It takes your food seven seconds to get from your mouth to your stomach. One human hair can support 3 kg (6 lb). The average man's penis is three times the length of his thumb. Human thighbones are stronger than concrete. A woman's heart beats faster than a man's. There are about one trillion bacteria on each of your feet. Women blink twice as often as men. The average person's skin weighs twice as much as the brain. Your body uses 300 muscles to balance itself when you are standing still. If saliva cannot dissolve something, you cannot taste it.
Women reading this will be finished now. Men who read this are probably still busy checking their thumbs.
So Set Yo Ass Down and Shut Up, Cause I'm Gonna Tell Ya a Story!
Once upon a time there was a miller's daughter or sumpthin like that named Gladys. Now Gladys had a pathetic existence. All day long, she would spin straw. And all night long, she'd sit up and think how she would like to be famous. Oh, to be famous, with untold riches and men falling at her feet and her own line of action figures.
One night---POOF---a strange little man appeared before her. "Little lady" he said,"I can make you famous overnight!" "Who are you?" "I am what is known as a PR man", he squeaked. "You know, public relations. Publicity. Flackery. Glamourize the unglamorous. Turn the pedestrian splendorous. Now let's see. What can you do baby"? "Oh, I can spin straw." "Spin straw! I love it. Love it". "What do you mean, you love it"? "Don't interrupt. I'm looking for an idea. The spark! Of course...you spin straw into gold"! But I can't spin straw into---- "Shut up. Doesn't matter! Doesn't matter! I'll do the talking. I'll just contact Liz smith".
And so it happened that overnight, Gladys did become famous. Gossip pages, talk shows, and her own entourage of beefy security men who would beat up fans. Of course, nobody had ever seen the gold. But through the PR man's magic---and since it had appeared in all the papers---the people believed it. Everyone one of them. Even the king.
He called Gladys to the castle. "I understand you spin straw into gold", said the king. "Well, I am going to put you in a room full of my very best straw and have you spin me a heap of your very best gold. Twenty-four karats, please. None of that fourteen-karat crap". "But---" protested Gladys. Of course, if you can't, you will be locked forever in my darkest dungeon. And I'm told the humidity down there is awful. really bad on the hair follicles"
"Not so fast, my good king",said a voice. Who should it be but the PR man, who had magically popped into the castle. "My client isn't giving gold away, y'know. However, she will spin one room of gold for you on one condition: that if she does, she becomes your wife and, therefore, queen".
The king agreed, and signed on the dotted line. So did Gladys. And then Gladys was left to her task. "Well, now what?" she whined. Have I ever let you down, baby?" the PR man asked. And, true to his word, as the girl's eyes widened with amazement, the little man spun a roomful of pure, unadulterated gold. "And now, my dear, our business ends. You are rich and famous. So until your firstborn comes into the world, I bid you adieu." Her firstborn? Gladys raised her eyebrows. But the little man pointed to the fine print at the bottom of the contract, conveniently providing her with microscope with which she could read it. And sure enough, there it said in black and white that her firstborn child must be given to the PR man. Gladys wondered if the PR man ever heard of adoption agencies, which would seem like an easier way to get kin---but it was too late. She had already signed it away.
About a year later, she popped out a beautiful child of the the king and queen (who looked alot like the pool boy). And sure enough, the little PR man came for the child, according to the contract. What the little man didn't know is that in reading the fine print, Gladys found a loophole. "A loophole as big as a Mack Carriage, buddy!" the queen told the PR man. And then she read it to him.
If the party of the first part (that's me) within 3 days discovers the name of the party of the second part (that's you), the party of the first part shall keep the party of the third part (that's the little kid)!
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. (Not that it was easy to say mind you.) She spat out dozens of names --- from Winfro to Tyrone to Clyde to Deonn --- but none of them was right. On the third night, Gladys was in despair, having exhausted all the names she knew. Just then there was a knock at the palace door. And who should come in but a man who has no importance to the plot other other than to get us out of this hole that we're in. He spoke as if he came from a time long, long ago.
