I was rather taken aback yesterday when a few of the visitors to my blog suggested that my images were cute and made people feel good.
This is something that I found a little perplexing.
Consequently I've created a series of slightly distasteful images in the hope of combating this perception.
The first in the series is of a boss who has forced the errand boy to give him a blowie.
At the moment of ejaculation, the bosses wife has walked in.
Whoops! 
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Red Hot Jism
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24 comments:
oh don't be ashamed. I didn't mean hallmark cute, teddy bear cute or anything like that.
hum...
I don't have enough vocabulary to define it then. Amusing-cute?Brilliant cute? ...
and be warned, I might find these "distateful images" even more adorable heheh.
(if it reassures you, I find ted plympton and robert crumb cute)
LOL
and the bigger one:"come on kid I ain't got all night"
but still, the look on the tiny one's face is a look of agony, and gurgling isn't that painful normally.
so "where did pinky the hamster go? have you seen him kid? hey answer me when I ask you a question.
-Mmhbhh
-What
-Mmhhhbbhhb...mbhh
-Didn't I already tell you to speak clearly and a-rti-cu-late? What is that thing in your pouth anyway"
or "what's the matter kid, did you rip your gums with some sharp M&Ms bits?
-[restraining sobs]"
(mouth, not pouth, sorry)
lol
poor elliott
his blog has become kindergarden for sar and leeloreya who joke and laugh and suck their thumbs.
LOL you must've been a real babbler
I used (sometimes still do) pick the skin off my dried lips in winter. Sometimes I even stop walking because I'm so concentrated.
I think Elliot is off to bed no? I mean what time it's midnight in australia, it's written here in the commenting space.
Let's go and hammer on his door heheheheh.
uh no i didn't know, but now that you've told me, i'll go to bed less dumb.
So, who what when where why?
i stop so that i focus entirely on the lip and it's so thin that it's really hard to rip it off but i want it to bleed so bad...
my parents sum up my first five years as: sleeping, crying, eating, sleeping, crying, eating... which is bliss compared to my brother who explored everything like some urban miniature indiana jones. He climbed on the window once, just to see what was behind that open thing in the apartment. Luckily, my mom came in before he tried to act like minisuperman from the third floor...
so how was it at dinner table
"Sar, 8PM, weather forecast"?
what flew over your head? the dinner platter? did the monkey throw it at you because the peanuts were too salty?
oh alright, now not only have you enlightened me but made me mad mad jealous because most of the blogs I read are from UK, US and other english speaking countries and I'm stuck here in bloody France until september which is just looovely. Anyway, I don't know whordwhiz, but I see what you mean, people find a community in which they fit. Tell me, are you going?
funny you ask me about s&m because those letters are the initials to my real name. No i'm not the whip/leather/handcuffs thing but pain is always something that increases pleasure.
and yeah, I became look at me later on, but more like "don't look at me because I know you will" kind heheheheh.
oh careful with the kewl, elliott might wake up sweating and furious.
"i heard the K .... I heard the K...wikkid.....kewl...mommy"
what happens when september comes? that sounds veery sombre and menacing y'know.
like that green day song
"wake me up...when september comes"
well, september is me walking on waters to the United Kingdom (whoa how grandiose), ending 13 years of enjoyable but tiring french life.
tadaa!
"certain circumstances" eh?
do you remember in harry met sally, she always she, utterly shocked "i'm not gonna tellyou that!" and he says "suit yourself" and she always ends up telling . So, just so you know, I am so not curious to know what those circumstances are, I mean really, why should I be? I SO DON'T Care!!
what like on richter scale curious?
"Ah so you're going to the UK for university or just moving countries? "
when I read that the first thing that came to mind was me and my mighty biceps moving the continents like pieces of a puzzle.
Then a Hulk/Atlas cry, hiting chest and all..
yeah I'm going to university, since I skipped this year already, I just loathed french system so much.
you got my email right?
alright,
[bubble bubble bubble
boil boil boil
BOIL BOIL BOIL]
that's a pot of boiling water, symbolizing my increasing curiosity
no i was thinking about you sending me an explanation later, y'know after spending hours medidating on your couch and speaking to the CIA to check if I wasn't in the Most Wanted list.
oh exakatakally (now elliot is definitely waking up from his sleep in which he's imagining his distateful drawing of a cuckolded wife)!
Woul I go? to Vegas? Are you asking??? I spend entire afternoon in the travel section of the bookstore where they have really entertaining travel books so I sit back and spent hours on the east coast, yosemite then whoosh, california, then canada, then south of italy, then NZ...
Going to Vegas is like eating candy, I would love to, but I'd soon feel sick. Just a couple of days. Or, couple of hours more like.
to go to those inexpensive all you can eat buffets you have to stroll through the casino. everything is strategy for you to spend more.
And when there are no "conventions" of any kind, rooms in hotel can be like 10 times cheaper than usual because they also own the casino, the restaurant, everything.
But there's something in this extravagance that's touching. I dunno, the city in itself is like a vampire, it comes alive at night.
it's a myth, sort of.
yeah and you must be totally in pain by using your wrist on the money machines, and they even offer you champagne, knowing that it helps the customer to open his wallet..
and then, the gloom behind the glamour. depressing, hangover, you head back to you small civilized city on a monday morning.
it's an addiction, like anything. and in fact, it's sort of democratical also, anyone can win, there is proof of complete tramps winning fat sums and when the boss congratulates them and asks if there's something else he can offer, the guy says through the holes in his teeth "Ye-aw Ah Wouldn't m-ah-nd a burger and a beer!"
lol! because of the stress so they don't pee in their pants and don't have to go to the toilet so often (which results in them not using the machines, therefore the bosses losing money)?
very!
which leaves me wondering, how do people last four hours at the oscars? do they wait until the camera if off them to go pee or smoke or eat? I mean I can't last four hours without smoking or peeing. Do they put some diapers in those gift packages as well?
lol.
still, they could tell them.
"look honey, you're earning about $100 000 per film minimum, you got this $3000 worth gift package, i worked my ass for weeks just so that anyone in Oklahoma or Timbuktu can see your smile LIVE wherever they are, so hold your stomach, take some nicotine gums and STAY IN YOUR GODDAMN CHAIR"
that's what my profile is aaall about.
Lethal dictator at MGM or greedy opportunist at Miramax.
or an agent, just to befriend famous egomaniacs and watch them snooze and poo and be tired then defend them against the press as if I were their mother
you know
you could be a mouth model.
like some people are hand models for watches and and?
you could be advertising lipsticks, get a lutta money and still reamin comfortably anonymous
is it an (spooky hand movement) ILLUSION?
Would you two please get a room????
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