Friday's Fetish Foto Froo Froo

Today we will examine the art of Fetish Photography! If I knew anything about photography, I'd certainly give you my thoughts on these pics but all I know is that what I like is what I like.
I'm including links to the sites where I lifted these pics in hopes that will negate any thoughts of copyright infringement action. I don't know the models' names but the links are the names of the photographers.

Enjoy!

Aisha Roper has a fantastic eye (probably 2 fantastic eyes) and the rest of her ain't bad either! I love this woman in a way that could very well find me with a restraining order in my mailbox.

Chantal Manard. I've used her pictures here before and now I'm finally giving credit where credit is due. Viva les Chantal Manard!

Here's one for the heterosexul, female readers and my homosexual male friends. I don't know much about the photographer other than his/her name is Carey.

Good God, this guy is excellent! Perry Gallagher is his name and please go. He has a gallery so extensive it took me 45 minutes to find this one after enjoying about 100 others.

Here's my newest friend whom I link in my links section over on the right there. His name is B. Jonathan Michaels and he lives in a wonderful city called Saskatoon that can have some of the coldest weather ever, yet he's single handedly bringing heat to the town.

Well, it seems blogger won't let you add too many pics. Pfft.

Please enjoy these ones and please, please go to the websites and check these fine artistes out. If you can afford it, please buy something from them. Art is wonderful but sorely missed when the artist dies of starvation.

K, have a good weekend and bye for now!

Red Hat Society: Harmless Fun or Evil Incarnate?

Last night I did my first stand up comedy in nearly 4 months and I'd love to be self depricating and modest but I must admit that I did well. Was it the beer? Was it the decent, receptive crowd? Was it the material suggestions that my friend Cory gave me? Yes, yes, and yes.

There was a weird thing, though. There were about 6 or 7 post-menopausal (sp?) women sitting in one row, and they all had funky red hats on. Someone had mentioned that they were part of a group called "The Red Hat Society." I know nothing about it and I will Google it as soon as I'm done this entry. The reason I'm not doing the research first is because I have several theories as to what this group is about and I don't want to taint my hypothoses.

Red Hat Society
- An organized group of wives of high level businessmen who are actually the ones pulling the strings of their puppet husbands. They control content of women's magazines such as "O", Better Homes & Gardens, and Popular Mechanics.

- Women who have mastered 'dark arts' such as alchemy and astral travel. They have discovered a way to write their names in snow (while urinating) using cursive writing; a secret they refuse to divulge to lesser, non initiated women.

- A vigilante justice organization that uses shame, guilt, and purse hitting as their primary weapons against street criminals.

- Carrot Top Fan Club members

- Cyborgs with a collective concious they use to create the best...Jam...ever!

- Cult members out celebrating one last hoorah before Kool-Aid Day.

K, I'm gonna go look 'em up. Bye for now.

*Note: I just looked up Red Hat Society and I gotta tell ya, they seem like the sweetest group of ladies ever! I was way off in my theories. If there is a Red Hat Society lady that accidentally finds her way here, would you care to adopt a fastly approaching middle age, slightly overweight, married guy? I'll do chores and I will sexually please each and every one of you!

Red Hat Society's Official Website

Good things come in 3s!

My kids are so awesome, it makes me tingle! I get home from work yesterday (my 38th birthday) and found out they left the house and went to the mall. I was about to give 'em shit because they're not suppose to do that, the mall is a dangerous place, but they went on to tell me that the reason they went was because they wanted to buy me a present with their own money! How do you give 'em shit for that, eh?

But guess what they bought me? They bought me Gene Simmons from Kiss! But not just one doll. Not two dolls, but three of them! I have 3 Gene Simmons dolls in different poses from different times in Kisstory.

It was so cute because I lost my hard core Kiss fanaticism years ago and I really don't think my life would be less great if I didn't have these dolls in my possession. But they've heard my stories of my air guitar concerts, my bedroom walls with nothing but Kiss posters on 'em, and my application and subsequent acceptance into the Kiss Army (I was a field medic).

So yeah, it was cute and silly and totally loveable! I can't wait 'til Christmas when I open up the econo box of tampons they get me.

K, bye for now.

38 years old and never kissed a girl

Happy birthday to me.

Things I haven't done in my life that I wish I had by now:

Getting Hilary Clinton to fullfill my bondage fantasy

Running through a field of daisies with gentle, sweet music in the background, and my arms open to embrace...Godzilla. Then we'd fight to the death.

