleaned it out, btw, you sick fuck?
Oh, I just flushed it, Glenn. It's a toilet, after all.
One of the dimes did not flush, though, and I am thinking about using that toilet as a wishing well.
-
LMAO - CLASSIC!
Who cleaned it out, btw, you sick fuck?
Oh, I just flushed it, Glenn. It's a toilet, after all.
One of the dimes did not flush, though, and I am thinking about using that toilet as a wishing well.
I really need to get back in the habit of visiting this little buffet of fun. I just spent the last 30 seconds laughing myself to tears. Now I am back to my "I hate Monday's" attitude.
_
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Day 346
The quit is in a very weird place now.
The craves aren't like they were 200 or 300 days ago. It's like they're now in my marrow instead of right on my fingertips, and they speak Urdu or Cantonese or some other fucking language I don't understand, but I still HEAR them and know what they're saying is no good. What's worse, they seem to come screaming in real quick-like, do some heavy damage and then evaporate, leaving calm in their wake.
My craves are now kamikaze. Goddamn imperial Japanese craves.
But it's no big deal. Why? Because dipping is really, truly, absolutely not an option.
And this brings up more weirdness.
I'm at a point where the idea of dipping is very foreign to me. I cannot, at all, picture myself buying a can and packing a lip. I can't fathom being on spitter-watch in public garbage cans or being a ninja dipper or monitoring my mucous membranes for signs of cancer.
I can't even picture enjoying a dip or, more importantly, the habit. And that's very new to me. Since Day 1, I have been able to recognize the upside of quitting. But until recently, I always felt like I would enjoy a dip or have a much easier existence if the habit was back in my life. No longer. I feel like, today, I'd enjoy a dip about as much as I'd enjoy chomping down and filling my molars with my own shit.
So WHY am I packing Smokey Mountain right now, as I write? Why do I sometimes find myself in a goddamn seed and water frenzy, like a squirrel who ate a block of D-Con? Why do I still feel that void so acutely, so often?
The real weirdness is that, now, not even dip will help me fill the void, yet I still feel it, and I feel it because of dip...because of 15+ years of addiction. Know what I mean?
-
the last thing you gotta do is break the oral thing. then you can move on.
as for still feeling it...its kinda like losing an old friend. you've established a multi-year relationship. it aint going away easy. sometimes you may think back on it longingly...sometimes with disgust...but you are gonna think about it. question is...how do you react to it.
you know it wouldn't help...yet you still like having your sack stroked. its part of healing. that too will pass...in time.
thanks for the post
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Day 346
I'm at a point where the idea of dipping is very foreign to me. I cannot, at all, picture myself buying a can and packing a lip. I can't fathom being on spitter-watch in public garbage cans or being a ninja dipper or monitoring my mucous membranes for signs of cancer.
I can't even picture enjoying a dip or, more importantly, the habit. And that's very new to me.
Fucking classic.
I used to buy coffee and spill it out. More money wasted, but I think we all did the public garbage thing. I always hated putting the bottom lip on the top of that germ infested bottle.
L-O-S-E-R-S
Dean is it possible you still have an oral fixation because you DO use Smokey Mountain? Rockface does not like that solely for the reason that Loot points out, breaking the oral fixation. What came first the chicken or the egg? If you never had used SM, would you still have oral fixation? Or did you use it eventually when you had massive crave?
I only speak from my own experience. I didn't go seeds, gum, fake shit route because i didn't want nothing in my mouth....
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Day 346
I'm at a point where the idea of dipping is very foreign to me. I cannot, at all, picture myself buying a can and packing a lip. I can't fathom being on spitter-watch in public garbage cans or being a ninja dipper or monitoring my mucous membranes for signs of cancer.
I can't even picture enjoying a dip or, more importantly, the habit. And that's very new to me.
Fucking classic.
I used to buy coffee and spill it out. More money wasted, but I think we all did the public garbage thing. I always hated putting the bottom lip on the top of that germ infested bottle.
L-O-S-E-R-S
Dean is it possible you still have an oral fixation because you DO use Smokey Mountain? Rockface does not like that solely for the reason that Loot points out, breaking the oral fixation. What came first the chicken or the egg? If you never had used SM, would you still have oral fixation? Or did you use it eventually when you had massive crave?
I only speak from my own experience. I didn't go seeds, gum, fake shit route because i didn't want nothing in my mouth....
Gashboy: my oral craves stopped when I stopped using seeds. Maybe Rockface is right...your oral thing may be tied to the SmokeyMtn.
Truth be told...I do chew sugarless gum here and there, and I guess it's a bit of a crutch. But I don't really crave it. Don't really crave anything anymore ('cept poonie, but that's a whole other story).
So I was in the C-store this morning on the way to work. Long line. Biggest seller? 'baccy. This guy gets three packs Marlboro, that guy gets two tins of Cope, this lady gets pack of Kool filter kings. Theo just wants a pack of Trident.
...and he feels pride in that. And he feels pity on all the poor fuckers in line to purchase a little more death.
theo - 582
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Day 346
I'm at a point where the idea of dipping is very foreign to me. I cannot, at all, picture myself buying a can and packing a lip. I can't fathom being on spitter-watch in public garbage cans or being a ninja dipper or monitoring my mucous membranes for signs of cancer.
I can't even picture enjoying a dip or, more importantly, the habit. And that's very new to me.
Fucking classic.
I used to buy coffee and spill it out. More money wasted, but I think we all did the public garbage thing. I always hated putting the bottom lip on the top of that germ infested bottle.
L-O-S-E-R-S
Dean is it possible you still have an oral fixation because you DO use Smokey Mountain? Rockface does not like that solely for the reason that Loot points out, breaking the oral fixation. What came first the chicken or the egg? If you never had used SM, would you still have oral fixation? Or did you use it eventually when you had massive crave?
I only speak from my own experience. I didn't go seeds, gum, fake shit route because i didn't want nothing in my mouth....
Gashboy: my oral craves stopped when I stopped using seeds. Maybe Rockface is right...your oral thing may be tied to the SmokeyMtn.
Truth be told...I do chew sugarless gum here and there, and I guess it's a bit of a crutch. But I don't really crave it. Don't really crave anything anymore ('cept poonie, but that's a whole other story).
So I was in the C-store this morning on the way to work. Long line. Biggest seller? 'baccy. This guy gets three packs Marlboro, that guy gets two tins of Cope, this lady gets pack of Kool filter kings. Theo just wants a pack of Trident.
...and he feels pride in that. And he feels pity on all the poor fuckers in line to purchase a little more death.
theo - 582
Hell yeah to all of you ~ ^_^
Next step is .... when One of thoses Zombie Ass Non Quit Sheep look you in the eye you say " If you want to know Real Freedom from this addiction I know of a Place .........."
I said thoses exact words to my buddy Scrap77 a little over a year ago .... Thanks to all of you he just celebrated his 1st year annivesary nic Free 2 weeks ago ...
Boo Effin Yaaa Gentlemen ~
BBJ
-
*blushes*
I thank Theo for the kind words - especially because I am pretty sure I am not remotely funny anymore. The quit has taken flattened my sense of humor. For instance, I laugh at "Designing Women" now. Like it's nobody's business.
Another note: SWJ's "My Page is Better Than Yours" is, indeed, better.
But since I am here, let me share a tale:
My two-year-old loves shitting. We've actually been plopping him on the toilet for several months now, and he sits and shit and talks to me about stuff. He even provides running commentary, such as "That was a big one...big toot." But anyway...
I decided to run a gag on my wife earlier this week. Jack finished pooping, and I scooped him up and called my wife into the bathroom. With a concerned look on my face, I turned her attention to the toilet bowl.
She peered down and saw a lot of poop....along with a paperclip, two dimes, an apple stem and a piece of dry cat food.
Jack must have known - by instinct - how to take part in a joke like this, because as soon as she saw the scary, dangerous mess in the bowl and shouted about it, he started crying as if he was injured.
My wife has asked both of us to move out.
I absolutely MUST copy that stunt...my younger son just turned 3 and is likewise a poopin' machine with a tremendous sense of humor. That's GENIUS!
B)
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Day 346
The quit is in a very weird place now.
The craves aren't like they were 200 or 300 days ago. It's like they're now in my marrow instead of right on my fingertips, and they speak Urdu or Cantonese or some other fucking language I don't understand, but I still HEAR them and know what they're saying is no good. What's worse, they seem to come screaming in real quick-like, do some heavy damage and then evaporate, leaving calm in their wake.
My craves are now kamikaze. Goddamn imperial Japanese craves.
But it's no big deal. Why? Because dipping is really, truly, absolutely not an option.
And this brings up more weirdness.
I'm at a point where the idea of dipping is very foreign to me. I cannot, at all, picture myself buying a can and packing a lip. I can't fathom being on spitter-watch in public garbage cans or being a ninja dipper or monitoring my mucous membranes for signs of cancer.
I can't even picture enjoying a dip or, more importantly, the habit. And that's very new to me. Since Day 1, I have been able to recognize the upside of quitting. But until recently, I always felt like I would enjoy a dip or have a much easier existence if the habit was back in my life. No longer. I feel like, today, I'd enjoy a dip about as much as I'd enjoy chomping down and filling my molars with my own shit.
So WHY am I packing Smokey Mountain right now, as I write? Why do I sometimes find myself in a goddamn seed and water frenzy, like a squirrel who ate a block of D-Con? Why do I still feel that void so acutely, so often?
The real weirdness is that, now, not even dip will help me fill the void, yet I still feel it, and I feel it because of dip...because of 15+ years of addiction. Know what I mean?
I still use Smokey Mountain. Its great shit when you get those hard core craves and as you say "need to fill the void". Might not work for everyone but it works for me. I can actually go for a couple of days and NEVER think about a chew. I love that part of my life. Freedom. But some days suck salty balls and and I have Smokey Mountain to help get me through it. Glad Dean is out there to add perspective and let me know I'm not alone.
Cheers
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Day 346
I'm at a point where the idea of dipping is very foreign to me. I cannot, at all, picture myself buying a can and packing a lip. I can't fathom being on spitter-watch in public garbage cans or being a ninja dipper or monitoring my mucous membranes for signs of cancer.
I can't even picture enjoying a dip or, more importantly, the habit. And that's very new to me.
Fucking classic.
I used to buy coffee and spill it out. More money wasted, but I think we all did the public garbage thing. I always hated putting the bottom lip on the top of that germ infested bottle.
L-O-S-E-R-S
Dean is it possible you still have an oral fixation because you DO use Smokey Mountain? Rockface does not like that solely for the reason that Loot points out, breaking the oral fixation. What came first the chicken or the egg? If you never had used SM, would you still have oral fixation? Or did you use it eventually when you had massive crave?
I only speak from my own experience. I didn't go seeds, gum, fake shit route because i didn't want nothing in my mouth....
Gashboy: my oral craves stopped when I stopped using seeds. Maybe Rockface is right...your oral thing may be tied to the SmokeyMtn.
Truth be told...I do chew sugarless gum here and there, and I guess it's a bit of a crutch. But I don't really crave it. Don't really crave anything anymore ('cept poonie, but that's a whole other story).
So I was in the C-store this morning on the way to work. Long line. Biggest seller? 'baccy. This guy gets three packs Marlboro, that guy gets two tins of Cope, this lady gets pack of Kool filter kings. Theo just wants a pack of Trident.
...and he feels pride in that. And he feels pity on all the poor fuckers in line to purchase a little more death.
theo - 582
Hell yeah to all of you ~ ^_^
Next step is .... when One of thoses Zombie Ass Non Quit Sheep look you in the eye you say " If you want to know Real Freedom from this addiction I know of a Place .........."
I said thoses exact words to my buddy Scrap77 a little over a year ago .... Thanks to all of you he just celebrated his 1st year annivesary nic Free 2 weeks ago ...
Boo Effin Yaaa Gentlemen ~
BBJ
BBJ, I finally got a long-time friend to join too. He is May '10 and plugging along. congrats to your buddy, but I don't know him, anyway, we're all fucking awesome.
Fuck you UST
Fuck you Kodiak.
-
Congrats on the year of quit!!! 'Kiss'
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Day 346
I'm at a point where the idea of dipping is very foreign to me. I cannot, at all, picture myself buying a can and packing a lip. I can't fathom being on spitter-watch in public garbage cans or being a ninja dipper or monitoring my mucous membranes for signs of cancer.
I can't even picture enjoying a dip or, more importantly, the habit. And that's very new to me.
Fucking classic.
I used to buy coffee and spill it out. More money wasted, but I think we all did the public garbage thing. I always hated putting the bottom lip on the top of that germ infested bottle.
L-O-S-E-R-S
Dean is it possible you still have an oral fixation because you DO use Smokey Mountain? Rockface does not like that solely for the reason that Loot points out, breaking the oral fixation. What came first the chicken or the egg? If you never had used SM, would you still have oral fixation? Or did you use it eventually when you had massive crave?
I only speak from my own experience. I didn't go seeds, gum, fake shit route because i didn't want nothing in my mouth....
Gashboy: my oral craves stopped when I stopped using seeds. Maybe Rockface is right...your oral thing may be tied to the SmokeyMtn.
