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It's that time of the year again, Your need to ask this question: Are you a realcowboy?

In a Chicago hospital, a gentleman had made several attempts to get into the men's restroom, but it had always been occupied. A nurse noticed his predicament. Sir, she said "You may use the ladies room if you promise not to touch any of the buttons on the wall." He did what he needed to, and as he sat there he noticed the buttons he had promised not to touch. Each button was identified by letters: WW, WA, PP, and a red one labeled ATR. Who would know if he touched them? He couldn't resist.. He pushed WW. warm water was sprayed gently upon his bottom. What a nice feeling, he thought. Men restrooms don't have nice things like this. Anticipating greater pleasure, he pushed the WA button. Warm air replaced the warm water, gently drying his underside. When this stopped, he pushed the PP button. A large powder puff caressed his bottom adding a fragile scent of spring flower to this unbelievable pleasure.. The ladies restroom was more than a restroom, it is tender loving pleasure. When the powder puff completed its pleasure, he couldn't wait to push the ATR button which he knew would be supreme ecstasy. Next thing he knew he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed, and a nurse was staring down at him. "What happened?" he exclaimed. The last thing I remember was pushing the ATR button. "The button ATR is an Automatic Tampon Remover. Your penis is under your pillow." We couldn't find your goolies and have put out a reward for their return.

A MALE FAIRY TALE Once upon a time, a Prince asked a beautiful Princess, "Will you marry me?" The Princess immediately said, "No!" And the Prince lived happily ever after, and rode motorcycles and dated thin, long-legged, full-breasted women, and hunted and fished and raced cars, and went to titty bars and dated ladies half his age and drank whiskey, beer, and Captain Morgan, and never heard bitching and never paid child support or alimony, and dated cheerleaders and kept his house and guns, and ate spam and potato chips and beans, and blew enormous farts, and never got cheated on while he was at work, and all his friends and family thought he was friggin' cool as hell, and he had tons of money in the bank, and left the toilet seat up. The End.

I was chattering on twitter this morning about literary tattoos when an idea struck me. I love literature and I love sex and the human body and seek any way that I can find to bring them together. The conversation steered towards Tolkien. I love Lord of the Rings. I love Tolkien really, the linguist, the creator of worlds. The literary escape that even the span of generations here has enjoyed. And then it hit me! The perfect tattoo with the perfect placement. Right above my womanhood. If you know Tolkien you should get this without thinking too hard about it. For those less familiar it happened in Fellowship of the Ring after the Fellowship had formed. The humor of it is more fun when you don't give away the punchline right away.

A couple on an African safari spot an antelope being chased by a cheetah. She: Poor antelope. He: Why? She: It's dinner. If it gets away from that cheetah I give you a blow job every morning for the rest of your life. - the rest is history https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xCM5v2FHSAI

... taste the bush?

This video details how to write a hooker's resume. Enjoy

The miller moths are driving my cat (11 months old) CRAZY! She's bouncing off the walls, knocking stuff over, & landing on me w/claws. Just a little something to brighten your day