Tango-ing with Kathy Bates (I'd like to see if I'm strong enough for "the dip")

Drinking with Frankie Venom, Joey Shithead, Mickey DeSadist, Richard Hell, Johnny Rotten (actually forget Johnny Rotten, he'd just bring us all down), Captain Sensible, The Dayglo Abortions and Tipper Gore all at the same time.

Taking a slinky to a 12-Step meeting and saying, "Allright, let's get drunk and do this!"

Learning to spell cimonim/cinnommonnn/sinomum...the spice.

Write a "chick flick" with Andrew Dice Clay as the star.

Widdle a chunk of wood on my front porch and sing spirituals


Yeah, so that's about it really. Other than that my life is complete.

K, bye for now

For those about to rock...

In December '05 I commited to a 1 year hiatus from Stand-up comedy but I figued I would go back and do amateur nights every once in awhile just for the heck of it. Well, I think I'm on this week (I'm not totally sure, someone wanna lemme know?) and I tell ya, I'm nervous.

I'm not nervous to go on a stage, but I'm nervous about the new material I wrote for it. It seems to me like it's chok full of over used premises, wacky faces, and bad impressions. Okay, maybe not the wacky faces or impressions, but the premise thing has got me scared.

So this is my challenge to you, my 5 readers: post as many subjects on jokes you want in the comment column but they cannot be about anything you've ever heard a stand up comic do before. It doesn't matter if you've never seen live comedy before, I'll decide later if it won't work for me.

I know, you're thinking that I should be able to do it myself. Melba toast has never been done before so do melba toast." Well, I admit that I often get inspiration from the strangeness of others, so if you want, go for it! I'm all about taking chances, so make me take a chance!

And remember that others who leave a comment without the same knowledge as you are okay in my books and let's not turn this into a slagfest please. Everyone is welcome to post whatever subjects they want (hell, include an original joke and I'll try it out for ya- I'm not that proud!)

So let's get on with this experiment and see what happens!!

I'll post on Thursday and let ya know how it went!

Thanks,

Mr. Winkie

Feet & Food Freaky Friday Fetish Foto

Anyone hungry?

Have a good weekend nutjobs!

Mr. Winkie

Doug Stanhope for President! (And Frankie Venom for Prime Minister!)

I apologize to my well wishers who wished me well in my non smoking adventure. It was a failure and I feel like an absolute knob. I shouldn't beat myself up, I know, but that's what smoking does to you - it makes you feel shitty when you're not smoking and even shittier when you are smoking. Fucking stupid things.

But that doesn't mean I have given up! I'm trying a different approach. I don't want to give too much away but let's just say it involves the sacrifice of a live chicken every other day. I do promise this to you, my friends and family - I will have it beat before long. I'm gonna keep trying and maybe the time will come when the shame of failure is so great that I never want to feel it again. I wasn't even gonna mention it but I recieved two pieces of correspondi today that made me regret posting that I was gonna try and quit (you both know who you are).

But anyway, we'll give it another go next Wednesday, how's that? Why next wedenseday, you ask? That's my birthday and maybe considering it as a present to myself might work some kind of voodoo charm or something.

Head hung low,

Mr. Winkie

Doug Stanhope For President!!!

Until the American elections or until I get bored of doing it, the headline for every blog entry will be "Doug Stanhope For President!" He claims to be running for president in '08 as an independent and God help ya if he wins (seriously, God will help him far more than that shit-fer-brains ya got now). And suddenly, the world will be at peace and you can guarentee that at minumum, weed will be legalized.

Go Doug, go!

And, in other news...

It maybe just for today or it may last a couple of days, but I'm gonna spend some time wallowing in self pitty, sleeping, and/or generally not being creative. As a result, this blog thing will suffer.

I mean, it's not like it's gold everytime anyway. I struck gold with 2 maybe 3 entries but the rest haven't been gold, they've been more like potassium permanganate (that's the substance they add to Armor All to give it it's distinctive scent).

I wish I could write gold everytime, then I could write for a top notch sitcom (actually, is thee such a thing anymore?). As it is right now, I'd be lucky to get a gig writing for "World's Wildest Police Chases." Here's a sample:

"Our next criminal thought that driving the wrong way down a divided highway was a good idea... until the cops spotted him, that is!
He crashes into a highway divider and his loot of stolen Speak & Spells spills on the road, spelling out disaster for innocent passersby. The cops arrest him for bad grammer and grand theft auto.
Here's one criminal who will learn how to spell 'jailhouse ass rape' before he's ellegible for parole!"