Truth be told...I do chew sugarless gum here and there, and I guess it's a bit of a crutch. But I don't really crave it. Don't really crave anything anymore ('cept poonie, but that's a whole other story).
So I was in the C-store this morning on the way to work. Long line. Biggest seller? 'baccy. This guy gets three packs Marlboro, that guy gets two tins of Cope, this lady gets pack of Kool filter kings. Theo just wants a pack of Trident.
...and he feels pride in that. And he feels pity on all the poor fuckers in line to purchase a little more death.
theo - 582
Hell yeah to all of you ~ ^_^
Next step is .... when One of thoses Zombie Ass Non Quit Sheep look you in the eye you say " If you want to know Real Freedom from this addiction I know of a Place .........."
I said thoses exact words to my buddy Scrap77 a little over a year ago .... Thanks to all of you he just celebrated his 1st year annivesary nic Free 2 weeks ago ...
Boo Effin Yaaa Gentlemen ~
BBJ
BBJ, I finally got a long-time friend to join too. He is May '10 and plugging along. congrats to your buddy, but I don't know him, anyway, we're all fucking awesome.
Fuck you UST
Fuck you Kodiak.
bump
:)
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Day 346
I'm at a point where the idea of dipping is very foreign to me. I cannot, at all, picture myself buying a can and packing a lip. I can't fathom being on spitter-watch in public garbage cans or being a ninja dipper or monitoring my mucous membranes for signs of cancer.
I can't even picture enjoying a dip or, more importantly, the habit. And that's very new to me.
Fucking classic.
I used to buy coffee and spill it out. More money wasted, but I think we all did the public garbage thing. I always hated putting the bottom lip on the top of that germ infested bottle.
L-O-S-E-R-S
Dean is it possible you still have an oral fixation because you DO use Smokey Mountain? Rockface does not like that solely for the reason that Loot points out, breaking the oral fixation. What came first the chicken or the egg? If you never had used SM, would you still have oral fixation? Or did you use it eventually when you had massive crave?
I only speak from my own experience. I didn't go seeds, gum, fake shit route because i didn't want nothing in my mouth....
Gashboy: my oral craves stopped when I stopped using seeds. Maybe Rockface is right...your oral thing may be tied to the SmokeyMtn.
Truth be told...I do chew sugarless gum here and there, and I guess it's a bit of a crutch. But I don't really crave it. Don't really crave anything anymore ('cept poonie, but that's a whole other story).
So I was in the C-store this morning on the way to work. Long line. Biggest seller? 'baccy. This guy gets three packs Marlboro, that guy gets two tins of Cope, this lady gets pack of Kool filter kings. Theo just wants a pack of Trident.
...and he feels pride in that. And he feels pity on all the poor fuckers in line to purchase a little more death.
theo - 582
Hell yeah to all of you ~ ^_^
Next step is .... when One of thoses Zombie Ass Non Quit Sheep look you in the eye you say " If you want to know Real Freedom from this addiction I know of a Place .........."
I said thoses exact words to my buddy Scrap77 a little over a year ago .... Thanks to all of you he just celebrated his 1st year annivesary nic Free 2 weeks ago ...
Boo Effin Yaaa Gentlemen ~
BBJ
BBJ, I finally got a long-time friend to join too. He is May '10 and plugging along. congrats to your buddy, but I don't know him, anyway, we're all fucking awesome.
Fuck you UST
Fuck you Kodiak.
bump
:)
'clap' 'clap' 'clap'
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One Year+
Needless to say, being quit for a year is nuts. I've gone from being a dude who wanted only clean piss for a life insurance drug panel to being a complete quit Nazi. Like, I am the Fuhrer himself.
Quit is a big part of who I am. And I like that part of me. I've become empowered by it. I am seriously badass, and very awesome. What I've done is no fucking joke. Harder than quitting drinking, harder than controlling road rage, harder than being monogamous, harder than anything.
The only people who are better than me are other quitters. Basically, if you use tobacco, I am better than you. End of story. If you use tobacco, no matter how many great qualities you have, you are a loser. A huge zero. I am better than you because I beat back my addiction every day. And you can't even argue with me, because I will kill you or tickle you or kick your mom or do something else that's awesome and show you how much you suck.
I'm really glad that I've had it in me to do this. I'm glad that I feel my life is worth living and that I recognize all the wonderful things surrounding me. I've always been the type who takes nothing for granted, but my quit actually PROVES it. I'm badass, but I'm also lucky... lucky to see things the way I do and strive to be the best man I can be.
In retrospect, I'm pretty sure Hitler didn't think along these lines AT ALL.
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One Year+
Needless to say, being quit for a year is nuts. I've gone from being a dude who wanted only clean piss for a life insurance drug panel to being a complete quit Nazi. Like, I am the Fuhrer himself.
Quit is a big part of who I am. And I like that part of me. I've become empowered by it. I am seriously badass, and very awesome. What I've done is no fucking joke. Harder than quitting drinking, harder than controlling road rage, harder than being monogamous, harder than anything.
The only people who are better than me are other quitters. Basically, if you use tobacco, I am better than you. End of story. If you use tobacco, no matter how many great qualities you have, you are a loser. A huge zero. I am better than you because I beat back my addiction every day. And you can't even argue with me, because I will kill you or tickle you or kick your mom or do something else that's awesome and show you how much you suck.
I'm really glad that I've had it in me to do this. I'm glad that I feel my life is worth living and that I recognize all the wonderful things surrounding me. I've always been the type who takes nothing for granted, but my quit actually PROVES it. I'm badass, but I'm also lucky... lucky to see things the way I do and strive to be the best man I can be.
In retrospect, I'm pretty sure Hitler didn't think along these lines AT ALL.
Dean, that is one of the best post I have read! You are a badass! It is really a big deal to be quit for a year! Thanks for posting it! Harder than being monogamous?!
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One Year+
Needless to say, being quit for a year is nuts. I've gone from being a dude who wanted only clean piss for a life insurance drug panel to being a complete quit Nazi. Like, I am the Fuhrer himself.
Quit is a big part of who I am. And I like that part of me. I've become empowered by it. I am seriously badass, and very awesome. What I've done is no fucking joke. Harder than quitting drinking, harder than controlling road rage, harder than being monogamous, harder than anything.
The only people who are better than me are other quitters. Basically, if you use tobacco, I am better than you. End of story. If you use tobacco, no matter how many great qualities you have, you are a loser. A huge zero. I am better than you because I beat back my addiction every day. And you can't even argue with me, because I will kill you or tickle you or kick your mom or do something else that's awesome and show you how much you suck.
I'm really glad that I've had it in me to do this. I'm glad that I feel my life is worth living and that I recognize all the wonderful things surrounding me. I've always been the type who takes nothing for granted, but my quit actually PROVES it. I'm badass, but I'm also lucky... lucky to see things the way I do and strive to be the best man I can be.
In retrospect, I'm pretty sure Hitler didn't think along these lines AT ALL.
Dean, that is one of the best post I have read! You are a badass! It is really a big deal to be quit for a year! Thanks for posting it! Harder than being monogamous?!
You seem to be missing something though. You have helped many a losers become cool again, myself included.
Thanks
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Congratulations for being quit over a year! that is awesome.
love you long time
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One Year+
Needless to say, being quit for a year is nuts. I've gone from being a dude who wanted only clean piss for a life insurance drug panel to being a complete quit Nazi. Like, I am the Fuhrer himself.
Quit is a big part of who I am. And I like that part of me. I've become empowered by it. I am seriously badass, and very awesome. What I've done is no fucking joke. Harder than quitting drinking, harder than controlling road rage, harder than being monogamous, harder than anything.
The only people who are better than me are other quitters. Basically, if you use tobacco, I am better than you. End of story. If you use tobacco, no matter how many great qualities you have, you are a loser. A huge zero. I am better than you because I beat back my addiction every day. And you can't even argue with me, because I will kill you or tickle you or kick your mom or do something else that's awesome and show you how much you suck.
I'm really glad that I've had it in me to do this. I'm glad that I feel my life is worth living and that I recognize all the wonderful things surrounding me. I've always been the type who takes nothing for granted, but my quit actually PROVES it. I'm badass, but I'm also lucky... lucky to see things the way I do and strive to be the best man I can be.
In retrospect, I'm pretty sure Hitler didn't think along these lines AT ALL.
Dean, that is one of the best post I have read! You are a badass! It is really a big deal to be quit for a year! Thanks for posting it! Harder than being monogamous?!
You seem to be missing something though. You have helped many a losers become cool again, myself included.
Thanks
Good shit Dean !! Thanks for the post. I need to read posts like this that tell me what it will be like 200 days from now. Keep it up...
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Nice job on the year. Much congrats to you.
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One Year+
Needless to say, being quit for a year is nuts. I've gone from being a dude who wanted only clean piss for a life insurance drug panel to being a complete quit Nazi. Like, I am the Fuhrer himself.
Quit is a big part of who I am. And I like that part of me. I've become empowered by it. I am seriously badass, and very awesome. What I've done is no fucking joke. Harder than quitting drinking, harder than controlling road rage, harder than being monogamous, harder than anything.
The only people who are better than me are other quitters. Basically, if you use tobacco, I am better than you. End of story. If you use tobacco, no matter how many great qualities you have, you are a loser. A huge zero. I am better than you because I beat back my addiction every day. And you can't even argue with me, because I will kill you or tickle you or kick your mom or do something else that's awesome and show you how much you suck.
I'm really glad that I've had it in me to do this. I'm glad that I feel my life is worth living and that I recognize all the wonderful things surrounding me. I've always been the type who takes nothing for granted, but my quit actually PROVES it. I'm badass, but I'm also lucky... lucky to see things the way I do and strive to be the best man I can be.
In retrospect, I'm pretty sure Hitler didn't think along these lines AT ALL.
Dean, that is one of the best post I have read! You are a badass! It is really a big deal to be quit for a year! Thanks for posting it! Harder than being monogamous?!
You seem to be missing something though. You have helped many a losers become cool again, myself included.
Thanks
Good shit Dean !! Thanks for the post. I need to read posts like this that tell me what it will be like 200 days from now. Keep it up...
A year looks goo on ya big fella. Congrats.
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One Year+
Needless to say, being quit for a year is nuts. I've gone from being a dude who wanted only clean piss for a life insurance drug panel to being a complete quit Nazi. Like, I am the Fuhrer himself.
Quit is a big part of who I am. And I like that part of me. I've become empowered by it. I am seriously badass, and very awesome. What I've done is no fucking joke. Harder than quitting drinking, harder than controlling road rage, harder than being monogamous, harder than anything.
The only people who are better than me are other quitters. Basically, if you use tobacco, I am better than you. End of story. If you use tobacco, no matter how many great qualities you have, you are a loser. A huge zero. I am better than you because I beat back my addiction every day. And you can't even argue with me, because I will kill you or tickle you or kick your mom or do something else that's awesome and show you how much you suck.
I'm really glad that I've had it in me to do this. I'm glad that I feel my life is worth living and that I recognize all the wonderful things surrounding me. I've always been the type who takes nothing for granted, but my quit actually PROVES it. I'm badass, but I'm also lucky... lucky to see things the way I do and strive to be the best man I can be.
In retrospect, I'm pretty sure Hitler didn't think along these lines AT ALL.
Dean, that is one of the best post I have read! You are a badass! It is really a big deal to be quit for a year! Thanks for posting it! Harder than being monogamous?!
You seem to be missing something though. You have helped many a losers become cool again, myself included.
Thanks
Good shit Dean !! Thanks for the post. I need to read posts like this that tell me what it will be like 200 days from now. Keep it up...
A year looks goo on ya big fella. Congrats.
Something about the awesomeness of this post made me think of Lo Pan. I probably shouldn't feel worthy to type the name. Your awesomeness knows no bounds.
"Even if he didn't have a job, Lo Pan would just sit around doing bad-ass stuff like look at porn during church. Except he would also probably get bored at church and start randomly head-butting people, including little kids." - SWJ
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Something about the awesomeness of this post made me think of Lo Pan. I probably shouldn't feel worthy to type the name. Your awesomeness knows no bounds.
"Even if he didn't have a job, Lo Pan would just sit around doing bad-ass stuff like look at porn during church. Except he would also probably get bored at church and start randomly head-butting people, including little kids." - SWJ
Ha! God, I wish that MFer would have nothing better to do than post on KTC. He is missed.
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I was thinking...
I want to go back in time two or three years...back to when I dipped. I want to do this for one reason: to figure out why I didn't quit back then. I'd like to feel, once again, what it was like to be a dipper, just so I could compare it to what I am now (a completely awesome quitter) and figure out why it took me so long to stay quit.
The thing is, I've been pondering "choice." Last March, I didn't want to quit. At all. My HOF speech explains this. Nonetheless, I did quit. Not for just a few days or a couple weeks, but for the long haul. How the fuck did I do that? What was different then? Hell, what's different today?
Does anyone see WTF I'm getting at? How did I transform absolutely NO desire to quit into complete quit ownage? Was it really choice alone?
It's gotta be. And if so, why can't EVERYONE make that choice? WTF is WRONG with everyone?
Who was I three years ago?
