sweasel.com

I didn’t alter that image, by the way. I’m pretty sure the lad in the center is a bootblack, and the thing in his hand is a brush. Not any part of the lad on his right.

You never know, YH. Especially with that Alger guy.

Even if the CIA engineered AIDs, it is still preventable and you can blame your own nasty selves for spreading it, unless members of the CIA force themselves into bath houses, public toilets, and people’s homes, to have sex.

And what explains the 14% rise in syphilis in gay men, and 48% of black girls having STDs? The CIA certainly gets around. Must have something to do with the Patriot Act or something. Can’t be individuals with no self control, nope can’t possibly be that.

One of the worst issues has been black men on the downlow (or is it lowdown?). Because blacks are far more intolerant of gay black men than whites are of white gay men, black gay men keep their gayness hidden. They get married, have kids, et cetera. But they go out and have random unprotected sexual encounters, often contracting AIDS and becoming HIV+ without their knowledge, which they pass on to their wives/girlfriends/etc.

I don’t care where HIV came from. It is entirely within the black people’s ability and power to stop its spread.

On that matter: notice how so many people are anti-war but they do nothing about gang violence in our country? Black leaders all pay lip service to anti-violence initiatives and exhortations, but if they wanted it to stop, they could do it.

Listen to “I’ve Been Everywhere”, New Zealand version.

And I thought we had it bad with native place-names.

It’s all about the poop chutes, I’m convinced.

If people will stay out of the ol’ poop chute, they won’t get that aids shit.

Look, guys,its simple. That is an EXIT, not an entrance. If your stick smells like shit when you’re done, you’re doin’ it wrong.

I didn’t know Algiers was a boy-bugger! Kinda like Arthur C Clarke, huh? Damn.

Temptation – thy name is poop chute. I guess.

Even so, modern medicine has invented a most marvellous creation. It’s quite thin and uncumbersome. It’s called a “pregnancy and sexually-transmitted diseases prophylactic”. Also known as a “condom”. (Not to be confused with a condominium.)

Really. It boggleth the mind how reckless people can be.

What boggleth my mind is the utter depravity of a certain sub-category of wiener-bearers. Is no orifice in any mammal safe? Must every mucus membrane and body cavity be rubbed against, probed, depth-tested and subjected to impregnation?

I’ve never heard of rhinoceros nostril-sex, but I am confident – certain! – that it’s been tried (and probably enjoyed) by more than one person, independently. Because if I can think of it then millions of others have probably already done so.

I mean, I just recently read about some guy doing his bicycle! And there was that other guy that was found not-guilty of bestiality because the deer he was caught fucking was dead. Well! That changes everything! No harm, no foul! Bang away, fella. Here! have a dead raccoon, too!

I gotta go back up to Weaz’s post to see how we got to this point…oh, yeah. Boy-buggers.

Weaz is probably incommunicado – in the basement. Rats.

I have a wager: I predict that within – say, one week? – the phrase “Temptation – thy name is poop chute.” is on Google and points Right. Back. Here.

It is inevitable. Update (using edit!) I just checked – no sign of the phrase yet, of course.

Woohoo! You shall contribute to Her Stoatliness’s Goggle-fu and cause of fame (or infamy)!

How are you feeling, by the way, McGoo? Things under control? Better?

Um, things could be better, Musli. The magnificent temple that is my bod’ is not responding well to the insulin and meds. I blame the Democrats.

Thanks for asking, Musli.

But I did figure out what I could eat at Denny’s that’ll allow me to bait Goths! Ya see, I gotta have food: it’s part of the goth-baiting schtick. It’s essential!

Well, of course you need food! You just have to find that merry balance of what actually works to keep stuff in check. I won’t say that’s the hardest part (the hardest part really is following through with all the stuff one has to do) but it is one of the hardest and the rest should be easier, relatively speaking.

Sorry to hear things are still chaotic.

I hope I didn’t sound down; I’m not! I’ve been accomplishing a lot this week, so I’m even more cheerful than usual. The sugar thing will settle down.

I don’t mind the diet restrictions too much. I’m actually considering becoming a vegan, but not a religious one who is an asshole. (I have assholiness covered other ways!). I have always loved veggies. I think it would be more interesting if they squealed when eaten, though.

Heh. All my friends mention, “Thank god you don’t like to drink much! Oh! I’d die if I had to give up (insert favorite tipple).” Yeah – I’m not suffering too much. That’s a blessing. I got it good, Musli….