I only wish Kate & Ashley Olsen were six and making those shitty straight to video things they made when they were six. Here's a sample of something I was commissioned to do years ago but my agent forgot to forward it. It's called "K-K-K-IDS!!!"

KATE: Ar ooo a Jew, Ashwey?

ASHLEY: No way, Jose!

KATE: Ar ooo a dorkie darkie, Ashwey?

ASHLEY: No way, Jose!

KATE: Are ooo da Imperwial Wizzad, Ashwey?

ASHLEY: (gives a "2 thumbs up" sign) Oooo got it Pontiac!

(The girls break into a dance)

END


BTW, I don't agree with what I wrote - I was commissioned to do it and I'm a big whore.

So don't be suprised if I miss an entry here and there over the next week or two. I apologize in advance.

K, bye for now.

So how do you feel, asswipe?

Hello mine friends,

Okay it's Monday and DAY 1 of me not smoking. The first day of not smoking is not that bad. The light headedness is not without a certain charm and it's still a novelty.

I read a blog sometime last week ( I Must Be Nuts ) by a guy who is trying to quit smoking and he seemed so sincere that I figured I'd give it another go after I had a weekend of debauchery, which consisted of attending my 2 yr. old niece's birthday, and a hockey game.

K, I'm feeling quite anxious as I write this. I just want to crawl into bed and go to sleep. I need a snack.

I

am

discombobulated.


Charm has worn off.

Bye kids.

Freaky Friday...yeah whatever.

You may or may not know that I have an extreme appreciation for beauty originating from India. It started years ago when I first learned my current trade of "film projectionist" at a movie house that showed Art Films during the week and Hindi films on weekends.

The actresses that filled the screen were nothing short of stunning to me and while it may not be all that "freaky" to you, it is to me. I get extremely intense feelings of lust everytime I watch a Hindi movie (and I watch alot of them as part of my job). Maybe it's that exotic, forbidden fruit thing. I say that because marrying or otherwise "carrying on" with members outside the Indian culture is extremely frowned upon (I guess it's that way in alot of cultures).

And what's kinda weird about the culture is that here are the folks that wrote the definitive book on fucking - The Kama Sutra, and their movies are very sexy but there's no nudity and it's even rare to see a kiss that goes futher than a peck on the cheek. Everything to do with sex in Hindi films is hinted at through dance and song.

But anyway, here are a few pics of some East Indian actresses. I can write their names down but I find it hard to spell English names correctly, let alone exotic Indian names.















Oh, and a side note - I believe India is the origin of the most Miss Universe winners. I think many of you will agree why.

K, Chukria (that means thank you in Hindi but I doubt the spelling is correct)

More Hindi Goddesses!

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!


K, bye for now!

Just What Everyone Wants - A Poetry Blog

Earth to Thought

Earth to thought
please come in
I'd like to know
where you been
As elusive as
snow in June
Must be on the dark side
of the moon

Earth to thought
all systems failed
Protective tiles
fell off your tail
You been gone
for a millenium
"Ahh, Houston?
We have a problem."

Has Astral travel made you sick
Or have you been sucked into a black hole
Are you a victim of Newtonian physic
Oh thought I miss you soooo!

Earth to thought
say hi to Major Tom
You use to hang with me
Now you're gone

I need you but you don't seem to
need me
I guess you burnt up
on re-entry

For My Illuminati Brethren

As we all know, He has come!

Those of you who know the secret to decoding what's below, I ask this of thee:

At 0300hrs on the 17th day of the 3rd month in the 2006th year of our Lord, recite this poem so that our one voice can help He who is in Darkness shine light on us all once again!

Now decode the blank space and blankness will be ours no more.