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I was thinking...
I want to go back in time two or three years...back to when I dipped. I want to do this for one reason: to figure out why I didn't quit back then. I'd like to feel, once again, what it was like to be a dipper, just so I could compare it to what I am now (a completely awesome quitter) and figure out why it took me so long to stay quit.
The thing is, I've been pondering "choice." Last March, I didn't want to quit. At all. My HOF speech explains this. Nonetheless, I did quit. Not for just a few days or a couple weeks, but for the long haul. How the fuck did I do that? What was different then? Hell, what's different today?
Does anyone see WTF I'm getting at? How did I transform absolutely NO desire to quit into complete quit ownage? Was it really choice alone?
It's gotta be. And if so, why can't EVERYONE make that choice? WTF is WRONG with everyone?
Who was I three years ago?
You bring up some good questions. I'm wondering if the genius behind a site like KTC might be the answer? Only speaking for myself (a 50 day quitter), the day I found KTC was my Day 1 because I could see the wisdom behind daily roll call and personally accountability.
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I was thinking...
I want to go back in time two or three years...back to when I dipped. I want to do this for one reason: to figure out why I didn't quit back then. I'd like to feel, once again, what it was like to be a dipper, just so I could compare it to what I am now (a completely awesome quitter) and figure out why it took me so long to stay quit.
The thing is, I've been pondering "choice." Last March, I didn't want to quit. At all. My HOF speech explains this. Nonetheless, I did quit. Not for just a few days or a couple weeks, but for the long haul. How the fuck did I do that? What was different then? Hell, what's different today?
Does anyone see WTF I'm getting at? How did I transform absolutely NO desire to quit into complete quit ownage? Was it really choice alone?
It's gotta be. And if so, why can't EVERYONE make that choice? WTF is WRONG with everyone?
Who was I three years ago?
You bring up some good questions. I'm wondering if the genius behind a site like KTC might be the answer? Only speaking for myself (a 50 day quitter), the day I found KTC was my Day 1 because I could see the wisdom behind daily roll call and personal accountability.
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I was thinking...
I want to go back in time two or three years...back to when I dipped. I want to do this for one reason: to figure out why I didn't quit back then. I'd like to feel, once again, what it was like to be a dipper, just so I could compare it to what I am now (a completely awesome quitter) and figure out why it took me so long to stay quit.
The thing is, I've been pondering "choice." Last March, I didn't want to quit. At all. My HOF speech explains this. Nonetheless, I did quit. Not for just a few days or a couple weeks, but for the long haul. How the fuck did I do that? What was different then? Hell, what's different today?
Does anyone see WTF I'm getting at? How did I transform absolutely NO desire to quit into complete quit ownage? Was it really choice alone?
It's gotta be. And if so, why can't EVERYONE make that choice? WTF is WRONG with everyone?
Who was I three years ago?
You bring up some good questions. I'm wondering if the genius behind a site like KTC might be the answer? Only speaking for myself (a 50 day quitter), the day I found KTC was my Day 1 because I could see the wisdom behind daily roll call and personally accountability.
Lochi is on to something.
You think rationally, and with intelligence. You stumbled into something, saw the good in it, bought into it, and succeeded. It was indeed a matter of making the right choice.
Who am I kidding....you are a crazy fuck. The epitome of awesomeness though. A god. Truly a badass of the 2009 Class.
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I was thinking...
I want to go back in time two or three years...back to when I dipped. I want to do this for one reason: to figure out why I didn't quit back then. I'd like to feel, once again, what it was like to be a dipper, just so I could compare it to what I am now (a completely awesome quitter) and figure out why it took me so long to stay quit.
The thing is, I've been pondering "choice." Last March, I didn't want to quit. At all. My HOF speech explains this. Nonetheless, I did quit. Not for just a few days or a couple weeks, but for the long haul. How the fuck did I do that? What was different then? Hell, what's different today?
Does anyone see WTF I'm getting at? How did I transform absolutely NO desire to quit into complete quit ownage? Was it really choice alone?
It's gotta be. And if so, why can't EVERYONE make that choice? WTF is WRONG with everyone?
Who was I three years ago?
You bring up some good questions. I'm wondering if the genius behind a site like KTC might be the answer? Only speaking for myself (a 50 day quitter), the day I found KTC was my Day 1 because I could see the wisdom behind daily roll call and personal accountability.
I think it's a combination of things. I entered my quit with a clear sense of purpose - I knew I was limiting all aspects of my life. I truly wanted to quit for me and for the people I love. I think a person needs that mindset in order to be successful. Some have it coming in, some pick it up along the way, and some never see the light. The support and distraction of this site has kept that purpose in the forefront. I have a tendency to take things very seriously for a short period of time and then let them fade away. KTC has kept my quit in the forefront on a daily basis. Quitting is not a fad, it is a lifestyle. And everything about it is positive. I feel like I understand myself much better now than when I was using and I am a better person for it.
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I was thinking...
I want to go back in time two or three years...back to when I dipped. I want to do this for one reason: to figure out why I didn't quit back then. I'd like to feel, once again, what it was like to be a dipper, just so I could compare it to what I am now (a completely awesome quitter) and figure out why it took me so long to stay quit.
The thing is, I've been pondering "choice." Last March, I didn't want to quit. At all. My HOF speech explains this. Nonetheless, I did quit. Not for just a few days or a couple weeks, but for the long haul. How the fuck did I do that? What was different then? Hell, what's different today?
Does anyone see WTF I'm getting at? How did I transform absolutely NO desire to quit into complete quit ownage? Was it really choice alone?
It's gotta be. And if so, why can't EVERYONE make that choice? WTF is WRONG with everyone?
Who was I three years ago?
I probably have no business in this discussion, save for the fact that I'm barely removed from being that guy (22 days). I don't even really recognize or understand him already, except that the stench of shame, guilt and cowardice is still on me. Deep down we all know, I suppose, the chemical reactions that made us think we didn't "want" to quit, even in the face of all evidence that it was obviously the thing to do.
I really feel like a badass at meager 22 days, and it is as simple as making the choice but, yeah, why wasn't it simple years ago? Why am I able to be a badass today, one who makes the right choice in the face of irrational chemical urges (that is to say, to be an actual man), when I couldn't make that same choice every day for years? Why couldn't I choose to be a man instead of a loser then like I can now? Probably will never know exactly.
I think Lochi might be on to something. It's lame as hell that we need to be taught how to be a man at our respectively advanced years (38 for me), but that appears to be the case. For me I guess somebody had to put it to me in just the right way for me to stop acting like a complete child. If only the earlier yeller me, and all the other folks out there dipping could have it put to them just the right way, maybe they'd learn how to make grownup choices.
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I was thinking...
I want to go back in time two or three years...back to when I dipped. I want to do this for one reason: to figure out why I didn't quit back then. I'd like to feel, once again, what it was like to be a dipper, just so I could compare it to what I am now (a completely awesome quitter) and figure out why it took me so long to stay quit.
The thing is, I've been pondering "choice." Last March, I didn't want to quit. At all. My HOF speech explains this. Nonetheless, I did quit. Not for just a few days or a couple weeks, but for the long haul. How the fuck did I do that? What was different then? Hell, what's different today?
Does anyone see WTF I'm getting at? How did I transform absolutely NO desire to quit into complete quit ownage? Was it really choice alone?
It's gotta be. And if so, why can't EVERYONE make that choice? WTF is WRONG with everyone?
Who was I three years ago?
I probably have no business in this discussion, save for the fact that I'm barely removed from being that guy (22 days). I don't even really recognize or understand him already, except that the stench of shame, guilt and cowardice is still on me. Deep down we all know, I suppose, the chemical reactions that made us think we didn't "want" to quit, even in the face of all evidence that it was obviously the thing to do.
I really feel like a badass at meager 22 days, and it is as simple as making the choice but, yeah, why wasn't it simple years ago? Why am I able to be a badass today, one who makes the right choice in the face of irrational chemical urges (that is to say, to be an actual man), when I couldn't make that same choice every day for years? Why couldn't I choose to be a man instead of a loser then like I can now? Probably will never know exactly.
I think Lochi might be on to something. It's lame as hell that we need to be taught how to be a man at our respectively advanced years (38 for me), but that appears to be the case. For me I guess somebody had to put it to me in just the right way for me to stop acting like a complete child. If only the earlier yeller me, and all the other folks out there dipping could have it put to them just the right way, maybe they'd learn how to make grownup choices.
22 days is QUIT! I say focus on your current badass self. No regrets. You've got this.
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The support and distraction of this site has kept that purpose in the forefront. I have a tendency to take things very seriously for a short period of time and then let them fade away. KTC has kept my quit in the forefront on a daily basis.
This right here is the BALLS. It's exactly what I tried to communicate in my HOF speech. And it's exactly what keeps me quit today. Like literally, today. Without KTC, I'd be dipping at 3:23 p.m. on April 8, 2010. No fucking question.
It's both interesting and scary that we operate at a similar wavelength, Smokey.
(That wavelength, BTW, is on the 666 Hz spectrum. THE DEVIL INSIDE, just like INXS)
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The support and distraction of this site has kept that purpose in the forefront. I have a tendency to take things very seriously for a short period of time and then let them fade away. KTC has kept my quit in the forefront on a daily basis.
This right here is the BALLS. It's exactly what I tried to communicate in my HOF speech. And it's exactly what keeps me quit today. Like literally, today. Without KTC, I'd be dipping at 3:23 p.m. on April 8, 2010. No fucking question.
It's both interesting and scary that we operate at a similar wavelength, Smokey.
(That wavelength, BTW, is on the 666 Hz spectrum. THE DEVIL INSIDE, just like INXS)
Gashboy - 'Kiss' - Smokeyg
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Things that make me as excited as I was to get an e-mail from SWJ this morning
(In honor of, and inspired by, being excited.)
1. Hearing that one of the "Coreys" was dead. (One more to go.)
2. Seeing a kid pee on something he's not supposed to, like a potted plant or dog
3. Solar flares
4. Thinking I accidentally diarrheaed in my pants but discovering that it was just a scary fart and sweat from my lower back
5. Watching my cousin Stephanie at the beach
6. Stealing
7. Ejaculating into a towel at Planet Fitness and putting it back in the pile
8. Explaining to the police that I am not actually a member of Planet Fitness
9. Electrocuting myself with an old appliance
10. The mom from "Silver Spoons"
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5. Watching my cousin Stephanie at the beach
please say it's by marriage, please say it's by marriage
good to hear the wisdom again
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Things that make me as excited as I was to get an e-mail from SWJ this morning
(In honor of, and inspired by, being excited.)
1. Hearing that one of the "Coreys" was dead. (One more to go.)
2. Seeing a kid pee on something he's not supposed to, like a potted plant or dog
3. Solar flares
4. Thinking I accidentally diarrheaed in my pants but discovering that it was just a scary fart and sweat from my lower back
5. Watching my cousin Stephanie at the beach
6. Stealing
7. Ejaculating into a towel at Planet Fitness and putting it back in the pile
8. Explaining to the police that I am not actually a member of Planet Fitness
9. Electrocuting myself with an old appliance
10. The mom from "Silver Spoons"
Tell SWJ to get in here and post some funny shit again. That guy cracks me up.
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5. Watching my cousin Stephanie at the beach
please say it's by marriage, please say it's by marriage
good to hear the wisdom again
Nope! She even looks a little bit like me.
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The Four-Hundreds Funk
I've been relatively quiet lately. I post roll and stay quit, but I've been tired. Frustrated with caving newbies. Not feeling very inspired.
The one-year milestone is behind me. That was a BIG one. Day 500 is coming, but I don't care. I don't get much out of counting my days anymore. I even lose track.
This is a funk. The Four-Hundreds Funk. (This is copyrighted, along with "the Five-Hundreds Funk" and a new method I invented for removing a lost condom from a chick's uterus.)
Never before has it been more clear to me that quitting is a choice. A decision. Not a cumulative one, but a series of distinct moments where I battle back the demons and stay clean.
And I have to admit: It's sometimes difficult. I'm sorry if you're on Day 17 or Day 105 or Day 277 and believe you'll be free from cravings and confusion and sadness and disappointment. I'm afraid you won't be. Yes, I am shitting on your hopes. But I don't care.
Because the fact is, there's a decision to make. Every day - sometimes every minute - you choose to stay off the poison. And I really do believe that each time we do this, we gain a little more ground on the Bitch. We inch closer and closer to not only freedom, but peace. It may never come entirely, but it's right THERE. Ahhhhhhhhhh. Nice.
When it gets hard, ask yourself if it isn't worth it to be quit. Ask yourself if it would be better to sneak around spitting into a fucking coffee cup and having a mouthful of pre-cancerous leukoplakia and a racing heartbeat and NOT GETTING ANYTHING FROM IT. Not a thing.
I ask myself all these things, and it makes any funk not only completely irrelevant, but completely powerless.
I may not give a shit that I'll hit Day 500 soon, but I DO care that I go home at night, look at my son and wife, and know they're getting the best of me.
That's a sure-fire Funk Beater. (Also copyrighted.)
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The Four-Hundreds Funk
I've been relatively quiet lately. I post roll and stay quit, but I've been tired. Frustrated with caving newbies. Not feeling very inspired.