I mean, I just recently read about some guy doing his bicycle! And there was that other guy that was found not-guilty of bestiality because the deer he was caught fucking was dead. Well! That changes everything! No harm, no foul! Bang away, fella. Here! have a dead raccoon, too!

How judgmental of you!
/lib nostril poker

Give the meds adjustment time. I remember my mother-n-law had problems for several months as she worked out the meds. She wound up working the meds down to half the dose as it was crashing her sugar level. One time pops had to call the ambulance because she passed out all loopy. They came, gave her some glucose, she popped back up wondering why the hell strangers were in her house staring at her.

One of the worst issues has been black men on the downlow (or is it lowdown?). Because blacks are far more intolerant of gay black men than whites are of white gay men, black gay men keep their gayness hidden.

Several years ago, when I was still buying the Post Dispatch, they had a big write up about this issue because of the AIDs cases in the black community was going out of control. Gayness is looked down upon while promiscuis sex otherwise, noone bats an eyelash. A perfect set-up for a terrible outcome. Especially when that ‘natural feeling’ gets preference over ‘raincoats’.

Yep – I’m not worried. Things will be fine.

Hey! If a guy was nostril poking and the rhinoceros sneezed – would his butt blow off? The imagery…

It’s all about the poop chutes, I’m convinced.

Which I just don’t understand. They are wanting to poke something – check. They hook up with more than likely a very feminine male – check. So why don’t they just get a real woman with a part meant for poking? Seeing as how that part is triple layered, compared to a single layer intestinal wall (better for larger molecules – like the AIDs virus – to pass through).

I have a feeling McGoo, that if some fruit tried putting his wanker up a rhino’s nostril, he would be shishkabobbed as he should be.
Unless the rhino was a RINO, in which case, he would get all tingly. *ewww*

I will never understand the motivations of folks who aren’t – y’know – like most folk.

Looks like McGreevey won a round in divorce court.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080321/ap_on_re_us/gay_governor_divorce

The judge dismissed Dina Matos McGreevey’s claim of emotional distress against her estranged gay husband.

“Mr. McGreevey was not out to destroy her emotionally,” said Superior Court Judge Karen Cassidy.

Oh really? Then WTF did he think would happen to his wife’s mental state if she ever found out his two-timing health-risking ways?

Different strokes (heh) for different folks and all that, but what really puzzles me is that some women permit men to do that to them. Last time I checked, my clitoris was not located anywhere near there.

McGoo & Musli — I (another diabetic, pills + insulin) heard this on XMRadio tonight, from Consumer Reports on medical uses of animal venom, hormones etc., plus things like leeches. Pertinent part, copied from the CR website:

Gila-monster saliva — Exenatide (Byetta), a synthetic form of a hormone that occurs naturally in the reptile’s saliva, is an injectable drug for people with type 2 diabetes who can’t adequately control their blood sugar with other medications. Some evidence suggests that the drug may also help those people lose weight.

So, maybe reptile spit will be our salvation. 🙂

Diabeetus and butt-sex. Y’all are getting along just fine without me.

My floors are looking good. The first coat of polyurethane went on yesterday. Shoot, I expected the dust, I didn’t even think about the pervasive stench of lacquer. High as a kite on it.

Don’t smoke! Between the dust and the fumes, you might see a big bright light, hear a really loud noise, and find yourself several thousand feet up in the cold night sky of Rhode Island.

Weaz – you should leave a butt-print in the fresh lacquer in a closet or bedroom somewhere. Y’know – as a parting gift for the new owners. Years in the future you can go by and tell ’em. I would…

Heh. The floor guys almost solved my little real estate problem in a similar manner: one of them hit a stove knob moving furniture into the kitchen and turned the gas on. Nobody noticed until the stink reached nostril level.

My moms finally decided on that for a suitable memorial. She said, “bring me 100 pounds of clay and I’ll sit on it.” The Betty Weasel Memorial Assprint.

It didn’t happen, though. When she actually fell ill, the idea seemed a good deal less amusing to her.

Ya just can’t get good floor help today. They keep blowing up their clients.

Looks like McCain is a shoe-in come November. But the fat bitch hasn’t sung yet, so I’m not starting any celebrations ’til Jan 09. Besides, a McCain victory will still feel an awful lot like, “Well, it could’ve been worse.”

Now is that any way to feel about an election the (R)s win?

If the (R)s take the House and Senate back TOO, then I will be happier.

Hell, I’d be mildly happy if folks would just stop messing with other folks’ poo pipes. Is that too much to ask of a cold, heartless world?

I’d rather have the House or Senate back. I don’t see that happening, though.