"Like, hey, man," he said to the queen. "You don't know me, but I've got to hip you to some news! Like the other day, I'm walking through this cool forest, when, man, what do I see but this little cat going, 'Ba doo oh bop, she-ram. I am the Rumpelstiltskin man. The king's got his gold. The queens got her fame. And their baby will have my Rumpelstiltskin name."
The Queen said Thanks and he was immediately taken away for psychiatric evaluation.
The next day, when the little PR man appeared again, the queen was ready. Ba doo oh bop, she-ram. You are Rumpelstiltskin man! "Ooops," said Rumpelstiltskin. "I really F**ked Up." And so Gladys and the king lived happily ever after, and Rumpelstiltskin was never seen in the kingdom again.
There were several reports concerning a young girl who could make diamonds out of turnips, but of course that was in another kingdom. And you can't believe everything you read in the papers now can you?
Dear Merle, I am double joined...although this does lead to some fun activities, it can be a little uncomfortable. How do I tell my boyfriend (who is 35) to back off a little without hurting his feelings....
Out On A Limb -------------------------------------
Dear Out on a Limb, I personaly have always found the act of love with double-jointed people very satisfying. I'm double jointed myself, or I was (before the bad manure plant accident) and found it sometime a blessing and sometime a curse. You have my sympathy. But maybe I can help.
My suggestion would be to acquire a little know but very useful book called "The Lithuanian Kama Sutra" Originally printed in 1609, written by Kazakhstan midgets and translated by Lithuanian monks, I found it chalk full of info and has a special section on the art of sensitive double-jointed love making for two, three or for going solo, if you know what I mean. The technique of the "Karezza Half Moon Uruvaghana Embrace" is very good for the more nimble of us, and the "El Kabachi Transverse Gardabha Twist"(with optional chocolate) is equally effective for the more kinky couples. I also recommend the "Upside-down Lotus Padma combined with Yugmapad Lunge from the side position. Excellent! TIP: This position combining the Feng shui technique of facing East, North / East between the hours of 4 and 6pm is simple incredible!
But I must STRONGLY warn you, stay away from the section on "Parshva Marjara Reverse Ekabandha and Self Stimulation" I broke an ankle and two fingers with that one!
All and all, a great forgotten book that should give you and your partner minutes and minutes of fulfilled pleasure. And remember: Alway be safe in you love making. No deposit, No return.
So Set Yo Ass Down and Shut Up, Cause I'm Gonna Tell Ya a Story!
Todays Story....Beauty and the Beast
Once upon a time there was a magnificent golden castle (obviously not where I come from) on a silver cloud high up in the sky, which has nothing to do with anything cause my story is about an old woodchopper who lived in a shack, but that's a good way to start a fairy tale, know what I'm sayin...
The old man was very happy, but he had a daughter, who was very unhappy because....well, she was rather plain. Actually, she was really plain. In fact, she was one ugly white girl who had a face like five miles of bad road......
Anyway, it was time for her to marry, but because she was so ugly, none of the young men of the kingdom ever came to ask for her hand, or any other part of her body, for that matter. Then one day, the old man decided to cheer her up.
"Child, it is your birthday and I've brought you something to keep you from being so lonely."
"A man?" she asked, wide-eyed" "Nope. A mule."
He pointed to a brown, furry, four-legged, grunting beast. Well, a mule wasn't exactly the kind of companion she had in mind, but at least it was somebody to talk to.
"Hi there, silly beast," said the girl to the mule. "I wonder if you were once a handsome prince changed into a mule by a wicked witch. If so, I could break the spell with a kiss." She smacked the mule right on it's lips. The poor mule grunted, spit and through-up. It was no use. The mule was a mule and had always been a mule.
The next day the old man instructed his daughter to take a bundle of sticks to the village.
"A bundle of sticks?" she asked him. "What for?"
"How should I know girl," said the old man. "Get your ass on the mule, somebody is always carrying a bundle of sticks around in fairy tales. You know that."