Oh! Ohhhh
I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure
And I just cant wait till the day when you knock on my door
Now everytime I go for the mailbox , gotta hold myself down
Cos I just wait till you write me your coming around
I'm walking on sunshine , wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
and don't it feel good!!
Hey , alright now
and dont it feel good!!hey

yeh I used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that its true
and I don't want to spend all my life , just in waiting for you
now I don't want u back for the weekendnot back for a day , no no no
I said baby I just want you back and I want you to stay
woah yeh!
I'm walking on sunshine , wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
and don't it feel good!! Hey , alright now
and don't it feel good!!hey yeh ,oh yeh
and don't it feel good!!
walking on sunshine
walking on sunshine
I feel the love,
I feel the love,
I feel the love that's really real
I feel the love, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real
I'm on sunshine baby oh
I'm on sunshine baby oh
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
and don't it feel good!!
I'll say it again nowand don't it feel good!!

Go in peace, my children for our day is upon us!

Ich Bin Ein Uber Dork

I'm at Tim Horton's (for my American cousins, it's amazingly delicious coffee served by amazingly inefficient people), and I'm standing in line behind two city workers who are wearing identical cover-alls, both with big yellow, reflective 'X's on the backs of them. Two tills open at the same time with one till in between the two X men. Standing at the till between them is a guy with some circular symbol on the back of his jacket. Behind me is a mom and a kid who appears to be about 10. So I look at the till then back at the kid. I say to the kid, "Hey buddy, it's your turn." The kid looks at me confused, and I say "for tic-tac-toe. It's your turn. You're 'o' so go."

This was my way of having fun and I thought the kid would get a giggle out of it. But the kid took me very seriously and went to the guy on the left, crouched down and made an "o" with his arms. Just after he said "Okay, it's your turn now," the guy with an "X' on his back turned and tripped over the little kid, causing him to cry.

I felt like such an idiot. The Mom shoved me aside, gathered her crying kid up, passed me with a huff and left without getting their coffee.

The whole experience made me think of when Kings would use slaves or servants to play Chess on a huge board out in the courtyard and sometimes when disputes were serious, the servants' or slave's lives were on the line.

So if you're out there, kid, I'm sorry you got hurt but guess what? I won by default!!! Loser!!

K, bye for now

P.S
This is unrelated but I just want to say that both Mac and PC computers are frigging useless. Linux people should just go to hell too, and while I'm at it, those dumb dumbs who use an abacass are retards. And microwave ovens? What are you an idiot?

Okay, now that that is done, I have to go check my 'hit counter'.

No Coffee Day

Yesterday I decided to cut back on coffee by cutting it out completely. The following are mistakes I made that I think are the direct result of my lack of caffiene:

My youngest son said 'good morning' to me, so I disconnected the mouse from the computer and threw it outside.

I watched back to back reruns of Saved By The Bell...and enjoyed it.

When I left for work, I put the car in reverse instead of drive. It seemed like more work to correct it than driving to work backwards so I drove to work backwards.

While waiting at a red light I saw a woman yawn and thought that it was how wide she opened her mouth that made her so damned attractive.

I cried in the car for no reason and had stomach cramps at the same time. I swore I was having my period.

I got an idea for a movie script so I jotted down notes, went to the bathroom, came back and re-read my notes and realized I was writing the plot for "Zorro -The Gay Blade."

So needless to say, I'm back on the Joe.

K, bye babe.

No Entry today

Hi everyone! I apologize for the lack of entry today but I got the call and I'm leaving in 1/2 hour to join my commrades in the French Foriegn Legion (the picture above is of our batallion and i'm the one with the beard). As a result, I don't have time for the fetish foto nor do I have time to create an entry. This may seem like an entry but it's not, trust me.

We're being sent to a brand spanking new country that popped up in Eastern Europe called Debbieharrystan to keep peace and help repopulate. I don't know much about the country, all our dossier says is that the new leader "Buk Ivan" wants to create a country that people can "live in peace and harmony but has an overall 'nightclub' feel to it" - whatever that means. I think we're also assisting the locals in putting disco balls on all the street lamps.

I know what you're thinking, "Monsieur Winkie, war torn countries are dangerous and we fear for your safety." It's okay, I'm scared too but I know we're gonna be allright because our commandant is none other than World Wrestling Entertainment's Batista.

If you've never seen him before, that's him to the right. He sure is a big SOB, eh? He also seems to be very popular with my commrades who don't have wives or girlfriends and like HGTV.

Okay, if all goes well, I should be back by late Sunday night and I will put up a blog entry on Monday morning. Again I apologize that there is no blog entry for today.


K, bye for now!

Nazis sure knew how to smoke.

