I read somewhere that the more orgasms you have the longer you live.
Thus I am typing this post with only one hand.
Faggot
A faggot is a bundle of sticks used for kindling a fire. They were thin, dry sticks which were bundled for easier carrying and were thrown on a fire whole where they burned quickly and easily, being thin and dry.
During the Middle Ages, witches were burned at the stake. Joan of Arc was one. Essentially, the definition of a witch was any strong, independent, or troublesome woman. To get rid of her, they called her a witch, tied her to a wooden pole, threw faggots around her feet, and burned her alive.
High five, Christianity!
Homosexuals were also burned alive back in the Middle Ages. They were considered the lowest of the low, lower even than a strong, independent, or troublesome woman. Tying them to a pole and allowing them to die on their feet was too good for them. So to burn them alive, they just tossed them onto a pile of burning faggots.
And now you know what you’re really saying the next time you use that word.
Books?
More sent out today.
I decided I was sending out a book to everyone who put their address in my askbox that one day (as per this post), so I’ll get to you eventually if I haven’t already. The response was quite surprising.
I have two answers for you after you are done reading it:
- Yes, I have had therapy
- No, it didn’t work
I got an anon loose in my ask box accusing me of having a Tumblr just to hook up with babes.
I actually do follow a lot of cool dudes. Thoughtful, intelligent, witty, creative dudes.
But, yeah, I’m doing this to get laid. Like you’re all gonna come to the middle of nowhere and pork me.
(PLEEEASE).
I do follow both a metric and standard shitload of scrumptious females and I would bang every last one of them who are 18 and up (and wait patiently for the rest to turn 18—12:01 am and it’s party time!), but it just isn’t feasible from a logistics standpoint.
Sorry, anon. I’m not in this for sex. I’m in it for adulation.
Whenever someone posts a list of blogs they like or recommend and I’m not on it
I think “Hey, that’s incomplete.”
Books sent out Saturday & more today.
I decided I want to get to everyone who wrote in my Ask Box, not just a few. I will have to stagger it a little, though :)
I wish I could connect better with people.
I’m horrible at it. Horrible. I pretty much never return emails and maintaining a chat either via text or online is just…exhausting to me.
Shit, if you’re worried about me stalking you, don’t. I barely have the energy to talk to you, let alone stalk you.
Sometimes, I chalk it up to being older and having been through many disappointing or nowhere relationships, but really I’m probably just a distant and stand-offish asshole.
I get gregarious now and again, usually under alcohol, but what does it mean? Maybe I’m too analytical. Maybe I’m too busy trying to figure out why I’m talking to you and why your talking to me to just, you know, fucking talk to you.
So I say nothing and remain either mysterious or a dick.
Or both.
A mysterious dick.
A Viking woman could divorce her husband for virtually any reason.
She did it in the following way:
She would summon her father—or, if her father had passed, brother, uncle, etc. Then she would summon her husband. The three of them would then go into the bedroom she shared with her husband. She would climb on the marriage bed, stand on it, and announce that the marriage was over. She would then pack her things and leave with the male relative.
Done deal.
Strange to think that we’ve only become as advanced as the Vikings in the last 40 years or so.
*note: I was unable to learn what became of the children. Presumably, they were roasted alive and eaten. After all, these were Vikings.
Speaking of bald, I saw this dude in the store the other day with a toupee on that was so obvious it may as well have had a chin strap.
It wasn’t even the same color as his real hair poking out from under it. They were similar colors, but not the same. And it was ridiculously full. Thick, bushy hair looks odd on an old man. Look at some of these geriatric metal heads. I mean, my god.
I’m having an In The Body experience.
It’s like I’m trapped inside my skin and can’t get the fuck out and float around the room.
What a pisser.
You know what fucking bugs the shit out of me?
Nothing, really. I’m pretty laid back.