The one-year milestone is behind me. That was a BIG one. Day 500 is coming, but I don't care. I don't get much out of counting my days anymore. I even lose track.
This is a funk. The Four-Hundreds Funk. (This is copyrighted, along with "the Five-Hundreds Funk" and a new method I invented for removing a lost condom from a chick's uterus.)
Never before has it been more clear to me that quitting is a choice. A decision. Not a cumulative one, but a series of distinct moments where I battle back the demons and stay clean.
And I have to admit: It's sometimes difficult. I'm sorry if you're on Day 17 or Day 105 or Day 277 and believe you'll be free from cravings and confusion and sadness and disappointment. I'm afraid you won't be. Yes, I am shitting on your hopes. But I don't care.
Because the fact is, there's a decision to make. Every day - sometimes every minute - you choose to stay off the poison. And I really do believe that each time we do this, we gain a little more ground on the Bitch. We inch closer and closer to not only freedom, but peace. It may never come entirely, but it's right THERE. Ahhhhhhhhhh. Nice.
When it gets hard, ask yourself if it isn't worth it to be quit. Ask yourself if it would be better to sneak around spitting into a fucking coffee cup and having a mouthful of pre-cancerous leukoplakia and a racing heartbeat and NOT GETTING ANYTHING FROM IT. Not a thing.
I ask myself all these things, and it makes any funk not only completely irrelevant, but completely powerless.
I may not give a shit that I'll hit Day 500 soon, but I DO care that I go home at night, look at my son and wife, and know they're getting the best of me.
That's a sure-fire Funk Beater. (Also copyrighted.)
that about sums it up for me too.
plus too many Republicans. 'Finger'
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The Four-Hundreds Funk©®™
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Ya know, I'm glad somebody had the balls to bring this up, I sure as hell didn't. I hit a flippin brick wall around 460. Didn't get out of it until , well.... hopefully now. Just was thinking that I was feeling better today. In any case, nice to see some of my favorite quitters hitting the same patch of shit. I wonder if there is a post comma funk.
'bang head' 'bang head' 'bang head'
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and a new method I invented for removing a lost condom from a chick's uterus.)
Steak Tongs work.
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and a new method I invented for removing a lost condom from a chick's uterus.)
Steak Tongs work.
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup'
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Ya know, I'm glad somebody had the balls to bring this up, I sure as hell didn't. I hit a flippin brick wall around 460. Didn't get out of it until , well.... hopefully now. Just was thinking that I was feeling better today. In any case, nice to see some of my favorite quitters hitting the same patch of shit. I wonder if there is a post comma funk.
'bang head' 'bang head' 'bang head'
I'm with you on that one! Everytime I start thinking how nice a fat lip would be nowdays, I have to constantly remind myself about all the shitty dips I had along with the mouth sores, bleeding gums, stinking breath, and a racing hearbeat. Its amazing over time how the bad things seem to go away grom your memory and only the "positive" memories of your love for dip remain. :angry:
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Ya know, I'm glad somebody had the balls to bring this up, I sure as hell didn't. I hit a flippin brick wall around 460. Didn't get out of it until , well.... hopefully now. Just was thinking that I was feeling better today. In any case, nice to see some of my favorite quitters hitting the same patch of shit. I wonder if there is a post comma funk.
'bang head'Â 'bang head'Â 'bang head'
I'm with you on that one! Everytime I start thinking how nice a fat lip would be nowdays, I have to constantly remind myself about all the shitty dips I had along with the mouth sores, bleeding gums, stinking breath, and a racing hearbeat. Its amazing over time how the bad things seem to go away grom your memory and only the "positive" memories of your love for dip remain. :angry:
I'm far, far away from 500 days, but I don't mind be discouraged a little bit, if that's what this is.
Like you said, kdip, I fear the day down the road when I forget how absolutely desperate I was to quit. I was getting nothing positive out of dipping and SO many negatives. I despised my addiction then, and hopefully I'll still remember that when I'm still having to fight it at 500.
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Overnight Flight
Back in the day, I dipped when I was on an airplane. Needless to say, it fed my abominable addiction. But it also served as a really good tool to get revenge upon people who sucked. On more than one occasion, I poured my spitter onto the seat of the person next to me, if she wore too much perfume or asked about my job or was very ugly.
I even went so far as to pour my spitter into the lap of a sleeping passenger who farted throughout a flight. I hope he is dead.
Better yet, with dip, you could get revenge on pretty much the entire aircraft. If I ever found myself in a generally agitated state, I'd simply broadcast little handfuls of snuff like fairy dust, reaching distant rows and causing quite a commotion. Or, I'd shit in the sink in the bathroom and then decorate it with dip.
For the past couple years, I've been more boring on flights.
But on an overnight trip last week, I was thinking of all the fun I used to have. In honor of that fun, I forced myself to puke on a guy sitting in front of me who wouldn't shut up his kids or some weird bullshit. I puked a little bit on his head, but mostly on his shoulder.
I played it off like I was really sick and was sorry, but a couple people knew better - those who saw me stick my finger down my throat, for instance. They didn't say anything, though. They just had a nervous, troubled look on their faces. I sneered at them and pretended to channel ghosts.
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Overnight Flight
Back in the day, I dipped when I was on an airplane. Needless to say, it fed my abominable addiction. But it also served as a really good tool to get revenge upon people who sucked. On more than one occasion, I poured my spitter onto the seat of the person next to me, if she wore too much perfume or asked about my job or was very ugly.
I even went so far as to pour my spitter into the lap of a sleeping passenger who farted throughout a flight. I hope he is dead.
Better yet, with dip, you could get revenge on pretty much the entire aircraft. If I ever found myself in a generally agitated state, I'd simply broadcast little handfuls of snuff like fairy dust, reaching distant rows and causing quite a commotion. Or, I'd shit in the sink in the bathroom and then decorate it with dip.
For the past couple years, I've been more boring on flights.
But on an overnight trip last week, I was thinking of all the fun I used to have. In honor of that fun, I forced myself to puke on a guy sitting in front of me who wouldn't shut up his kids or some weird bullshit. I puked a little bit on his head, but mostly on his shoulder.
I played it off like I was really sick and was sorry, but a couple people knew better - those who saw me stick my finger down my throat, for instance. They didn't say anything, though. They just had a nervous, troubled look on their faces. I sneered at them and pretended to channel ghosts.
'crackup'
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Reflections @ 800
I had to take a fierce dump this morning. But every time I went to our men's room, someone was in the stall...the only one in the building. I held my poo for close to 45 minutes. Part agony, part ecstasy. I kept eking out little rumblings. The top of my boxers were wet, but I couldn't tell if it was upper-ass sweat from the pressure of stifling back a log or if I ripped some diarrhea.
I shit my pants pretty badly, it turned out, but that's not what I'm here to talk about.
Rather, the incident got me thinking about the sort of things I was going through 2+ years ago. One of which was that I didn't take a shit for more than a week when I quit. Without the laxative qualities of nicotine, I got all bound up.
I also had a hair-trigger temper. I managed to spare my wife the brunt of it. I spent every second I could with my little boy, in whose presence I couldn't possibly be upset. My poor dog, though...that was another story. I was all sorts of mean to her. I still feel bad about it. I mean, I laugh about it, because she was an idiot, but I still feel bad.
I was terrified during the first few weeks of my quit. Not of my health, but of an existence without my only crutch; my lifelong mate. I wasn't as fortunate as many of my other brothers, who were genuinely disgusted with their habits and couldn't find a single redeeming quality for tobacco. (I could identify many, which made the quitting that much harder.)
I found extreme value in KTC almost immediately, but that didn't help much - at least not directly. It was all about me and my word; having skin in the game; forging relationships that would be worth something and, therefore, be impossible to jeopardize. The shit the vets said made theoretical sense, but I had to take it all as a leap of faith. At Day 6 or Day 30 or Day 77, someone could have tattooed "It gets easier" on my dick, and I still would have doubted it.
But that was immaterial. It didn't matter to me if every day was as hard - or even harder - than the preceding day. I wasn't going to give up. I still don't. It hasn't changed a bit.
I have a lot of reflections. But mainly, I am still proud and amazed that I am here, quit. It's doable. I am proof of it. You, dear reader, are no more of a dirtbag addict than I am. No one loved tobacco more than I did. No one craved harder. So, no one quits harder. I am the Genghis Khan of Quit. I am fucking immortal. No one can touch me.
I think you're a maniac quitter, too. Just don't let me down. I will ravage you.
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...I will ravage you.
Do you promise? :rolleyes:
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The Four-Hundreds Funk
I needed this. Thanks for the heads up. Hitting 400 in 21 days and I do detect the stale scent of the doldrums around the corner.
I, for one, am excited about your 500th day free from nicotine! That's HUGE brother!
...no, not that. Your Quit!
Good luck with those sharts.
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Bump
For
The
Genghis Kahn
Of
Quit
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Overnight Flight
Back in the day, I dipped when I was on an airplane. Needless to say, it fed my abominable addiction. But it also served as a really good tool to get revenge upon people who sucked. On more than one occasion, I poured my spitter onto the seat of the person next to me, if she wore too much perfume or asked about my job or was very ugly.
I even went so far as to pour my spitter into the lap of a sleeping passenger who farted throughout a flight. I hope he is dead.
Better yet, with dip, you could get revenge on pretty much the entire aircraft. If I ever found myself in a generally agitated state, I'd simply broadcast little handfuls of snuff like fairy dust, reaching distant rows and causing quite a commotion. Or, I'd shit in the sink in the bathroom and then decorate it with dip.
For the past couple years, I've been more boring on flights.
But on an overnight trip last week, I was thinking of all the fun I used to have. In honor of that fun, I forced myself to puke on a guy sitting in front of me who wouldn't shut up his kids or some weird bullshit. I puked a little bit on his head, but mostly on his shoulder.
I played it off like I was really sick and was sorry, but a couple people knew better - those who saw me stick my finger down my throat, for instance. They didn't say anything, though. They just had a nervous, troubled look on their faces. I sneered at them and pretended to channel ghosts.
'crackup'
Taken any flights lately?
Isn't it about time for another episode of, "A day in the life of DeanTheCunt"?
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Overnight Flight
Back in the day, I dipped when I was on an airplane. Needless to say, it fed my abominable addiction. But it also served as a really good tool to get revenge upon people who sucked. On more than one occasion, I poured my spitter onto the seat of the person next to me, if she wore too much perfume or asked about my job or was very ugly.
I even went so far as to pour my spitter into the lap of a sleeping passenger who farted throughout a flight. I hope he is dead.
Better yet, with dip, you could get revenge on pretty much the entire aircraft. If I ever found myself in a generally agitated state, I'd simply broadcast little handfuls of snuff like fairy dust, reaching distant rows and causing quite a commotion. Or, I'd shit in the sink in the bathroom and then decorate it with dip.
For the past couple years, I've been more boring on flights.
But on an overnight trip last week, I was thinking of all the fun I used to have. In honor of that fun, I forced myself to puke on a guy sitting in front of me who wouldn't shut up his kids or some weird bullshit. I puked a little bit on his head, but mostly on his shoulder.
I played it off like I was really sick and was sorry, but a couple people knew better - those who saw me stick my finger down my throat, for instance. They didn't say anything, though. They just had a nervous, troubled look on their faces. I sneered at them and pretended to channel ghosts.
'crackup'
Taken any flights lately?
Isn't it about time for another episode of, "A day in the life of DeanTheCunt"?
You know, maybe it is time for something, bobo. Just not sure what. In all honesty, I think fatherhood has stripped me of wit, or even of the ability to laugh at anything other than the nonsense a three-year-old says. And while those things might, in fact, be funny, it has to be REAL funny to make anyone other than the three-year-old's parents laugh.
See? Fuck. There I go, making incredibly boring, safe comments. I am a real piece of shit.
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Overnight Flight
Back in the day, I dipped when I was on an airplane. Needless to say, it fed my abominable addiction. But it also served as a really good tool to get revenge upon people who sucked. On more than one occasion, I poured my spitter onto the seat of the person next to me, if she wore too much perfume or asked about my job or was very ugly.
I even went so far as to pour my spitter into the lap of a sleeping passenger who farted throughout a flight. I hope he is dead.
Better yet, with dip, you could get revenge on pretty much the entire aircraft. If I ever found myself in a generally agitated state, I'd simply broadcast little handfuls of snuff like fairy dust, reaching distant rows and causing quite a commotion. Or, I'd shit in the sink in the bathroom and then decorate it with dip.
For the past couple years, I've been more boring on flights.
But on an overnight trip last week, I was thinking of all the fun I used to have. In honor of that fun, I forced myself to puke on a guy sitting in front of me who wouldn't shut up his kids or some weird bullshit. I puked a little bit on his head, but mostly on his shoulder.
I played it off like I was really sick and was sorry, but a couple people knew better - those who saw me stick my finger down my throat, for instance. They didn't say anything, though. They just had a nervous, troubled look on their faces. I sneered at them and pretended to channel ghosts.
'crackup'
Taken any flights lately?
Isn't it about time for another episode of, "A day in the life of DeanTheCunt"?
