Hypothetical question

Is it wrong to eat an entire Entenmann's Raspberry Danish Twist over the course of 17 hours? Just wondering.

R.I.P. Bjørn Vågland

A fine man and a loving father. He will be missed.

Gratuitous cat shots

Grover Derwood

Ava Wilhemina

I'm working on a post but I need to scan a few photos before I can publish it. Enjoy these gratuitious cat shots while you wait.

Poor George tastes his first corn dog, California State Fair, Sacramento, August 2007

Our friend Sarah looks on from across the table as Poor George bites into his first ever corn dog. He gave it a 5 out of 10. I can't help it if he's out of his mind.

Update!!

I was sitting here being impressed with myself for taking such a cute picture and was marveling at all the bright colors - so I decided to enlarge to take a closer look and just noticed the woman behind George - she is covering her mouth and has this horrified look on her face. I'm even more impressed with myself now!

I'm Tormented by Mormons in the Night

A Mormon Temple Recommend. You need one of these bad boys to get into a Mormon temple.

And if you think you'll get your hands on one of these before you fork over 10% of your pre-tax income, you'd better think again.

Lulu recently had a boring dream with me in it. I should be so lucky. What kind of dreams to do I get? Well, last night I dreamed about Mormons.

This sick occurrence is probably due to my recent online fight with Pussy Boy (aka Sushi.) Pig fucker.

In this dream I was at a mall that was for some reason attached to a Mormon temple. For my non-Mormon-watching readers, a Mormon temple is where card carrying Mormons perform all the creepy rites they stole from the Masons more than a hundred years ago. They do things like baptize their dead relatives and seal themselves to their families for all eternity.

Sounds kind of like going to Hell to me, but I guess the Mormons like it.

Only Mormons in good standing (read: the ones who regularly fork over 10% of their pre-tax income) get to enter the temples. To be admitted you have to have a special card called a Temple Recommend, given to you by your local church leaders after you hand over those checks they use to purchase all that celestial underwear and the really gay looking white garments they make you wear inside the temples. (A lot of that money also goes to helping suppress the gays, but we've already discussed that ad nauseum on this blog.)

So anyway, I dreamed that I was in this mall and got a bug up my butt about wanting to get myself inside that temple. So I started scheming on how to get my hands on a Temple Recommend.

I ran into one of my law school classmates who is a nice Mormon girl (as if there is such a thing) and asked if I could borrow her Temple Recommend. She said "sure, why not?" and handed it to me.

I approached the mall door that led to the temple and started worrying that they would notice my Temple Recommend was issued to a female named Stephanie and that my little plan might not work.

I don't remember anything else. I guess this story isn't even very interesting, except to note that these God damned Mormons, in addition to not letting me get married, are now ruining my sleep. Fuckers.

Amen.

CPW Writer's Block Series: Diary of Not a Rice Person

Gentle Readers,

I'm suffering the dearth of inspiration that is writer's block. To keep my newer readers entertained I will occasionally direct you to past pieces that I particularly enjoyed writing.

Our first in this series is my essay Diary of Not a Rice Person which only a few of you saw on its first time around.

Enjoy. For God's sake.

CP