I've been smoking cigarettes for far too long and I've seen alot of different styles of smoking, but no one smoked with as much flair as Nazis. I don't admire them at all but one must admit that their smoking style fit perfectly with that evil empire thing they had going for awhile. Of course, the Nazi's were generally anti-smoking but I only see the ones in movies, so that's where my conclusions come from.

They would put the cigarette between their pinky finger and...whatever the one next to it is called and move it up to their mouth very slowly, like they didn't need it. If you smoke, I suggest you light one up now, hold it like I described and say this in a high but calm voice: "Helllooo Herr Doctor. We've been expecting you," then with your lips pursed, smile with half your mouth, slowly raise the cigarrette up and take a puff. See? You look like a Nazi!


My friend Jason was a geeky guy who had a funny way of smoking. He'd put it between his fore finger and swearing finger like the average smoker, but he'd splay the rest of his fingers as wide apart as he could. He looked like Spock at a cocktail party (the alien, not the child psychologist).
Here's my impression of Spock at a cocktail party, after he's had a few: "Illogical, shmillogical, who does an alien have to blow to get another Manhatten around this place?!"


Truman Capote demonstrates the artsy way of smoking. You must have your smoking hand touching your head as often as possible for full effect. I've used this method at a wrap party for RENT and it makes you look like a genius. Mind you, I was at a wrap party for RENT.

~~~525 thousand, six hundred minutes. That's how long this play seems to last~~~

(sorry, everytime I refer to RENT, I have to sing that)


If you're a tough guy and you want to look macho, you simply make a fist but stick the knuckle of you fore-finger out as far as possible while holding the cig in there and make quick, definitive movements. Then say, "Fuckin' idiots poured the cement of the driveway, fucked off and now it's all cracked! I paid 900 buck for this? Fuckin retards," (make sure you don't pluralize the word "buck"). And if you can get to one, try this method at a wrap party for RENT.

Don't get me wrong, smoking is bad. Right kids? Right, so don't do it and stay in school too. Oh yeah, eat your vegetables as well and respect your parents. And ahh, ummm... consume, consume, consume.

K, bye 4 now.

My Love Blog Entry

At lunch time I open my blog to see if anyone's read it. Then, after the dissapointment goes away, I click on the "next blog" button up there and do some reading. I've noticed over the past couple days that a few blogs have popped up about couples in love and how much they love each other and their wedding plans and all the love they have for each other. After reading these, I realized that I only tell my wife I love her during climax and that I should say it more often. In an effort to correct that, I have created this love blog entry. You can read it if you like but you might find it boring and sappy.

For Mrs. Winkie,

Hey you! Yeah, you. Listen, we've been together for like an eternity, for fuck sakes and there's no one I'd rather spend that eternity with than you. I hope you feel the same because if you don't and you leave me I will kill our dog. The dog you pet more than me. Dead. You got that?

You stink so pretty baby, I can't get my nose away from you.

You make me smile when you smile because I'm a monkey who just immitates what he sees and I have no emotion other than what you hint at I should have. And I love you for that because I would be blank without you, baby! Blank.

Don't forget what I'll do to the dog, okay?

I like holding your hand because it feels nice and comforting, what with my chronic inner ear infection that makes me wobbly all the time. You're my rock, baby!!

I love you so much and I don't deserve you because momma said I would never deserve anything good in my life so you better not stop loving me or else I'll go crazy and be homeless and it'd be your fault.

I love you.

Do you love me? You say you do but I don't know for sure. If you did love me, you'd lift our fridge over your head and hum Ride Of The Valkyries. I'll expect that later when I get home.

I like it when you wear autumn colors. Stop wearing summers from now on because I love you so much you'd do anything for me like kill the president, right?

Your vagina is warm and it pleases me to be in it.

I love you so much, my life would be shit without you although I feel like shit most of the time but you're like if shit were to have light rays shining out of it like those pictures of clouds with God's light shining through. You know what I mean?

Mmm, mmm, mmm, you make good pasta.

I love you and I think your the most prettiest woman in the world!! But the following are changes you should make:
-You should start binding your feet like in China
-You should put rings around your neck and stretch it until you can't support your own head.
-Hockey pucks in your lower lip.
(I'll get back to you with more changes)