You know, maybe it is time for something, bobo. Just not sure what. In all honesty, I think fatherhood has stripped me of wit, or even of the ability to laugh at anything other than the nonsense a three-year-old says. And while those things might, in fact, be funny, it has to be REAL funny to make anyone other than the three-year-old's parents laugh.
See? Fuck. There I go, making incredibly boring, safe comments. I am a real piece of shit.
man father hood is a time to hone your wit. just the other day i was reedin a old calvin comic ware he asked his dad how they no the wait limits on briges. the dad says the load up a truck to drive over hevyer and hevyer until it brakes the brige then they rebild it. well man thats what bein a dads all bout. makin shit up when you dont no the anser.
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Overnight Flight
Back in the day, I dipped when I was on an airplane. Needless to say, it fed my abominable addiction. But it also served as a really good tool to get revenge upon people who sucked. On more than one occasion, I poured my spitter onto the seat of the person next to me, if she wore too much perfume or asked about my job or was very ugly.
I even went so far as to pour my spitter into the lap of a sleeping passenger who farted throughout a flight. I hope he is dead.
Better yet, with dip, you could get revenge on pretty much the entire aircraft. If I ever found myself in a generally agitated state, I'd simply broadcast little handfuls of snuff like fairy dust, reaching distant rows and causing quite a commotion. Or, I'd shit in the sink in the bathroom and then decorate it with dip.
For the past couple years, I've been more boring on flights.
But on an overnight trip last week, I was thinking of all the fun I used to have. In honor of that fun, I forced myself to puke on a guy sitting in front of me who wouldn't shut up his kids or some weird bullshit. I puked a little bit on his head, but mostly on his shoulder.
I played it off like I was really sick and was sorry, but a couple people knew better - those who saw me stick my finger down my throat, for instance. They didn't say anything, though. They just had a nervous, troubled look on their faces. I sneered at them and pretended to channel ghosts.
'crackup'
Taken any flights lately?
Isn't it about time for another episode of, "A day in the life of DeanTheCunt"?
You know, maybe it is time for something, bobo. Just not sure what. In all honesty, I think fatherhood has stripped me of wit, or even of the ability to laugh at anything other than the nonsense a three-year-old says. And while those things might, in fact, be funny, it has to be REAL funny to make anyone other than the three-year-old's parents laugh.
See? Fuck. There I go, making incredibly boring, safe comments. I am a real piece of shit.
man father hood is a time to hone your wit. just the other day i was reedin a old calvin comic ware he asked his dad how they no the wait limits on briges. the dad says the load up a truck to drive over hevyer and hevyer until it brakes the brige then they rebild it. well man thats what bein a dads all bout. makin shit up when you dont no the anser.
That is true. And I surely weave a web of bullshit from time to time with my three-year-old when I either do not have a satisfactory answer or believe lying will be funnier.
For example...
Jack: Why does the [Sirius] radio stop working sometimes?
Dean: Because the clouds block the satellite.
Jack: The sall-a-tite? What?
Dean: Yes, the satellite.
Jack: What?
Dean: The satellite, Jack. The satellite talks to the car.
Jack: What?
Dean: The signal that the receiver on top of the vehicle is supposed to pick up, which is from outer space, is being interrupted by both cloud cover and, probably, moisture on that piece of garbage Chinese antenna that is magnetized to the roof. It also doesn't help that there are still leaves on the oak trees. That also compromises the path between the sall-a-tite and the receiver.
Jack: *blank stare out the window*
Jack: *long pause*
Jack: Oh. I didn't know that.
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Calvin and Hobbes are the best . . . .
Calvin: "Burp"
Calvin's Mom: What do you say?
Calvin: Boy, that sure tasted better the first time around.
Calvin's Mom: Calvin!!
Calvin: Sounds like a barge coming through.
Calvin's Mom: Calvin!!
Calvin: . . . . . Excuse me . . . .
Calvin: Dad, how does the sun move across the sky?
Calvin's Dad: Solar wind.
Paraphrased . . . . .
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Musings after a Comma
Have any of you guys ever tried to put your own peepee inside your own butt? Well, if you have, that's how good it feels to get a comma.
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Musings after a Comma
Have any of you guys ever tried to put your own peepee inside your own butt? Well, if you have, that's how good it feels to get a comma.
I want you inside me.
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Musings after a Comma
Have any of you guys ever tried to put your own peepee inside your own butt? Well, if you have, that's how good it feels to get a comma.
I dream about you. The dreams are haunting in a good way.
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Musings after a Comma
Have any of you guys ever tried to put your own peepee inside your own butt? Well, if you have, that's how good it feels to get a comma.
I want you inside me.
Obviously if you were Dean you wouldn't need you.
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Overnight Flight
Back in the day, I dipped when I was on an airplane. Needless to say, it fed my abominable addiction. But it also served as a really good tool to get revenge upon people who sucked. On more than one occasion, I poured my spitter onto the seat of the person next to me, if she wore too much perfume or asked about my job or was very ugly.
I even went so far as to pour my spitter into the lap of a sleeping passenger who farted throughout a flight. I hope he is dead.
Better yet, with dip, you could get revenge on pretty much the entire aircraft. If I ever found myself in a generally agitated state, I'd simply broadcast little handfuls of snuff like fairy dust, reaching distant rows and causing quite a commotion. Or, I'd shit in the sink in the bathroom and then decorate it with dip.
For the past couple years, I've been more boring on flights.
But on an overnight trip last week, I was thinking of all the fun I used to have. In honor of that fun, I forced myself to puke on a guy sitting in front of me who wouldn't shut up his kids or some weird bullshit. I puked a little bit on his head, but mostly on his shoulder.
I played it off like I was really sick and was sorry, but a couple people knew better - those who saw me stick my finger down my throat, for instance. They didn't say anything, though. They just had a nervous, troubled look on their faces. I sneered at them and pretended to channel ghosts.
That is some of the funniest shit I've read here, anywhere, seen on tv anywhere in a long time! Wow, thank you for that.
You "sall-a-tite" story was great too!
Just being able to have a good hearty laugh really keeps my mind off dip. Keep posting, man! I'd love to read more
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In Defense of Pirates - Inspired by May 2012
The opinion that pirates and pirating are gay is colored by how modern life and popular media have twisted things. I want you to reconsider.
FACT: Pirates never ate fruits or vegetables, which is supremely badass.
FACT: Pirates wore clothing that was all ripped apart, which made them look like they were attacked by a weasel, which is also supremely badass.
FACT: If the pirate's clothes were too torn to be worn, they would make and wear some sort of COSTUME, and that is awesome.
FACT: Pirates didn't actually make you walk the plank, which IS kinda gay, because it's a lot like diving, and diving is a gay sport. No, when you fucked up on pirate ship, they just slit your throat and ATE you, lips, asshole and everything.
FACT: Modern-day pirates, like those floating off the coast of Somalia, are so badass that they take on U.S. Navy destroyers. When's the last time YOU took on a U.S. Navy destroyer?
FACT: If one pirate felt like fucking another pirate, they just fucked. So what? That doesn't make you gay. That makes you resourceful and awesome. Imagine getting up right now and bending a dude over in the break room, no problem? Spectacular shit.
If the preceding isn't enough to change minds, I can go on and on.
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In Defense of Pirates - Inspired by May 2012
The opinion that pirates and pirating are gay is colored by how modern life and popular media have twisted things. I want you to reconsider.
FACT: Pirates never ate fruits or vegetables, which is supremely badass.
FACT: Pirates wore clothing that was all ripped apart, which made them look like they were attacked by a weasel, which is also supremely badass.
FACT: If the pirate's clothes were too torn to be worn, they would make and wear some sort of COSTUME, and that is awesome.
FACT: Pirates didn't actually make you walk the plank, which IS kinda gay, because it's a lot like diving, and diving is a gay sport. No, when you fucked up on pirate ship, they just slit your throat and ATE you, lips, asshole and everything.
FACT: Modern-day pirates, like those floating off the coast of Somalia, are so badass that they take on U.S. Navy destroyers. When's the last time YOU took on a U.S. Navy destroyer?
FACT: If one pirate felt like fucking another pirate, they just fucked. So what? That doesn't make you gay. That makes you resourceful and awesome. Imagine getting up right now and bending a dude over in the break room, no problem? Spectacular shit.
If the preceding isn't enough to change minds, I can go on and on.
After that last FACT bro, I want you to stop, because all I need is a reach around.
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In Defense of Pirates - Inspired by May 2012
The opinion that pirates and pirating are gay is colored by how modern life and popular media have twisted things. I want you to reconsider.
FACT: Pirates never ate fruits or vegetables, which is supremely badass.
FACT: Pirates wore clothing that was all ripped apart, which made them look like they were attacked by a weasel, which is also supremely badass.
FACT: If the pirate's clothes were too torn to be worn, they would make and wear some sort of COSTUME, and that is awesome.
FACT: Pirates didn't actually make you walk the plank, which IS kinda gay, because it's a lot like diving, and diving is a gay sport. No, when you fucked up on pirate ship, they just slit your throat and ATE you, lips, asshole and everything.
FACT: Modern-day pirates, like those floating off the coast of Somalia, are so badass that they take on U.S. Navy destroyers. When's the last time YOU took on a U.S. Navy destroyer?
FACT: If one pirate felt like fucking another pirate, they just fucked. So what? That doesn't make you gay. That makes you resourceful and awesome. Imagine getting up right now and bending a dude over in the break room, no problem? Spectacular shit.
If the preceding isn't enough to change minds, I can go on and on.
I quoted this into the may 2012 group.
Good stuff, Dean!
I love reading your posts great shit. You have to fill in now for swj since he hasn't posted in ages.
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Cool dig on Pirates, but the last two cross the line.
a) FACT: Modern-day pirates, like those floating off the coast of Somalia, are so badass that they take on U.S. Navy destroyers. When's the last time YOU took on a U.S. Navy destroyer?
Um, they don't "take on" Navy destroyers that I'm aware of. They take on unarmed commercial vessels, and periodically are pummeled by Navy vessels. Am I wrong? Is there a case where one of those little pussy pirate outboards approached a US Navy destroyer and got anywhere?
FACT: If one pirate felt like fucking another pirate, they just fucked. So what? That doesn't make you gay. That makes you resourceful and awesome. Imagine getting up right now and bending a dude over in the break room, no problem? Spectacular shit.
Um, ok. Gaydar is going off. I'm sorry, even though I read the previous eight bullets, I'm not falling for this one, bending a guy over even as a guy is gay as hell. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But even as a pirate, you're gay as hell if you want to bend a guy over in the break room. Not that there's anything wrong with that (Seinfeld political correctness included).
--Russ
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It's time for another edition of "The Wonderful World of DeanTheCunt"...
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Thanks for the props, MF. Mother Fucker. Male Floozie. Most Fairylike.
Here I am, on Day 38, and my bowel movements still have not returned to normal. I am pretty much shitting every third day. I grumped Monday, and I grumped this morning. It's getting a bit out of hand.
This morning's movement was special. Since quitting, the constipation has resulted in some mighty gigantic and robusto shits, but today's really was exceptional. I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.
You can imagine that a turd of such proportions is not toilet-friendly. After squeezing out what seemed to be a Peterbilt transmission, I flushed. No dice. My crap just stood up straight like the fucking Titanic and twisted in the bowl. I tried again, to no avail.
I couldn't just walk away from this mess. It wouldn't have been ethical. Because honestly, the next guy who sat down - if he didn't look - would have gotten my log right up his asshole.
I cleaned up and crept quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and into the offices. I spied a pencil on one of the marketing girl's desks. I swiped it and returned to the bathroom.
Chop chop chop chop...With the pencil, I broke my megapoo into seven or eight manageable pieces and flushed. The grump chunks, defeated, swirled into the sewer.
One interesting observation: I probably should have used the eraser end of the pencil. As it turned out, I drew all over the porcelain while playing ninja with my poop.
And what to do with the shitty pencil? I opted to wipe it clean and put it back on the girl's desk. That'll teach her to take my yogurt from the break room fridge.
I thought this might provoke some comment.
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Thanks for the props, MF. Mother Fucker. Male Floozie. Most Fairylike.
Here I am, on Day 38, and my bowel movements still have not returned to normal. I am pretty much shitting every third day. I grumped Monday, and I grumped this morning. It's getting a bit out of hand.
This morning's movement was special. Since quitting, the constipation has resulted in some mighty gigantic and robusto shits, but today's really was exceptional. I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.
You can imagine that a turd of such proportions is not toilet-friendly. After squeezing out what seemed to be a Peterbilt transmission, I flushed. No dice. My crap just stood up straight like the fucking Titanic and twisted in the bowl. I tried again, to no avail.
I couldn't just walk away from this mess. It wouldn't have been ethical. Because honestly, the next guy who sat down - if he didn't look - would have gotten my log right up his asshole.
I cleaned up and crept quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and into the offices. I spied a pencil on one of the marketing girl's desks. I swiped it and returned to the bathroom.
Chop chop chop chop...With the pencil, I broke my megapoo into seven or eight manageable pieces and flushed. The grump chunks, defeated, swirled into the sewer.
