Latex-wearing Pony-humping Freakazoids

This week has been all about the squishy love fests.  I like squishy love fests.  Well, I’m not really into the squishy love fests I just read about on SexIs, but I like…you know…completely non-sexual and pudding free squishy love fests.  Oh hell, this isn’t going well already.

You probably aren’t going to believe this, but every morning when I plop my ass down to get my blog on, I give myself a little speech.  “No vag talk today, El.  Seriously.  None.  Well, maybe a little would be ok, but let’s try and keep the filthy and inappropriate to a minimum today.  Wait!  Don’t back down!  No filth.  No vag.  No taint.  No fisting sock puppets.  No yogurt slinging references.  You can pretend to be normal for 500 words, can’t you?”

Yeah, you can see how well that’s working out…

That’s cool, though.  For the most part, I don’t really KNOW most of you readers.  You’re probably latex-wearing, pony-humping freakazoids that read my posts to your kids at night instead of singing them lullabies.  I’m not judging, mind you.  I’m just saying that when I started this silliness, I didn’t really envision the bestiality and ball-gag set as my target demographic.

Every now and again though, I hear from nice normal people that knew me back when I was pretending to be an upstanding pillar of the community.  (For a few short years between the music biz (rock shows and strippers) and the blog-a-thon (vaginas and ponies) I had an honest to goodness corporate gig.  We had meetings in conference rooms and EVERYTHING!  I can’t tell you how many times I had to explain to my boss that she really wasn’t utilizing my full skill set, but she insisted that hookers weren’t appropriate at the cocktail hours we hosted.)  Unsuspecting, we dive into a conversation about the newspaper biz or some upcoming corporate retreat then catch up on personal lives.  Then they’ll say something like, “But I know everything that’s going on in your life!”  Then I hold my breath and hope they’ll continue with, “I read your little updates on Facebook,” and I can continue breathing again.  But sometimes they say, “I read your blog.”

…and I squirm.

…and I stutter.

…and I giggle nervously.

…and try to fake kidney failure so I can run away.

…and then I carry on.  “Well enough about me and my vagina, how are you?”

Last week I actually tried to apologize to one such gal.  She’s smart, super professional, a juggler of many things, probably not the kind of gal that humps latex clad ponies (PROBABLY)…and she reads about me and my vagina on a regular basis.  Do you know what she said?

“You can’t change your inner trucker, Elly.  You just can’t.”
I tell you, Confucius ain’t got nothing on that gal.  I’m thinking about having that embroidered on a pillow.
A Blog Award with Gentle Teeth
A Blog Award with Gentle Teeth

In other squishy love fest news, I officially give good blog.  Not only does Submom send me adorable supportive emails, she also showers me with accolades.  (Just email me the invoice and I’ll cut a check right away.)  She actually described the winning sites as “hot steamy sexy blogs.”  Now kids, while I talk about vaginas and my google search results look like the “new releases” poster from a video shop in Times Square, I’m pretty sure sexy is the last word to describe these ramblings.  Then again, we’ve already proven my readers have unusual proclivities, as exhibited by all the latex-wearing, pony-humping.

Rules are, I need to spread some lovin’ to four deserving blogs.  I hate picking favorites.  The blogs I love are in my blogroll.  You should visit them all.  I should also really update that because it’s way neglected.  So here are four specific posts that recently made me giggle.  If I didn’t pick you, it doesn’t mean I love you any less.  I just don’t think you’ve been funny lately.  (Them’s just jokes, baby.  I’m sorry.  Here, let me hand you some baby powder so the latex doesn’t snag.)
I fully spent too much time re-reading funny posts and now I can’t spell check.  Try not to judge me.  Here, I’ll distract you with this.  Maybe I should order one and make Magillicutty a video blogger.

Was that good for you, too? Then click here and follow my Facebook page. Or even better, join the mailing list. Free pony with every subscription. Probably.

24 thoughts on “Latex-wearing Pony-humping Freakazoids

  1. Phew… Up until now I felt really weird about the video cameras I’d installed all over your house, but now that you *obviously* have one at my place too, we can be open about this.

    That being said, I have 2 things to discuss. Please stop wearing the blue sweatpants. There’s a hole in them that is unflattering. Let’s just keep #2 a secret.
    .-= KeepingYouAwake´s last blog ..KEEPEE-YAN YON AWACK =-.

    1. I haven’t laughed that hard since the last time you said vagina face. Moving forward, every time I envision a vagina face its going to be capped with a mesh trucker hat that says “haulin’ ass.”

  2. See, I am drawn to this blog for your inner trucker. I have an inner trucker, but being a high school teacher doesn’t jive with that so much, so in order to maintain professionalism should an actual student happen upon my blog (it’s happened and it’s weird), I have to leave out the vag talk. That doesn’t stop me from blogging about my husband’s balls though. 🙂
    .-= Andrea´s last blog .."Cousins" =-.

    1. My vag would totally give your vag a high five if either of them had arms. I’m just assuming your vag is arm free. Dear God I hope your vag is arm free. It’s going to get rather awkward if isn’t. Fuck.

  3. Do I get to take that award?!!!
    Don’t ever doubt that some of your local upstanding citizens have some ghoulish oddities in their closets. Did you ever wonder why so many people identified with the wild abandonlike attitude toward fisting, v’s, and miniature ponies being forced to wear tiny attractive shoes?
    How about the pure theraputic value of this content? I could not utter the word vagina before I started reading. You have singlehandedly undone 12 years of nun abuse. Great things have come from your inner trucker. Now blow that horn twice.
    .-= Kelly´s last blog ..Nothing much to say. =-.

  4. I’m stealing that award faster than the local crack whore stole my toddlers t-shirt off the laundry line. It made a lovely skin tight half tank for her evening festivities which I’m sure consisted of scoring more rock and giving drug dealers blow jobs. Ewww. I think I just made myself sick.
    .-= Kelly´s last blog ..Nothing much to say. =-.

  5. I’m totally going to use that while interviewing private schools for Julian, after I find out they’ve already Googled my name:

    “I can’t change my inner trucker, Headmaster, I just can’t”.

    If it doesn’t work, I’m coming for your smart professional friend. Let’s see her Confucius battle my Ninja.

    My vagina is a Ninja – but we’ll talk about that another day.

    Thank you for the shout out!! I love you….and your vagina.

    A lotta vagina.
    In regina

    Ok, I better stop. I fear the latex has dried.
    .-= lagunatic´s last blog ..I’m not good at this – I think this is not my life. =-.

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