I’m not making any predictions about the presidency. Mostly because every single political prediction I have ever made has failed to come true, and this year has been especially weird.

I can say with some confidence I’m going to hate our next president, though.

I’d be willing to bet I’ll hate him, too. For sure, I’d hate her.

After I got over the white-trashness of the neighbors 4 BBQ’s in their front yar… shit they’re coming over………..hold that thought

Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Holdin’ her nose.

Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Wearin’ old clothes.

Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Sniffin’ gas fumes.

Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Weasel in a basement, basement, basement
Waitin’ for the boom.

McCain is a snooty elitist democrat in republican clothing. Who’d a thunk I would have to choose between the less evil of three democrats? That is truly a bitter pill to swallow. And pills usually give me diarrhea.

I think the way these primaries have been carried out needs to be overhauled. Who do I call to bitch about that? I just know those confused slimeballs at the RNC are delighted at the outcome.

I think so, too. <stepping gingerly over the poetry to address PnB> Something is terribly wrong when our nominee is decided in the same few states again and again, before most of us get a chance to vote.

Especially if those states hold open primaries and aren’t especially red to begin with. Whose candidate are we choosing, anyway?

Hey, we tried to do something about it here in FL. See where that got us. Worst of all, we may have improved Hillary’s chances.

In other news, my neighbor across the path mowed his lawn yesterday. Forecast to be around 75 degrees today. Makes putting up with the smell of suntan lotion and old people almost worth it.

It’s snowing. Just when all the piles of snow melted and it was sunny and there was lots of grass for our baby (the shih tzu) to run around in circles on, it started snowing. And it’s snowing hard.

Ah well. I used to like the snow until I had to go out in it three times a day to walk our baby. And he doesn’t like snow. He loves it when he can play in it, but trudging around in it just to pee or poo, he doesn’t like.

Apropos to nothing, I want pizza. No, I crave pizza. I crave it so bad it’s not even funny. Maybe I’m pregnant. Or hypoglycemic.

Pizza is one of the few foods I can really jones for. And it’s funny, I didn’t grow up with it. I didn’t eat a decent pizza until I was almost 20.

Mmmmm…pizza!

IIRC, Uncle B isn’t too fond of pizza, right?

Hates the stuff. I really can’t imagine why. It’s just fresh bread with toasted cheese and tomato sauce. But there you go.

It was a kick sharing a pizza with him and his mom, though. They ate it with knives and forks!

Hah!

Reminds me of non-South Asians eating South Asian food. They’ll take a chapaati or naan, put food in the middle thereof, roll it, and eat it as a roll. ROTFLOL!

(One is supposed to tear off a piece of the bread, scoop the food into it, create a “morsel” (don’t know how to translate niwaala into English), and pop it into the mouth. Repeat until bread is gone.)

(And bread is never eaten with rice, despite the fact Hispanics put rice in their burritos.)

(And one never eats the food with a fork or spoon and then tear off a piece of the bread and eat it, a la some Italian food.)

I’m speed thawing some dough for tonight’s pizza as I type.

*envy*

Musli – I’m beginning to suspect that you have a non-trivial amount of US Teen DNA in your genetic makeup. The obcession with pizza proves it. Were you a slacker when you were growing up? Did you wear long hair, baggy pants, and hate your dad except when he’d let you borrow the car? Do you like hanging out at shopping malls? 🙂

If I was a suspicious person, I’d be asking your grandma some probing questions about “grandpa” and that famous field trip she took to ‘Vegas … just before she suddenly got married.:-)

I hope I didn’t offend, Musli. Jus’ funnin’.

And I missed two typos in my last post in spite of having a spiffy edit feature.

I don’t get offended easily. You’ll have to try much harder.

I never drove a car in my youth. I was always driven. (Well, in Asian countries most people have drivers. And it’s way too dangerous and nerve-wracking to drive anyway: might as well let someone else do it!)

True story: Shortly after moving to Pakistan, my parents introduced our relatives to pizza. Homemade, of course. They loved it. Then, a year or so before we moved away, Pizza Hut opened up in Karachi. It was a hit. Still is. People would dress up in fancy clothing to eat there.

Slacker, etc.: that was my brother. I was the bookwormy nerd/geek/whatev.

Well, the kids inhaled their cheese pizza and have informed me that it is much better than store bought. And a hell of a lot cheaper than that 5-5-5 deal at Pizza Hut. The son is sorta crabby as he prefers pepperoni on his, but it being Lent, he was denied. He lives such a tough life…pffft.

I used to do pizza on Boboli bread a lot when they were little, but for some reason, stopped…until the weasel told about her pizza making skillz.