One interesting observation: I probably should have used the eraser end of the pencil. As it turned out, I drew all over the porcelain while playing ninja with my poop.
And what to do with the shitty pencil? I opted to wipe it clean and put it back on the girl's desk. That'll teach her to take my yogurt from the break room fridge.
I thought this might provoke some comment.
I've got nothing........... 'crackup' 'crackup'
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Thanks for the props, MF. Mother Fucker. Male Floozie. Most Fairylike.
Here I am, on Day 38, and my bowel movements still have not returned to normal. I am pretty much shitting every third day. I grumped Monday, and I grumped this morning. It's getting a bit out of hand.
This morning's movement was special. Since quitting, the constipation has resulted in some mighty gigantic and robusto shits, but today's really was exceptional. I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.
You can imagine that a turd of such proportions is not toilet-friendly. After squeezing out what seemed to be a Peterbilt transmission, I flushed. No dice. My crap just stood up straight like the fucking Titanic and twisted in the bowl. I tried again, to no avail.
I couldn't just walk away from this mess. It wouldn't have been ethical. Because honestly, the next guy who sat down - if he didn't look - would have gotten my log right up his asshole.
I cleaned up and crept quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and into the offices. I spied a pencil on one of the marketing girl's desks. I swiped it and returned to the bathroom.
Chop chop chop chop...With the pencil, I broke my megapoo into seven or eight manageable pieces and flushed. The grump chunks, defeated, swirled into the sewer.
One interesting observation: I probably should have used the eraser end of the pencil. As it turned out, I drew all over the porcelain while playing ninja with my poop.
And what to do with the shitty pencil? I opted to wipe it clean and put it back on the girl's desk. That'll teach her to take my yogurt from the break room fridge.
I thought this might provoke some comment.
I've got nothing........... 'crackup' 'crackup'
holy shit, that's funny. needed that this morning.
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Thanks for the props, MF. Mother Fucker. Male Floozie. Most Fairylike.
Here I am, on Day 38, and my bowel movements still have not returned to normal. I am pretty much shitting every third day. I grumped Monday, and I grumped this morning. It's getting a bit out of hand.
This morning's movement was special. Since quitting, the constipation has resulted in some mighty gigantic and robusto shits, but today's really was exceptional. I guarantee that if I was shitting in the woods, this dump would have laid out on the leaves at least 18 inches, end to end. Probably more.
You can imagine that a turd of such proportions is not toilet-friendly. After squeezing out what seemed to be a Peterbilt transmission, I flushed. No dice. My crap just stood up straight like the fucking Titanic and twisted in the bowl. I tried again, to no avail.
I couldn't just walk away from this mess. It wouldn't have been ethical. Because honestly, the next guy who sat down - if he didn't look - would have gotten my log right up his asshole.
I cleaned up and crept quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and into the offices. I spied a pencil on one of the marketing girl's desks. I swiped it and returned to the bathroom.
Chop chop chop chop...With the pencil, I broke my megapoo into seven or eight manageable pieces and flushed. The grump chunks, defeated, swirled into the sewer.
One interesting observation: I probably should have used the eraser end of the pencil. As it turned out, I drew all over the porcelain while playing ninja with my poop.
And what to do with the shitty pencil? I opted to wipe it clean and put it back on the girl's desk. That'll teach her to take my yogurt from the break room fridge.
I thought this might provoke some comment.
I've got nothing........... 'crackup' 'crackup'
holy shit, that's funny. needed that this morning.
Just when I thought my non-nicotine brain could not get any more deviant.....
TIFFS X infinity.
'crackup' 'crackup' 'crackup'
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Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
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Holy Shit, this might be the funniest thing I have seen in years. I literally may not sleep for a few days as I go through this entire thread. I really can't remember the last time I have laughed this hard, and I have only read a few of Dean's posts.
Thanks KKLJINC for bringing this back to the top for us new guys. I really only opened it so I could watch your avatar again, but to my surprise this is internet gold.
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Holy Shit, this might be the funniest thing I have seen in years. I literally may not sleep for a few days as I go through this entire thread. I really can't remember the last time I have laughed this hard, and I have only read a few of Dean's posts.
Thanks KKLJINC for bringing this back to the top for us new guys. I really only opened it so I could watch your avatar again, but to my surprise this is internet gold.
Can't wait to have time to run through this intro thread. Been quit four months and never seen the name DeanTheCoot. I absolutely LOVED every minute of reading that. Full on erection and still able to piss a rainbow. And then lack the ability to feel any amount of embarrassment. And then envision a 60 year old woman flogging herself, adding that he would love to piss on her. Not doubt with a full erection.
Damn that was funny!!
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Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
Dammit KKLJINC! I was in a meeting and my douche boss was being extra boring so all ninja like I open KTC and Intros to pass the time. I saw that you commented on DeanTheCoots and figured I'd see what's up as I have seen his name at various times but never his intro.
I got to the fourth paragraph, right to, "Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection" to be precise. That's when I lost it. I had to get up and rush to the shitter where I could laugh out loud for a few minutes. I was in there for a while. Couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure my boss and the other people all figured I had the squirts.
I just finished reading it, about 9 hours later, and like you, I have tears in my eyes and my gut hurts from laughing. Keep digging for gold, brother. And DeanTheCoot, I'm going to start pissing outside exclusively when I walk the dog.
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Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
Dammit KKLJINC! I was in a meeting and my douche boss was being extra boring so all ninja like I open KTC and Intros to pass the time. I saw that you commented on DeanTheCoots and figured I'd see what's up as I have seen his name at various times but never his intro.
I got to the fourth paragraph, right to, "Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection" to be precise. That's when I lost it. I had to get up and rush to the shitter where I could laugh out loud for a few minutes. I was in there for a while. Couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure my boss and the other people all figured I had the squirts.
I just finished reading it, about 9 hours later, and like you, I have tears in my eyes and my gut hurts from laughing. Keep digging for gold, brother. And DeanTheCoot, I'm going to start pissing outside exclusively when I walk the dog.
What I like the most about Dean (other than his huge cock of course) is that he's a funny guy that still posts roll and sticks around to pay it forward.
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Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
Dammit KKLJINC! I was in a meeting and my douche boss was being extra boring so all ninja like I open KTC and Intros to pass the time. I saw that you commented on DeanTheCoots and figured I'd see what's up as I have seen his name at various times but never his intro.
I got to the fourth paragraph, right to, "Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection" to be precise. That's when I lost it. I had to get up and rush to the shitter where I could laugh out loud for a few minutes. I was in there for a while. Couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure my boss and the other people all figured I had the squirts.
I just finished reading it, about 9 hours later, and like you, I have tears in my eyes and my gut hurts from laughing. Keep digging for gold, brother. And DeanTheCoot, I'm going to start pissing outside exclusively when I walk the dog.
What I like the most about Dean (other than his huge cock of course) is that he's a funny guy that still posts roll and sticks around to pay it forward.
Aside from hilarity, you look the others who shared time with him as a new quitter, lots of green squares, under those names.. Thanks Dean
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Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
Dammit KKLJINC! I was in a meeting and my douche boss was being extra boring so all ninja like I open KTC and Intros to pass the time. I saw that you commented on DeanTheCoots and figured I'd see what's up as I have seen his name at various times but never his intro.
I got to the fourth paragraph, right to, "Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection" to be precise. That's when I lost it. I had to get up and rush to the shitter where I could laugh out loud for a few minutes. I was in there for a while. Couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure my boss and the other people all figured I had the squirts.
I just finished reading it, about 9 hours later, and like you, I have tears in my eyes and my gut hurts from laughing. Keep digging for gold, brother. And DeanTheCoot, I'm going to start pissing outside exclusively when I walk the dog.
What I like the most about Dean (other than his huge cock of course) is that he's a funny guy that still posts roll and sticks around to pay it forward.
Aside from hilarity, you look the others who shared time with him as a new quitter, lots of green squares, under those names.. Thanks Dean
Shit I read this this morning and find my eyes are wet too. These aren't tears brought on by laughter, rather I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of longing for that spontaneous morning wood of my youth. Today getting caught like Dean did would be less likely. Instead the nice lady would probably step up and ask why I had my head against the tree? That's so I can hold myself up as I lean forward to avoid pissing on my feet. The other problem would be when I pulled the boxers off my big gut they would drop to the ground since the band is so stretched out of shape (can you use suspenders to hold up boxers? How about dicks?). Damn age induces a lot of sagging. Sure all you guys can laugh at what I'm saying but your time will come too! Dean posted that 4 years ago, I would bet he's already seeing that pee stream weaken, if not it soon will. A word of advise from an old fart, start spreading your feet while you pee so you'll be prepared, to avoid pissing on your feet.
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Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
Dammit KKLJINC! I was in a meeting and my douche boss was being extra boring so all ninja like I open KTC and Intros to pass the time. I saw that you commented on DeanTheCoots and figured I'd see what's up as I have seen his name at various times but never his intro.
I got to the fourth paragraph, right to, "Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection" to be precise. That's when I lost it. I had to get up and rush to the shitter where I could laugh out loud for a few minutes. I was in there for a while. Couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure my boss and the other people all figured I had the squirts.
I just finished reading it, about 9 hours later, and like you, I have tears in my eyes and my gut hurts from laughing. Keep digging for gold, brother. And DeanTheCoot, I'm going to start pissing outside exclusively when I walk the dog.
What I like the most about Dean (other than his huge cock of course) is that he's a funny guy that still posts roll and sticks around to pay it forward.
Aside from hilarity, you look the others who shared time with him as a new quitter, lots of green squares, under those names.. Thanks Dean
Shit I read this this morning and find my eyes are wet too. These aren't tears brought on by laughter, rather I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of longing for that spontaneous morning wood of my youth. Today getting caught like Dean did would be less likely. Instead the nice lady would probably step up and ask why I had my head against the tree? That's so I can hold myself up as I lean forward to avoid pissing on my feet. The other problem would be when I pulled the boxers off my big gut they would drop to the ground since the band is so stretched out of shape (can you use suspenders to hold up boxers? How about dicks?). Damn age induces a lot of sagging. Sure all you guys can laugh at what I'm saying but your time will come too! Dean posted that 4 years ago, I would bet he's already seeing that pee stream weaken, if not it soon will. A word of advise from an old fart, start spreading your feet while you pee so you'll be prepared, to avoid pissing on your feet.
Holy hell. I don't think I ever want to go back to work again. I am just going to sit here and read this shit over and over again. My son was looking at me saying, "daddy what's so funny". So I told him, "I'm reading about morning wood". He, being eight years old comtemplates this for a moment, then responds, "daddy are you talking about waking up with a boner"?
WHY THE HELL DOES MY EIGHT YEAR OLD KNOW WHAT A BONER IS????
Note to self: Find out why Gabe knows what a boner is, then beat his older brother for telling him.....
Gonna be a long summer. boys..... But at least I have good shit to read!
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
Dammit KKLJINC! I was in a meeting and my douche boss was being extra boring so all ninja like I open KTC and Intros to pass the time. I saw that you commented on DeanTheCoots and figured I'd see what's up as I have seen his name at various times but never his intro.
I got to the fourth paragraph, right to, "Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection" to be precise. That's when I lost it. I had to get up and rush to the shitter where I could laugh out loud for a few minutes. I was in there for a while. Couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure my boss and the other people all figured I had the squirts.
I just finished reading it, about 9 hours later, and like you, I have tears in my eyes and my gut hurts from laughing. Keep digging for gold, brother. And DeanTheCoot, I'm going to start pissing outside exclusively when I walk the dog.
What I like the most about Dean (other than his huge cock of course) is that he's a funny guy that still posts roll and sticks around to pay it forward.
Aside from hilarity, you look the others who shared time with him as a new quitter, lots of green squares, under those names.. Thanks Dean
Shit I read this this morning and find my eyes are wet too. These aren't tears brought on by laughter, rather I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of longing for that spontaneous morning wood of my youth. Today getting caught like Dean did would be less likely. Instead the nice lady would probably step up and ask why I had my head against the tree? That's so I can hold myself up as I lean forward to avoid pissing on my feet. The other problem would be when I pulled the boxers off my big gut they would drop to the ground since the band is so stretched out of shape (can you use suspenders to hold up boxers? How about dicks?). Damn age induces a lot of sagging. Sure all you guys can laugh at what I'm saying but your time will come too! Dean posted that 4 years ago, I would bet he's already seeing that pee stream weaken, if not it soon will. A word of advise from an old fart, start spreading your feet while you pee so you'll be prepared, to avoid pissing on your feet.
Holy hell. I don't think I ever want to go back to work again. I am just going to sit here and read this shit over and over again. My son was looking at me saying, "daddy what's so funny". So I told him, "I'm reading about morning wood". He, being eight years old comtemplates this for a moment, then responds, "daddy are you talking about waking up with a boner"?
WHY THE HELL DOES MY EIGHT YEAR OLD KNOW WHAT A BONER IS????
Note to self: Find out why Gabe knows what a boner is, then beat his older brother for telling him.....
Gonna be a long summer. boys..... But at least I have good shit to read!
Right Phil? Although at 8 I am sure you knew what a boner was too.
