GWiMMRN, Do Not Go Gently into That Good Night Edition

RAGE! Rage against the dying of the light!

But before you do that, guess what's in my mouth right now:

A) Robert Frost's erectile dysfunction, which led to his untimely death at age 114.
B) Robert Frost's horse, who not only thought it "queer" that they stopped in the woods in the middle of a snowy night, but also that Robert Frost was a flamboyant homosexual.
C) The little fantasy land that I have retreated into for the past few weeks.
D) Time, which has no meaning here.
E) Swords and sorcerers and elves and witches and mermaids and unicorns and a dozen inflatable fuck dolls.
F) More pain than you can shake a stick at.
G) A big, fat 499th cock.


Anonymous Inflatable Fuck Doll Harem said...

Please, Lord. Please free us from bondage.

Swing looooww, sweet chariot! Comin' for to take-a me HOOOOMMMME!

7:18 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have a, um, a few, well, I suppose you'd call them "quesbluns."

Ha ha!

The first is, did Robert Frost really DIE of erectile dysfunction at age 114? And after having lived for so long, wouldn't just about any death be considered timely?

The next is, how do you clean off the, um. Well, the...the dolls.

How do you clean them off? With a hose?

The final question I have, it's a little strange, I suppose. It's this:

How many F's are in the following sentence:


I'd really appreciate it if you could get back to me on these, well, these rather pressing iss-hues.

Thank you.


Yes, thank you. A lot.


7:49 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

this is my favorite poem. I always imagine the beautiful woods with the snow falling from the sky. I admire the man for thinking of his obligations when the lovely woods is so tempting. I can always see the horse in my mind giving his harness bells a shake.

I have a 13 inch throbbing rubber spiked dildo in my ass right now, and I'm thinking of Robert Frost.

7:51 AM  
Anonymous Star Jones Reynolds said...

I hope you realize that I shall be suing you, Kip Hawley, the MPAA, John and his long mustache, the dog who doesn't know how to take a shit, Barbara Walters and her speech impediment, Deroy Murdock, Miles the Cat with Testicles the Size of Walnuts, the singing tranny, and the Canadian Bushbuck whose penis stinks so bad he can't sing the Canadian National Anthem because he can barely breathe for the fumes.


I'm a lawyer, you know.

I know who you are, you know.


7:53 AM  
Anonymous John "Loafpinchy" Wayne said...

I've told y'all about that smilin'.

You cut that shit right out. Smilin' never did nothin' for nobody nohow.

Next one who smiles 'round here's gettin' the ol' boot up the poop shoot, you sabby?


7:55 AM  
Anonymous Kip Hawley said...




8:44 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Poop shoot.

Hee hee!

That never gets old, somehow.

9:53 AM  
Anonymous John Wayne said...

I may be dead, but I will not sit idly by while some yahoo thinks its cute to impersonate me and, worse yet, claim that my middle name is "loafpinchy."

What kind of sophomoric mind would come up with the name "loafpinchy?"

Also, it is NOT poop "shoot." No one is shooting poop. It is poop "schute."

Now, the next s.o.b. what smiles at me will get a leather boot up the poop shoot, comprende?


12:58 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


1:40 PM  

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