Posts Tagged ‘no foul language’

Art at Pouring My Art Out wished for me to basically write a post devoid of jokes involving race, sex, religion, or abuse and it must not have any outlandish opinion to it. In other words, he wanted me to write something nobody would ever want to read. He did however say it should be about happy things or at least I think he did. So here’s a post about happy things without any insults to anybody. I feel like throwing up. What’s something that makes everybody happy? Animals! Here are some things about my experiences with certain animals. It’s completely appropriate for children too as there are no insults or foul language.

(This post can be enjoyed by everyone in this picture)

Pussies:

I grew up in a home with pussies. We had three pussies in total. The first two were named Stephanie and her brother’s name was pronounced “Stah-Shoe” which I am told is the Yiddish name for Stanley. I’m scratching my head too. The third cat we had was named Briscoe after the Bruce Campbell show Briscoe County Junior. At least we watched the show.

Stephanie’s strangest quark involved her sleeping habits. There were only two places she ever slept, in the “messy room” on an old air conditioner and on my bed. She shed a lot and I have always been allergic to cats so I always tried convincing her the air conditioner was better. Still, it was nice to know I had the most comfortable bed in the house in a room with a door that could not shut.

“Stah-Shoe” was a tough cat. By the time I could have memories he only had one good eye. He was always getting into fights with other cats in our old home in Edison, New Jersey which I am told was a tough neighborhood. He was a black cat who purred louder than anything else. He was probably the most cuddly of the cats I ever had ownership over. He also has the highest kill count if you’re scoring at home.

Briscoe was more my older sister’s cat. My mom did not like him very much. He always peed in the corner of the living room and was a general annoyance. In a lot of ways he’s exactly like McGwire the Dog, more of a pest than a companion. I think this is what happens when animals are overly babied. Briscoe was still a nice cat who never minded being picked up and swung around the room. At least, he never said it annoyed him.

(Little pussies are my favorite)

Bitches:

It seems like every dog I meet is a male dog, never a bitch. I prefer bitches. Female dogs usually like male humans more and vice versa. I had mastership over one female dog in my lifetime, her name was Baylee.

The first time I met Baylee was when I came home from school one winter day in 2nd grade. She was extremely thin at the time after the abuse she endured. Baylee sat on the couch and when I opened the door her head poked up. It was love at first sight. By far she was the coolest dog ever. She had bad hips yet was still a great athlete. I could throw balls to her and like Air Bud she would hit them up in the air.

Baylee was a great companion for a young boy. She even somewhat understood soccer rules. A dog comprehended that she was supposed to block a ball from going one way and that she was trying to push it in the other direction. McGwire the dog still doesn’t understand his heavy breathing is the least sexy noise to wake up to. I miss Baylee.

(Two bitches playing Frisbee together)

Asses:

In America it’s illegal to own an ass. Asses, otherwise known in children’s books as donkeys, are not great pets. I’m not exactly sure why. Has anyone ever tried it? I think we need to give them a chance.

There’s not much I can say about these animals. Nobody goes to a zoo to see them. I know asses are important in some countries where they are used as transportation. In America their only purpose is to run for public office and screw over the kind people who live in this fine country.

(Check out these adorable asses rubbing together)

Cocks:

Some people wake up from the sound a cock makes. It sounds like “cock-a-doodle-doo!” I think we have all at some point in our life thought about quitting our jobs and working on a farm. I know I have. There’s something about living on a farm that seems so pure and beautiful. Your biggest responsibility is making sure you’re pulling your weight.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen a nice cock. Whenever I do see a rooster they’re always scary. Aren’t emus just giant roosters? Emus are the scariest animal on the planet and yes I’m including Megashark in this debate. I don’t know if I would ever want to wake up from a rooster cawing. I prefer my phone alarm because at least my phone doesn’t creep me out.

(Three cocks just hanging out doing their thing in a public park)

There you go. A nice post where I did not degrade anyone and managed to keep everything completely family friendly. If we learned anything here it’s to never trust me to grant you a wish with a positive result in the end.