So the young girl took the bundle of sticks and decided to ride her trusty mule into the village. But something very strange happened. Unknown to her, the moment she climbed onto the mule's back---POOF---she turned into a beautiful maiden. You know the type: blond hair, blue eyes, a figure like she spends days doing Jazzercise.
Anyway, when she reached the village, she could hardly believe her eyes, for all the young studs, instead of laughing and throwing mud at her, bowed, tipped their hats and made catcalls. She was still trying to figure it out when a handsome young prince rode up to her on a snow-white horse.
"Whoooa Baby" he exclaimed. "You one fine lookin Sista!"
"Why, my young prince," she replied, batting her eyes. " You nuts or sumpthin?"
"With your permission," said the prince, "I should like to call upon you at you crib tonight. How about when the clock strikes the hour of eightish?"
Flushed with excitement, the girl raced home, but when she arrived and stepped off her mule---POOF---she immediately returned to her fat, little ugly self. That night, promptly at eightish o'clock, the prince, sitting astride his white charger, knocked on the door.
The girl opened the door and smiled her crooked-toothed smile---one that made chopped yak liver seem appealing, and chirped, "Helloooo."
"Um," said the prince, who at that moment was desiring a bit of Pepto-Bismol, or the medieval equivalent, "Is your sista at home?"
"I don't have a sista," the girl said.
"Your auntie then," the prince said.
"I don't have an auntie."
"Your cousin? Your best friend? Your babysitter?"
"What you talking about?" asked the girl. "I live her alone with my father."
The prince, figuring he had found the wrong house, galloped quickly off on his white stead. The poor girl was left standing at the door, broken-hearted and trying to understand what had gone wrong. The following day, her father again asked her to go into the village. This time to pick up a bundle of sticks.
"It'll take your mind off your ugliness," the old man said patting her kindly on her head.
No sooner had the girl climbed on the mule's back than ---POOF--- once again she change into a beautiful maiden. On the way to the village she chanced to pass a clear, still pool of water. Looking into it, she saw her reflection and was shocked to see she was now very beautiful. She hopped off her mule for a close look and---POOF---instantly she changed back into her former ugly self. And then, she suddenly realized what had happened.
"I get it now," she said out loud to no one in particular, as people in fairy tales sometimes do. "This is a magic mule. As long as I sit on this beast, I'm a beauty!"
The girl climbed back onto the mule, and---POOF---beautiful again. And the beauty and the beast dashed to find the prince. When he saw her coming, he rode up to her on his gallant steed.
"Ah, lovely beauty," he said. "I have found you again. Please say you will be mine so that we may be married."
"Yes, but on one condition," she said. "That I remain on my mule at all times."
Of course, this seemed like a strange request, but the prince agreed.
"So be it, my love," he said. "And so that we start off on the right foot--or on the right hoof---I shall stay on my horse as long as you stay on your mule."
And thus they were married by a priest, who delivered the sermon on a donkey. As the years went by, the young girl was very happy, although the poor mule did get a bit of a backache. And true to his word, the prince also stayed on his horse. And as any good husband would, he took her dancing every Saturday night at the club, where they were the most striking couple on the dance floor. Or actually, the most striking quadruple on the dance floor.
One day, as the girl rode in the garden---WOOSH!---the wind blew off her bonnet. Not stopping to think, she hopped off her mule to get the hat and ---POOF---she immediately turned into an ugly, disgusting hag again. Realizing her mistake, she scrambled to get back in the saddle again. But it was too late, for just then the prince rode up.
"Whoa, scuse me, old hag," said the prince. "Have you seen my wife? Wait a minute, this is her mule?"
"Yes," blushed the hag, gulping. "And I am your wife."
She began to sadly confess the whole story to her husband, but instead of being angry, he did an amazing thing. He clapped his hands and laughed for joy.
This is what he said: "Ha, ha, ha, ha. Yahoo! Yipee!" or sumpthin like that.
