The latest chapter in my unauthorized autobiography.
My cat Toby was lying all snuggy next to me when he started to make that gagging urpey sound so familiar to cat owners everywhere. "Don't you puke on me," I told him very sternly. So he got up and went down the bed to puke on my foot, which was a compromise, I guess. I guess? Anyway, as I was cleaning everything up, the whole sorry fiasco led to me singing "Don't puke on me Argentina. . . ." which I thought was funny, but not funny enough to make up for cat puke on my foot.
You may be surprised to learn that my name is not actually peenee, but these days, my government name pretty much only gets used on the address of all the junk mail I receive. Indeed, the gang of miscreants I hang out with over on Chaturbate only call me peenee. Anymore thinking about the name my mother bestowed on me in a fit of whimsy seems quaint and removed from me and I sort of think myself actually as peenee.
And speaking of Chaturbate (all the hip kids shorten that to simply CB,) my dear CB buddy Brainiac and I were recently discussing our experiences with ketamine therapy. It's nice to have someone to talk to about this who understands the indescribable experience of the Sacred K Hole. Friends with whom I have try to share these trippy details have one and all obviously decided I am simply a crazy old man. And I am, but I'm also right about how profound ketamine can be.
Artist's recreation of mrpeenee confronting the drug goblin urging special k on him.
Anyway. Cats and drugs and Chaturbate chums, it's a sweet life. You know what would make it sweeter? More naked guys:
Let us all pause to remember the boys of summer and their butt-pussies.
I understand in less fortunate parts of the world, it is already snowing. Eeks.
I am staunchily opposed to snow in all its many icky forms.
I was 18 years old before I ever actually saw snow in person and that was OK with me.
The boys at CB all think I am afraid of snow. That is obviously bullshit; I am simply deeply suspicious of it
I once asked a friend from Chicago what sleet was, since I had only ever read the word. For a moment, I thought she was going to smack me.
Let us not think of snow, but instead focus on Mike Betts' lovely, lovely buttchops.
You are right to be deeply suspicious of snow, peenee. When not lashing you in the face and freezing your extremities (those poor naked boys wouldn't stand a chance!), it covers all manner of unsavoury & unwanted items in a deceptively beautiful blanket of white - pot holes, dog shit, deep puddles, brambles, super-slick ice etc. It also encourages children, and couples still in the early throws of romance. Bah!
ReplyDeleteIt is one of the main reasons why I pay so much to live in California.
DeleteI prefer naked men to cat sick or snow, to be honest.
ReplyDeleteEspecially #2. Jx
He looks like a sweet, simple lad.
DeleteI have a theory that if a Nancy comic strip is ever funny that’s the day the world would come to an end.
ReplyDeleteI like the artist's style, but yeah, the humor is pretty muted.
DeleteI just hope you have a PEENEE vanity plate on your automobile.
ReplyDeletepeenee says "beepbeep"
DeleteNow that I think of it, there are lots of show tunes you can modify to be about puke: "Little Shop of Vomit," "You Can't Stop the Puke," "Phantom of the Barf Bag," ad nauseum.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous, too
"...ad nauseum..." I see what you did there.
Delete