Sleep, where have you gone?

So it’s Tuesday afternoon. There seems to be frozen rain pouring from the sky. I was looking for inspiration to write something. I feel my lack of posts last week was a gross injustice to the tens of people that were expecting me to post something. Instead I got distracted, again.
On the 13th of December in 2006 a strange thing happened. The first INSULTants post was published. I should have marked the bitter sweet two year anniversary with a tribute to how much Son of a Bitch sucks. He deserves all the crap we give him. He was the original author on this site. But alas, we were let down by a much stronger force than wasting time on the internet. Of course, I mean vagina. Mainly the fact that he finally got to see one without having to type a dirty web address into his browser. So to commemorate this slightly overdue, insignificant fleeting moment that has passed. I have only this to make clear.
All of us have moments of weakness.
Especially when presented with such a complex problem as; a real, living, breathing, human female who wants to touch your penis vs. writing stories about how much Jerry’s life is the example of uber fail.
That being said, I will not accept defeat. I have granted him a pass. But, I will under no circumstances whatsoever cease busting his no longer blue balls.

On to the story.

I haven’t slept since Sunday night. What a bitch. This isn’t the first time this has happened to me. I’m sure it won’t be the last. I have no problem with a off time sleep schedule, but when this happens it puts a whole two to three days out of whack. So to pass the time until I fall asleep, I decided to write a post. Easier said then done. I had no ideas, and none of my random notes really helped. So I began to think about what actually inspires me to…Ah ha! (not the band, but the exclamation). I was shown a picture last night. Of this person that I don’t even know. But, he had a nickname. A nickname that made me laugh. Dogfucker. Awesome. That means that I am not the only person to merge an animal with the word fucker and turn that into a nickname. I know, I know. This by no means makes me normal. Nor does it negate that fact that I am an asshole. But it sure as hell makes me laugh. In my head I saw this introduction happen.

“Hey man, I have someone I would like you to meet. Horsefucker, this is Dogfucker. Dogfucker, Horsefucker. I’m gonna go grab another beer. You guys can swap stories about how you got stuck with such horrible nicknames, and how much you actually hate your friends. Have fun.”

That meeting needs to be set up. The hard part will be trying to get through the introduction without laughing.
Strow

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