That's it for now but I just want to wrap it up by saying, "I love you honey bunches!"

Smooch,

Mr. Winkie

Have I scared "the man?"

A strange thing happened - I can log into blogspot, I can draft and post an entry but I can no longer view my blog from work. When I try and open it, it says that I'm "not authorized to view this page." I'm not at all computer savy so I don't know if it's a temporary glitch or the I.T. guys have done some blocking magic but it does make me feel kinda like a subversive, mole or spy type guy trying to fuck with the Russians' heads back in '66. And if you've read this blog, you know that I don't really say anything with much substance to it, I just spew out retarded scenarios with the hopes of being slightly amusing. But now I'm all paranoid.

It'd be cool to be a spy, though. The best clothes, the coolest gadgets, the hottest women, the ability to drink copious amounts of gin and still keep your bow tie straight. I got all those things going for me now, sure, but to get paid for it? Frickin awesome!

They probably make decent coin, those spies. What, at least 80 grand a year with good dental coverage, eh? That's double what I make now and I don't get to travel, unless you count the odd trip to Red Deer to hang with Uncle John and Auntie Cookie.

On the flip side, it sure would be cool to be the head of a giant corporation with secret, evil plans to take over the world. We all know it'll just end in tears but the ride to doom would be wicked awesome! I could have a hobby I'm passionate about that keeps my evilness all subdued, a hobby like bee keeping and I'll fit the bees with tiny radio headsets and train them to attack the good guys on my command. "Get him, bees! Kill, kill...KILL!" But I will love the bees.

I've always wanted minions too. I got 2 kids but asking them to tidy up their school binders doesn't have the same 'umph' as getting an employee to stalk and murder an MI-6 guy because he's figured out that I want to poison the entire Pizza Hut dough stock with a mind controlling substance that I've chemically engineered myself.

Oh well, maybe I've pissed someone off or maybe it's just some computer setting thing that's gone nutso, I dunno. All I know is that you haven't heard the last from me! No,...you haven't heard the last from me! Mwaaaa haaaaa haaaa haaa!
(*gently strokes pet iguanna)

K, bye for now.

John Stewart + Oscars = Brilliance

Just a quick thing that's bothering me today.

I've done 3 things in the past 2 days I wouldn't normally do: last night I watched the Oscars, today I read reviews of the Oscars and at lunch, I dined on canned dog food.

I don't know if it was bad audio from the audience or their actuall reaction but the audience didn't seem keen on John Stewart. Which spells out S-U-C-C-E-S-S to me. If any group of people needs to be brought down a notch, it's the big time movie actors. The pretention is so thick and their idea of their worth is sooo fucking irritating I could've just smashed my TV, but my wife and I had a bet involving sexual favors (I guessed 13 out of the 24 categories and won my hummer fair and square, btw) so I couldn't smash it.

Anyway, if you're a famous actor/actress and you happen to read this (haha I'm so funny), please do us all a favor and get down off your high horse and learn to take a fucking joke. You wonder why box office is low? It's because the movies you make suck, it costs way to much for an average joe to go see one, and frankly we're sick of seeing your anorexic, 'i'm so misunderstood', drug addled mug on every newspaper, television, billboard, cereal box, pez dispenser, hamburger box, or space available.

John Stewart kept it entertaining and funny and current. It ain't Louis B Mayer's Oscars anymore, so live with it.

K, bye for now.

Stonehenge - I've figured it out!

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Freaky Friday's Fun Fetish Foto - Ep. II

Okay, here's something that does not at all turn my crank in a sexual way. It certainly does on a much deeper level, though.

Grown People in Diapers


Those of you who know me personally will find it hard to remember any time where I said something to the effect of, "That is just so stupid I can't agree with it." The reason is I'm a big ass libertine and as such, I have an obligation to those with different 'bents' to say "way to go!" But even after saying that, I think I'm alloud to giggle just a bit, aren't I? I'm sure people do it to me all the time. Anyway, this particular fetish makes me giggle. I don't find it attractive, nor sexy but that's the great thing about fetishes! The more uncomfortable others are with it, the more exciting your fetish is!

Some people take their sex very seriously though and get quite upset if you make light of it or joke about it (eg. never tell a lesbian that she looks like Meatloaf with a buzz cut). So I don't know if diaper fetishists see the silliness of what they do or if men who dig chicks in leg casts (that'll be next week's fetish) realize how strange that looks to others but I hope they do. I even kinda wish there was a parade celebrating each and every weirdo thing out there. Or, better yet, have one big one with all fetishes represented. The diaper people and the S&M folks marching arm in arm, the midgetporn fans and the footsuckers embracing on the streets, and the scat lovers hurling their desires at everyone else. It'd be freak-a-riffic!