"I don't get it," said the girl. "Are you happy to find out that I'm really ugly?"
"No!" said the prince. "I'm happy to know that I can finally get off this fricken horse. You see, I'm only a handsome prince when I stay on him."
And with that, the prince hopped off his horse and ---POOF---he changed into one of the ugliest men ever to walk the earth. He was fat and short and bald and full of warts. His face looked like ten miles of bad road.
"Damn man! You're uglier than me!" said the girl, with glee.
"We were meant for each other!" said the man, as they embraced.
"Just think---no more saddle sores!"
And so, the ugly man and the ugly girl were able to live happily ever after. Which only goes to prove that:......."A mule and his honey are soon parted."
In a recent news broadcast, it was announced that Lorena Bobbitt's sister Louella was arrested for an alleged attempt to perform the same act on her husband as her famous sister had done several years ago. Sources reveal the sister was not as accurate as Lorena.
She allegedly missed the target and stabbed her husband in the upper thigh causing severe muscle and tendon damage. The husband is reported to be in serious, but stable condition, and Louella has been charged with?
Dear Merle. Every time I pry the bread out of the toaster with a fork I get shocked! How come?
Dazed in Dallas
Dear Dazed The answer to your question is quite simple, but far to complex for you to understand. But I will email you a link to a web-site asking for volunteers for experiments to test the effects of medical and toxic waste on the human body. I think you would be an asset to their program!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ P.M. your questions to Merle and get his Expert advice on all and anything important. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Merle, I have a problem with The Laydeeez....I try to wear the right 'happening' clothes - for example, very tight jeans held up usually with large Harley Davidson belt buckle, polished cowboy boots, bowling shirt and generally I have my moustache waxed at the tips - I avoid places with UV lights so that the dandruff doesn't glow...and yet, girls tend to look the other way when I sidle up to them at singles bars and offer them a suck of my beer. What am I doing wrong??
yours hopefully, worried blue eyes
Dear worried blue eyes, As far as your club wardrobe, one word, IMPRESSIVE! I can tell by your picture that you are a very striking young man. The problem with the Ladies may very well stem from the way you wear you facile hair. These days a very attractive and striking man with a well trimmed, groomed and waxed moustache usually means one thing. He’s Gay! Your club target obvious thinks to herself “Nice, but a waste of time”! But, perhaps I can help.
My suggestion would be to grow a chest length beard and wear a Hawaiian shirt that glows under the club lights to draw the glances of said targets. The ladies love to stroke a nicely tended beard while they look into your eyes as they listen to your advances, combined with the pulsing beat of the music as it wets their lustful desires. Before you know it your in! Don’t scoff, this is a proven technique.
And a beard of this type can be fun to have also! You could buy an inexpensive pair of cheap sunglasses, hang out at the local music store and autograph CD’s as a member of ZZ top!
P.M. your questions to Merle and get his Expert advice on all and anything important.
Group Reporter Pillsbury Doughboy killed by Broom-Wielding Housewife!
Fort Wayne Indiana, U.S. Kenneth Fresh, 34, son of original Pillsbury Doughboy, Marv "Poppin" Fresh, was killed Monday when a startled housewife beat him to death with a broom. "I was sweeping the kitchen floor and lamenting our family's usual humdrum breakfast biscuits when I heard a strange high-pitched voice directly behind me" said the shakened Debbie Combs, 44, of Fort Wayne. All he could say was "Try my new flaky Cres-" before my instincts took over and I pounded him with all my might". Rescue workers frantically poked Fresh for nearly 20 minutes in an effort to revive the doughboy, but were unsuccessful
Astronomers Admit They Made Neptune Up.
London, U.K. An elaborate 155 year old hoax was revealed Monday, when the Royal Astronomical Society confessed that the planet Neptune does not exist. "It appears to have begun in 1864, when Johann Galle needed a big discovery to give his career a jump start, so he fabricated this new planet" said Royal Astronomical Society President Sir Johnathan Peachmere Johnathan III. "Every since, every astronomer who wants some attention has come up with a new report on Neptune and made up some rubbish to support it."