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
Dammit KKLJINC! I was in a meeting and my douche boss was being extra boring so all ninja like I open KTC and Intros to pass the time. I saw that you commented on DeanTheCoots and figured I'd see what's up as I have seen his name at various times but never his intro.
I got to the fourth paragraph, right to, "Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection" to be precise. That's when I lost it. I had to get up and rush to the shitter where I could laugh out loud for a few minutes. I was in there for a while. Couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure my boss and the other people all figured I had the squirts.
I just finished reading it, about 9 hours later, and like you, I have tears in my eyes and my gut hurts from laughing. Keep digging for gold, brother. And DeanTheCoot, I'm going to start pissing outside exclusively when I walk the dog.
What I like the most about Dean (other than his huge cock of course) is that he's a funny guy that still posts roll and sticks around to pay it forward.
Aside from hilarity, you look the others who shared time with him as a new quitter, lots of green squares, under those names.. Thanks Dean
Shit I read this this morning and find my eyes are wet too. These aren't tears brought on by laughter, rather I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of longing for that spontaneous morning wood of my youth. Today getting caught like Dean did would be less likely. Instead the nice lady would probably step up and ask why I had my head against the tree? That's so I can hold myself up as I lean forward to avoid pissing on my feet. The other problem would be when I pulled the boxers off my big gut they would drop to the ground since the band is so stretched out of shape (can you use suspenders to hold up boxers? How about dicks?). Damn age induces a lot of sagging. Sure all you guys can laugh at what I'm saying but your time will come too! Dean posted that 4 years ago, I would bet he's already seeing that pee stream weaken, if not it soon will. A word of advise from an old fart, start spreading your feet while you pee so you'll be prepared, to avoid pissing on your feet.
Holy hell. I don't think I ever want to go back to work again. I am just going to sit here and read this shit over and over again. My son was looking at me saying, "daddy what's so funny". So I told him, "I'm reading about morning wood". He, being eight years old comtemplates this for a moment, then responds, "daddy are you talking about waking up with a boner"?
WHY THE HELL DOES MY EIGHT YEAR OLD KNOW WHAT A BONER IS????
Note to self: Find out why Gabe knows what a boner is, then beat his older brother for telling him.....
Gonna be a long summer. boys..... But at least I have good shit to read!
Right Phil? Although at 8 I am sure you knew what a boner was too.
I was raised in a conservative communal environment. We didn't have running water, phones, toys, or magazines. I grew up with the understanding that my "boner" was merely something that was to be used to assist me in standing up while brushing my teeth at the pond. (kinda like a tri-pod) The only problem I had was it getting clogged with mud from the bottom of the pond. But it did keep me standing upright on the bank.....
'na na'
-
You guys are too kind, really.
Dean - 1,522
-
You guys are too kind, really.
Dean - 1,522
Found my new man crush. Loot may be a little upset, but I think he will understand....
:wub:
-
You guys are too kind, really.
Dean - 1,522
Found my new man crush. Loot may be a little upset, but I think he will understand....
:wub:
All you Jackwagins are whores!!
-
You guys are too kind, really.
Dean - 1,522
Found my new man crush. Loot may be a little upset, but I think he will understand....
:wub:
All you Jackwagins are whores!!
AWWW, KK a little jealous? I've got plenty of man love for you too.
'loot01'
-
I wanted to bump this back up, Dean is a quit god, and a writer that has a direct link to my funny bone.
NEWBS...go back to the first post and read through this entire thread. You will learn how to quit all while pissing your pants laughing.
Dean, thank you for your words, and your continued QUIT.
KK
-
I wanted to bump this back up, Dean is a quit god, and a writer that has a direct link to my funny bone.
NEWBS...go back to the first post and read through this entire thread. You will learn how to quit all while pissing your pants laughing.
Dean, thank you for your words, and your continued QUIT.
KK
Good call KK. I've read this thread over and over! It's brilliant, it's DAMN funny, it's an education.
Thanks Dean...
-
I wanted to bump this back up, Dean is a quit god, and a writer that has a direct link to my funny bone.
NEWBS...go back to the first post and read through this entire thread. You will learn how to quit all while pissing your pants laughing.
Dean, thank you for your words, and your continued QUIT.
KK
Good call KK. I've read this thread over and over! It's brilliant, it's DAMN funny, it's an education.
Thanks Dean...
Thanks for posting this ! Great HOF comments ! all good -
-
Was this my introduction thread? I could have sworn it had a different name.
Where am I?
-
Eh, whatever. Maybe I'm spent.
But maybe it's something instructive. Maybe I have been away too long (probably a month or six weeks). Maybe something weird happened with the site while I was gone.
The point being: I shouldn't go away for such long intervals.
Anyway
1,730
I had a dream a few days ago that I went into the store and bought a twin pack of dip. It was on sale. It didn't feel good. When I woke up, I mean. I was reminded about how nasty it would be to throw away the quit.
So let me talk wolf shirts for a minute.
The t-shirts with one big wolf and like three smaller wolfs in the background behind that wolf, and a twilight sky with a moon and some stars.
Where do these things come from?
And don't tell me Wal-Mart, because that's not funny or true. I've looked there.
-
Are you talking about a shirt with a pack of wolves at twilight like This (http://i223.photobucket.com/albums/dd120/hipsterrunoff/photographs/wolf_shirt_9.jpg), or a pack of wolves from twilight like THIS (http://gayscifinerds.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/wolf-pack.jpg)? Either way, that's cool.
Glad to see you back. Many noobs need to read your Intro from page 1.
-
Glad to see you back too. Wolves are awesome but I thought of this.... (http://www.teesforall.com/images/Hangover_One_Man_Wolfpack_Navy_Shirt.jpg)
-
Day 178
This morning, I got caught taking a piss off my sidewalk into my front yard. It was weird and fun.
I live in a rural area. I have neighbors, but they're hundreds of feet away, through the trees. My road is not heavily traveled.
THIS is what I see from my sidewalk.THIS (http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww145/mdeanbates/Hill.jpg)
I was up around sunrise, and I took the dog out. Wearing only boxers, I was groggy, per usual. I stood on the sidewalk and let the dog do his business, and I was talking to myself...per usual.
Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection. This morning was no exception. So I was standing there, holding the leash, close to naked in the chilly air, and decided to piss. I flopped the waistband of my boxers under my nutsack, further propping my dick skyward.
I began urinating, sending a steady stream up and crowning about chest-level. Of course, I also twisted my hips to create a sprinkler effect. All along, the dog is sniffing the grass and shitting, and I am still talking to myself and kinda growling.
At this moment, I meet eyes with one of my neighbors - a nice woman in her early 60s. She's just trekking along, taking a little stroll in the filtered sunlight, and WHAM...she turns the corner to see a fully erect madman pissing toward the sky.
"Whoooop. Oh.....my...uh...." I heard her utter as she quickened her pace.
I was initially embarrassed. For about two seconds. And then I got to thinking: SHE is probably the one who is embarrassed. It's MY yard, after all. Moreover, it was AWESOME that my dick was that hard. I want to believe she went home and frigged herself into a dizzying orgasm...and has now developed a golden-shower fetish.
I'll piss on her anytime, if she wants.
Dean, I dont know you, but I have spent the last hour in tears rummaging through twenty some pages of posts.
I am in tears and my guts hurt! I had to bring this up to the top, so the newbs can see quit excellence and comedic timing like no other.
Dammit KKLJINC! I was in a meeting and my douche boss was being extra boring so all ninja like I open KTC and Intros to pass the time. I saw that you commented on DeanTheCoots and figured I'd see what's up as I have seen his name at various times but never his intro.
I got to the fourth paragraph, right to, "Mornings often bring a nice surprise: a huge fucking erection" to be precise. That's when I lost it. I had to get up and rush to the shitter where I could laugh out loud for a few minutes. I was in there for a while. Couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure my boss and the other people all figured I had the squirts.
I just finished reading it, about 9 hours later, and like you, I have tears in my eyes and my gut hurts from laughing. Keep digging for gold, brother. And DeanTheCoot, I'm going to start pissing outside exclusively when I walk the dog.
What I like the most about Dean (other than his huge cock of course) is that he's a funny guy that still posts roll and sticks around to pay it forward.
Aside from hilarity, you look the others who shared time with him as a new quitter, lots of green squares, under those names.. Thanks Dean
Shit I read this this morning and find my eyes are wet too. These aren't tears brought on by laughter, rather I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of longing for that spontaneous morning wood of my youth. Today getting caught like Dean did would be less likely. Instead the nice lady would probably step up and ask why I had my head against the tree? That's so I can hold myself up as I lean forward to avoid pissing on my feet. The other problem would be when I pulled the boxers off my big gut they would drop to the ground since the band is so stretched out of shape (can you use suspenders to hold up boxers? How about dicks?). Damn age induces a lot of sagging. Sure all you guys can laugh at what I'm saying but your time will come too! Dean posted that 4 years ago, I would bet he's already seeing that pee stream weaken, if not it soon will. A word of advise from an old fart, start spreading your feet while you pee so you'll be prepared, to avoid pissing on your feet.
Oh, man, months later i'm cracking up and have my own wet eyes! We need some more of this lately! WT, your plight brings to mind a song by RL Burnside-- I can't remember the song but the album was Come On In. It's a real gritty, funky, raw blues album.
The song in question, he says:
Used to be, every mornin when i got up, i had to hold it down with both hands just to keep from pissin up ma nose.....
Nowdays, i gotta use both hands to hold it up, just to keep from pissing on ma toes. It's bad man.
He's singing your blues Wt! If you ever get a chance, check the song out!
-
Are you talking about a shirt with a pack of wolves at twilight like This (http://i223.photobucket.com/albums/dd120/hipsterrunoff/photographs/wolf_shirt_9.jpg), or a pack of wolves from twilight like THIS (http://gayscifinerds.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/wolf-pack.jpg)? Either way, that's cool.
Glad to see you back. Many noobs need to read your Intro from page 1.
YES. The former. That's PERFECT
hahahahahahahahhahaha
-
Glad to see you back too. Wolves are awesome but I thought of this.... (http://www.teesforall.com/images/Hangover_One_Man_Wolfpack_Navy_Shirt.jpg)
hahahahahahhahahah excellent
-
Congrats on five years of freedom.
-
Congrats on five years of freedom.
Congrats! Also, if you haven't read this guy's intro thread, do not do another thing with your day until you read about his morning wood run-in with his neighbor. 'crackup'
-
Congrats on five years of freedom.
Thanks, my man. I appreciate everything you've done and do.
Next stop: 10 years
-
Congrats on five years of freedom.
2nd that!
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
Good shit! thanks for the motivation!
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
Good shit! thanks for the motivation!
Congrats and thanks! It means a lot to hear from you.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
Good shit! thanks for the motivation!
Congrats and thanks! It means a lot to hear from you.
Congrats on 5 years. I will never forget in my early quit when I was holding on by a thread, you pm'd me and told me to post roll. If I didn't you were gonna squat over me and drop a deuce. You can't BUY that kind of encouragement. LOL.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
Good shit! thanks for the motivation!
Congrats and thanks! It means a lot to hear from you.
Congrats on 5 years. I will never forget in my early quit when I was holding on by a thread, you pm'd me and told me to post roll. If I didn't you were gonna squat over me and drop a deuce. You can't BUY that kind of encouragement. LOL.
Dean, you know I am a fan, every few months i make sure to bring your thread up, so the newbs can learn how to quit while laughing so hard you cant take a breath. On shit days I would read your thread, feel your pain and relate. Thanks for being a epic quitter. Thanks for inspiring me and making me want those plus one's.
Now if i can just get my next door neighbor to dream of my golden showers.
I quit with you.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
Good shit! thanks for the motivation!
Congrats and thanks! It means a lot to hear from you.
Congrats on 5 years. I will never forget in my early quit when I was holding on by a thread, you pm'd me and told me to post roll. If I didn't you were gonna squat over me and drop a deuce. You can't BUY that kind of encouragement. LOL.
Dean, you know I am a fan, every few months i make sure to bring your thread up, so the newbs can learn how to quit while laughing so hard you cant take a breath. On shit days I would read your thread, feel your pain and relate. Thanks for being a epic quitter. Thanks for inspiring me and making me want those plus one's.
Now if i can just get my next door neighbor to dream of my golden showers.
I quit with you.
LMAO! I just spent over an hour reading your Intro thread. Lots of wisdom entertainment in there!
Congrats on 5 yrs!
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
Good shit! thanks for the motivation!
Congrats and thanks! It means a lot to hear from you.
Congrats on 5 years. I will never forget in my early quit when I was holding on by a thread, you pm'd me and told me to post roll. If I didn't you were gonna squat over me and drop a deuce. You can't BUY that kind of encouragement. LOL.
Dean, you know I am a fan, every few months i make sure to bring your thread up, so the newbs can learn how to quit while laughing so hard you cant take a breath. On shit days I would read your thread, feel your pain and relate. Thanks for being a epic quitter. Thanks for inspiring me and making me want those plus one's.
Now if i can just get my next door neighbor to dream of my golden showers.
I quit with you.
LMAO! I just spent over an hour reading your Intro thread. Lots of wisdom entertainment in there!