I don't know what I'm getting at here but if you live in a community and see a feller in a dog collar being dragged around by his dominant partner, don't judge. Just walk over to him, pat him on the head and say, "good boy." Then, as you walk away, you can giggle your ass off because that's totally fucked!

I heart you,

Mr. Winkie

American Idol is bigger than Jesus.

I can't remember what night it was but on American Idol last week, Paula Abdul said, "this is the best show ever, the best show in the world! It really delves into the human spirit."
If I didn't want to have sex with her so bad, I'd hunt that woman down and stimulate her clitoris until she died! If American Idol does anything, it strips the contestants of any sort of humanity they may have had to begin with. Her saying that is like saying, "Politics brings out the best in overly ambitious people."

She was so sincere too, that's what killed me. At least Simon makes no qualms about him being entertainment's version of Dickens' Fagin. He's out to create pick-pockets. El Divo (Simon Cowell's creation and in no way are they related to 80's new wave Gods DEVO) are 4 handsome Opera singers (Devo were 5 geeky college students). I don't know shit about opera but my guess is they're relatively stinky. Better than me sure, but better than that big fat Italian guy? Prolly not.

*Note- if you know anything about opera, please let me know if these guys suck or if they're actually any good. That is a bit of research I don't think I can do on my own without puting a gun in my mouth. Thanks.

Popular music has long been filled with flash-in-the-pan, marketed for public consumption, lame asses. Once in awhile a good one manages to rise to the top. Ricky Nelson was a teen T.V sensation on Ozzie & Harriet and managed to get a record deal because he looked so good to chicks. But he also wrote some fantastic rock 'n roll songs with emotion and catchy hooks. Whadda we got these days? "Don't you wish you're girlfriend was a freak like me?" My God, I'd rather be ass raped by pro wrestler "The Big Show" than hear that again, but I better lube up 'cause there's no stopping shit.

Anyway, the kids like it and as I've mentioned before, kids like shit and there's nothing we can do about that. It's just too bad that parents end up paying the money for it.

And to move this in a different direction, am I becoming one of those opinionated blog geeks? I wanted to stay away from that but I'm allowed a slip up every now and then, eh? Sure.

K, buy 4 cow

Mr. Winkie - Male Prostitute

I saw a study somewhere that said people change careers every 10 years nowadays. If that is the case, then I'm 3 years away from a major career change. I decided today that in 3 years I'm gonna become a male prostitute, specializing in middle aged to youngish, senior citizen women.

I know, the vast majority of male prostitutes tend to be younger guys with no body fat who suck cock for crack, but that's why my plan is perfect. It's a niche market, man! I can get some nice suits and be like Richard Gere in American Gigilo (because, as we all know, Hollywood always portrays prostitution with severe realism) and I'll charm the ladies!

Don't worry sweety, we'll stay married as long as you can handle my career choice. Sure, it'll be tough and you may get jealous from time to time but we'll learn to live with it. Just think of all the experience I'll gain and how that will better our love making time!

I'll take the ladies to bingo and hold their bingo dabbers all suggestively and let them kiss the tip of their dabber and I'll smile and wink at them and they'll just know that later they'll get their aged rocks off. I'll even go with them to the theraputic whirl pool in their senior complex and give all the other older folks something to be gossipy about as they play crib the next day in the common area. And who knows, that may be a good way to network.

The lonely, middle aged ones are the money ticket, though. And if movies have taught us anything, it's that they'll be the best looking ones too. Everywhere I look there'll be Anne Bancroft look-alikes waiting to seduce me. Bring it on Mrs Robinson, bring it on.

Of course, I'll practice safe hooking. You know, call my wife when I'm on a date so she knows where I'll be if a trick turns bad. You never know, I might suddenly find myself on the bad ass end of a flying purse because my "date" is a psycho who missed her meds that morning.

I'll even be that male hooker that goes the extra mile and cuddles with my date for awhile after the deed is done. A "male hooker with a heart of gold," if you will. I'll hold her as we watch Emiril, and she'll giggle like a school girl when I echo Emril and whisper playfully in her ear, "bam."

Yeah, so I think that's gonna be my next job.

K, buy me now.