"I swear we meant to come clean eventually, but the whole thing just kind of snowballed on us."
Dear Merle, I went to Wal-Mart to get a life, but they were all out. Now what do I do ?
Kisses all over, b2u -------------------- Dear b2u, I contacted Wal-Mart and their spokesperson (don't you just love political correctness) said their stock is on backorder. But maybe I can help till then.
Ol' Merle's Grand Pappy always use to say "A good life starts with FUN". My first suggestion would be (at least for weekend fun) to consider crashing a Fraternity Party. Drunken frat boys can be a lot of fun, if only temporary, but I would suggest bringing your own protection! Responsibility is not one of their strong suits. And don't loan any of them your ipod. They can do strange things to them! You could also hang out at your local bookstores sexually section, act innocent (if you can) and point to various pictures of lovemaking positions and ask strangers "is it really possible to do that?" That's how I hooked my little buttercup Rhonda. And there is always your local home improvement center. Wander about the tool section and ask questions. Be sure and use the word "TOOL" and "RIGHT SIZE FOR THE JOB" a lot and I'm sure you will get many "friends" to help with your........repairs..... so to speak!
If all else fails, CALL ME. I'm in the book! Woooo Hoooo!
----------------------------------------------------------------------- P.M. your questions to Merle and get his Expert advice on all and anything important.
Now I do know a lot about politics, I'm a manure salesman ya know, but I don't vote (my Grandma told me there's to many stupid people voting already). So when I look at this years election choices this is what I see:
1. A Lawyer married to a Lawyer.
2. A War Hero married to a Busty Blonde who owns a Beer Distributor.
Since Booger gets out of jail next month, he's going to have to get a job to keep me in the creature comforts that I'm accustom to, if he plans on hangin out here. So I came up with some job huntin tips for him. I thought I'd share them with you encase your job huntin too.
Don't Talk To Me About Problems: by Stoner Dude Wednesday I did a few to many one-hitters and wound up spending the whole afternoon trying to figure out what was making this horrible smell under my sink.
Dear Merle, I don't like being born right-handed, I would really like to be left-handed. Is their anything I can do to change this? Yours Truly, Non-ambidextrous.
Dear Non-ambidextrous, In my research of your (perceived) problem, I found two possible solutions to your question that you might consider.
The first is Physical Therapy and Immersion Techniques involving incapacitating the right arm, forcing you to use only your left. This is a very time consuming way of achieving you desired results, not to mention the stares you'll get walking around with your arm duct taped to your side!
The second solution is major brain surgery. This is the most costly and dangerous because of the undesirable side effects that can occur as a result such as uncontrollably slobbering, peeing in your pants and fascinations with Brittney Spears videos.
Neither of these do I really recommend in your case, but I would suggest for this and many other reasons you see a good Psychiatrist immediately.
P.M. your questions to Merle and get his Expert advice on all and anything important.
Dear Merle, I can't seem to get the girls! Can you help?
Dear P2 Knowing the business your in, this should not be a problem! I am beginning to believe the rumors that you have real issues are not so much a rumor after all. But perhaps I can help.
First we must understand the ladies are delicate beings, or so they lead us to believe. They love to be swept off their feet by a handsome gentleman, but tend to gravitate toward the bad boys in society. So we must walk a fine line between Wimp and Macho Man. We must be forceful, yet respectful. Stern but kind. We must pull out their chair at the dinner table, open the car door and meet their pleasurable needs in the way of their instructions (if you get my drift). We must at all times take their feelings into our consideration . Make them feel like they are your Queen!
If all else fails, ply them with Liquor and have your way! ----------------------------------------------- P.M. your questions to Merle and get his Expert advice on all and anything important.
In this day and age of everybody being armed to the teeth, with crime so high and all that, one of my boyfriends and I came up with some advise for you people who are lucky enough to own a real good side arm or powerful huntin rifle, Please use caution with all you guns, u'hear!