Congrats on 5 yrs!
Congrats on 5 years! Quit with you today!
-
I'm grateful for all the support and for all the eyeballs that land on the things I write. Thanks for the congrats...I won't let anyone down.
FYI, The family and I moved in late 2009. We're way, way out in the sticks now, and there aren't many neighbors. No one to see me whizzing off my front stoop.
So instead, I walk out into the woods a few mornings during the week and show my hard-on to the wildlife. The bobcat have a special scream when they see it.
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
Good shit! thanks for the motivation!
Congrats and thanks! It means a lot to hear from you.
Congrats on 5 years. I will never forget in my early quit when I was holding on by a thread, you pm'd me and told me to post roll. If I didn't you were gonna squat over me and drop a deuce. You can't BUY that kind of encouragement. LOL.
Dean, you know I am a fan, every few months i make sure to bring your thread up, so the newbs can learn how to quit while laughing so hard you cant take a breath. On shit days I would read your thread, feel your pain and relate. Thanks for being a epic quitter. Thanks for inspiring me and making me want those plus one's.
Now if i can just get my next door neighbor to dream of my golden showers.
I quit with you.
LMAO! I just spent over an hour reading your Intro thread. Lots of wisdom entertainment in there!
Congrats on 5 yrs!
Congrats on 5 years! Quit with you today!
5 years!!!!! Congrats
-
Five Years
Who the hell is going to listen to me? Five years is an eternity for any guy who is trying to notch his first five *hours* without nicotine. And let's face it: There are a lot more dudes here right now with five hours under their belt. Or five days, or five weeks. And it ain't easy for them.
To those guys, I'm like the chupacabra: mean and nasty and very very cool and probably not real.
Five years? On March 24, 2009, I couldn't picture being dip-less for five years. It was laughable. I was surely not going to make it. I wasn't committed, and I knew it, but I was going through the motions to "quit" anyway.
Then I stumbled onto KTC. I went into chat. Someone asked me, "Are you quit?"
My answer was something like "That depends." As far as I knew, it DID depend. I was "quit" for what...two days? That wasn't quit. Was it?
About fourteen dudes in chat proceeded to run a train on me, spewing vicious hatred and judgment, telling me to fuck myself and whatnot if I dared have a cheek full of dip while in chat.
I liked that.
Yes, goddamn it, I was QUIT.
For the first time, that word meant something to me. I wasn't "trying" to quit. Or trying to "be" quit. I was just fucking quit. Noun, verb, adjective, adverb quit. This is my quit. I quit. That's a quit look you have on your face. I'm quitly shitting.
It's all I was for many months. Just quit. I didn't have the strength to do or be more.
I got stronger, though. And then months became years. And here I am. A GOD. Just like you.
Because you're quit.
That's cool. Thanks for sharing.
Hope those with the 5 hours/days/weeks even pay attention to your post Dean. Hope they look and feel what emotion is felt after 5 years of freedom. Hope they realize this as an example of what can be accomplished when someone sticks around.
well done my friend.
Congrats on the five years and thanks for letting your knowledge and experience trickle down to the rest of us.
Nice.
Thanks and congrats!
This is good stuff.
Congrats on 5 yrs... Great stuff.
'BanDog'
Good shit! thanks for the motivation!
Congrats and thanks! It means a lot to hear from you.
Congrats on 5 years. I will never forget in my early quit when I was holding on by a thread, you pm'd me and told me to post roll. If I didn't you were gonna squat over me and drop a deuce. You can't BUY that kind of encouragement. LOL.
Dean, you know I am a fan, every few months i make sure to bring your thread up, so the newbs can learn how to quit while laughing so hard you cant take a breath. On shit days I would read your thread, feel your pain and relate. Thanks for being a epic quitter. Thanks for inspiring me and making me want those plus one's.
Now if i can just get my next door neighbor to dream of my golden showers.
I quit with you.
LMAO! I just spent over an hour reading your Intro thread. Lots of wisdom entertainment in there!
Congrats on 5 yrs!
Congrats on 5 years! Quit with you today!
5 years!!!!! Congrats
Well done 'oh yeah'
-
Congrats on 5 years, Dean!
I miss our late night chats. In a manly type way of course.
With luv,
RT
-
Great thread--- and CONGRATS on 2000 days- double comma! Humor, leadership, and no vitreolic rants, just hard quitting. Thanks! Newbies give it a read for some laughs, learning, inspiration, and a break from all the gorilla chest thumping in these halls lately.
-
Great thread--- and CONGRATS on 2000 days- double comma! Humor, leadership, and no vitreolic rants, just hard quitting. Thanks! Newbies give it a read for some laughs, learning, inspiration, and a break from all the gorilla chest thumping in these halls lately.
Well Done Sir!!!
-
Great thread--- and CONGRATS on 2000 days- double comma! Humor, leadership, and no vitreolic rants, just hard quitting. Thanks! Newbies give it a read for some laughs, learning, inspiration, and a break from all the gorilla chest thumping in these halls lately.
Well Done Sir!!!
Dean, you are a huge part of my Quit.
Awesome job bro.
-
Double Comma
The last time I logged into KTC (before today), I was on Day 1,9XX. I was like, "Cool...almost 2,000. I should think of something profound to say and share it with my comrades."
It's Day 2,016 now. I totally missed 2,000. I missed the venerable double comma.
But you know what? Therein lies the profound thing that I can say: At this stage of my quit, 30 or 40 days just cruise by. BAM another day week month. BAM another year.
Contrast that with the average 30-day span in 2009 or 2010: It took all the strength I could muster, on a daily basis, to not start slashing at my own sac in a fit of straight-up jonesing.
I mean, wow...holy shit...this is freedom, man! Today, I would never, ever hurt my balls! Today, I just bend right down and give my balls sweet little licks!
- -
There's a lot of freedom in staying the course and fighting hard for a while - none of which is to say that, today, I do not take my quit seriously, or that I take it for granted. My quit pretty much defines me. I protect it. No surrender. To cave would make me a zero.
It's not to say that the addiction disappears, either. It finds me. Even in my dreams.
But I am vastly more powerful than this addiction. I guess that's about the only thing that this double comma shows. Selah.
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Double Comma
The last time I logged into KTC (before today), I was on Day 1,9XX. I was like, "Cool...almost 2,000. I should think of something profound to say and share it with my comrades."
It's Day 2,016 now. I totally missed 2,000. I missed the venerable double comma.
But you know what? Therein lies the profound thing that I can say: At this stage of my quit, 30 or 40 days just cruise by. BAM another day week month. BAM another year.
Contrast that with the average 30-day span in 2009 or 2010: It took all the strength I could muster, on a daily basis, to not start slashing at my own sac in a fit of straight-up jonesing.
I mean, wow...holy shit...this is freedom, man! Today, I would never, ever hurt my balls! Today, I just bend right down and give my balls sweet little licks!
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There's a lot of freedom in staying the course and fighting hard for a while - none of which is to say that, today, I do not take my quit seriously, or that I take it for granted. My quit pretty much defines me. I protect it. No surrender. To cave would make me a zero.
It's not to say that the addiction disappears, either. It finds me. Even in my dreams.
But I am vastly more powerful than this addiction. I guess that's about the only thing that this double comma shows. Selah.
This is good stuff right here boys n girls.
Soak it up.
Congrats Dean!
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Bumping this awesomeness...
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One of the best threads to read ...
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One of the best threads to read ...
I love those that blazed the trail to freedom before me.
All I can say is thank you for demonstrating the quitting is possible.
Thanks for your post and I war every today to beat nicotine!
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Dean the Cunt is coming back full-time...right?!
Please, for the sake of all that is sacred and, thus, fair game, let it be so.
Mayhem will continue to hold his reserved seat in the stripper mobile.
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Day 2,174
The most last effect of quitting - aside from the eternal boner I have from spin-kicking the Nic Bitch - are the cave dreams. They come relatively often, and the general theme of them is always the same: I come to KTC and post my number. Two-thousand something.
But I'm lying to myself. And I'm lying to all of you. I've caved. I'm trying to post and play it off.
(Because, seriously: Who would believe that a quit god such as myself would cave? I could totally cave and post Day 2,174 and get away with it.)
What's weird about these dreams is that I don't actually post. I don't converse with anyone, and I don't get called out on it. I don't even know if I'm actually at a computer. It's just a *feeling*.
A supremely WRETCHED feeling.
I've talked about cave dreams before. How I love them so much. And I do. Man, waking up and knowing I'm STILL 100002346239875% clean from tobacco and nicotine is bliss.
I get to come here and post Day 2,174 and MEAN it. I am you, and you are me. We are all one more day beyond this shit, but always one bad decision away from feeling wretched.
Damn it feels good to be a gangster
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Day 2,174
The most last effect of quitting - aside from the eternal boner I have from spin-kicking the Nic Bitch - are the cave dreams. They come relatively often, and the general theme of them is always the same: I come to KTC and post my number. Two-thousand something.
But I'm lying to myself. And I'm lying to all of you. I've caved. I'm trying to post and play it off.
(Because, seriously: Who would believe that a quit god such as myself would cave? I could totally cave and post Day 2,174 and get away with it.)
What's weird about these dreams is that I don't actually post. I don't converse with anyone, and I don't get called out on it. I don't even know if I'm actually at a computer. It's just a *feeling*.
A supremely WRETCHED feeling.
I've talked about cave dreams before. How I love them so much. And I do. Man, waking up and knowing I'm STILL 100002346239875% clean from tobacco and nicotine is bliss.
I get to come here and post Day 2,174 and MEAN it. I am you, and you are me. We are all one more day beyond this shit, but always one bad decision away from feeling wretched.
Damn it feels good to be a gangster
'oh yeah'
Damn good to see a dean post. Give it a wave for the neighbor lady from me.
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Day 2,174
The most last effect of quitting - aside from the eternal boner I have from spin-kicking the Nic Bitch - are the cave dreams. They come relatively often, and the general theme of them is always the same: I come to KTC and post my number. Two-thousand something.
But I'm lying to myself. And I'm lying to all of you. I've caved. I'm trying to post and play it off.
(Because, seriously: Who would believe that a quit god such as myself would cave? I could totally cave and post Day 2,174 and get away with it.)
What's weird about these dreams is that I don't actually post. I don't converse with anyone, and I don't get called out on it. I don't even know if I'm actually at a computer. It's just a *feeling*.
A supremely WRETCHED feeling.
I've talked about cave dreams before. How I love them so much. And I do. Man, waking up and knowing I'm STILL 100002346239875% clean from tobacco and nicotine is bliss.
I get to come here and post Day 2,174 and MEAN it. I am you, and you are me. We are all one more day beyond this shit, but always one bad decision away from feeling wretched.
Damn it feels good to be a gangster
'oh yeah'
Damn good to see a dean post. Give it a wave for the neighbor lady from me.
Noobs... Read all of this intro.
It's money.
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Day 2,174
The most last effect of quitting - aside from the eternal boner I have from spin-kicking the Nic Bitch - are the cave dreams. They come relatively often, and the general theme of them is always the same: I come to KTC and post my number. Two-thousand something.
But I'm lying to myself. And I'm lying to all of you. I've caved. I'm trying to post and play it off.
(Because, seriously: Who would believe that a quit god such as myself would cave? I could totally cave and post Day 2,174 and get away with it.)
What's weird about these dreams is that I don't actually post. I don't converse with anyone, and I don't get called out on it. I don't even know if I'm actually at a computer. It's just a *feeling*.
A supremely WRETCHED feeling.
I've talked about cave dreams before. How I love them so much. And I do. Man, waking up and knowing I'm STILL 100002346239875% clean from tobacco and nicotine is bliss.
I get to come here and post Day 2,174 and MEAN it. I am you, and you are me. We are all one more day beyond this shit, but always one bad decision away from feeling wretched.
Damn it feels good to be a gangster
'oh yeah'
Damn good to see a dean post. Give it a wave for the neighbor lady from me.
Noobs... Read all of this intro.
It's money.
AJ is right, I am a Dean fan and I have been forever. There is quit gold and comedy gold as well. I quit with you Dean.
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Thanks, fellas. Blood in, blood out.
Anyone ever shit their pants at work and had to get more or less completely undressed to clean up?
No, God no...me neither...I mean, what am I? A Yetti?
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Thanks, fellas. Blood in, blood out.
Anyone ever shit their pants at work and had to get more or less completely undressed to clean up?
No, God no...me neither...I mean, what am I? A Yetti?
Just be glad you never shit yourself so bad that some of it got into your shoe... There's no going back to work after you shit your shoes, or so I've been told...
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Thanks, fellas. Blood in, blood out.
Anyone ever shit their pants at work and had to get more or less completely undressed to clean up?
No, God no...me neither...I mean, what am I? A Yetti?
Just be glad you never shit yourself so bad that some of it got into your shoe... There's no going back to work after you shit your shoes, or so I've been told...
ECD quietly raises hand. I have run a pair of underwear out to the dumpster. Its all about learning lessons though.
ECD's Rules of the Road
1-Never pass up a chance to take a piss
2-Never trust a fart
3-Never waste a hard on
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Bumping this because hard-ons.