Many of you may not know, but the week after I got hitched, I bailed and went to Germany for 10 days. Fun, fun, fun don’cha know.

Anyway, I was in Hannover for a couple of days and managed (between the raindrops) to get out and do the tourist schlep. Grabbed a cab and took in Herrenhausen Gardens. Quite the impressive place actually. One could get lost up in there.

Figured I’d share with you what the German folk consider to be art, as they had an art exhibition in full gear within the garden gates whilst I was there. Enjoy.

Ok, so these are babydolls cocooned in Saran Wrap and hung in trees.
*scratches head* I still don’t quite get it, but ok. Kinda creepy in a Blair Witch kinda way.

And this is an exhibit called (surprisingly) “Split Pea Soup & Beer”

In case you’re wondering, the lil sign says no drinky the beer or do not touch or something to that effect.

This here is the Creme de la Creme. A Penis made out of a sticky bush. Nice. The exhibit was entitled “Sex.”

Imagine that. I certainly could have done with a lil nookie after looking at a seven foot tall prickly penis.

And the grande finale photo is not actually part of the art exhibit, it was just one of the few flowers left that hadn’t frozen it’s stamen off yet.

It was cold and miserable that day, but the oversized penis… dayum, it really did make the whole thing worth it.

     When Diva and Tony tied the knot in September, I couldn’t help but remark at the one photo which really stood out:

     “…from the looks of it, Tony is actually able to handle her.”

     But this post has absolutely nothing to do with that.

     Well…

     Other than a wedding.

     Earlier this week in India, a deeply superstitious farmhand was married, as well.  In fact, Mr. P. Selvakumar has finally found his perfect bitch.

     He says he was “cursed” after killing a couple of canines, and hopes this action will help lift it.

     Me, I’ll just sit back and laugh with a Top 10 list:

1. She’s on his crotch as soon as he walks in the door!
2. She can smell a rat a mile away!
3. He really keeps her on a short leash…
4. When she gets pissed, she’s absolutely rabid!
5. He’ll be in the dog house for the rest of his life.
6. Well, isn’t she just the pick of the litter?
7. Bet they’ll make some beautiful pups.
8. She lies like a dog!
9. Wonder if she likes it doggy-style?
10. Truly, this man knows how to handle his bitch.

     Man, you just can’t make stuff like this up…

Note: Selvakumar Photo Copyright © 2007 Associated Press, All Rights Reserved

     Every once in a while, I run across some crazy names — things which are innocent, but could certainly sound like a prank phone call if you didn’t know any better.  These are all true:

• I once knew a girl named Sunshine Beam.  I knew another named Sunny Rae Dawn.  Someone said their parents did drugs.
• I have a friend namd Anita Brown-Dixon.  Of course, I don’t think she’s ever had one, and certainly wouldn’t tell her son anything of the sort.
• I met a woman in Nashville named Anita Boner.  She really loves her husband… A lot.
• I have another friend, a Pirate Chick no less, named Robyn Cox.
• A friend of a friend called to ask me for help with something.  “Mark?  This is Dick Sells.”  I asked him who was buying.  
• I once knew a guy named John Ope.  His middle initial was L, and he usually went by Jack…  “Hello, Mr. Jackalope!”
• I met Ira Fuson a few months ago…
• …and imagine my surprise to meet the real Benjamin Dover.
• Everyone knows at least one John Turner.
• There’s a huge family of Fags just south of here.  Poor Richard… and some of them married Johnsons.
• There actually was a guy in a local high school named Mike Hunt.  He lives in Oak Ridge.

     When I consider the Wildcat’s last name is Melton, I can’t help but laugh at the headline of our future wedding.  Although, she’s been meltin’ me since the day we met…

Mark already did the big announcement about the deed. And I’ve been so unfortunately busy in the last month and a half that I’ve barely had time to think. Anyhoo. Here would be some of the photographic evidence that girls do go wild indeed. Just don’t go telling anybody. For the record, I was extremely well behaved and used the sexy little bouncer for all of my stunts.

Ahh, ya gotta love a bunch of Pirate Chicks along with those who come along for the Pirate Chick ride. Ya just do. They never let a special event go by without celebrating with cake and alcohol.

Becky and Natalie decided that come hell or high water there should be a bachelorette party the week before the wedding.

It was a beautiful evening, not too hot, not too cold. We all met up at Hooters for dinner and a drink. It was nice. Our little waitresses were super sweet, although I must say, I honestly thought I’d see more tits and ass. Not that they weren’t precious in their little Hooters gear, they were. But my 14 year old neice has more boobie and butt than these poor girls had.

Meet Ashley and Felicia:

The Hot boneless chicken tenders were tasty as all hell, my lips were nice and tingly for a while though. The girls decided to get me a cute little shirt to commemorate the joyous occassion.

In general, Hooters doesn’t see many bachelorette parties, but they do get hoards of bachelor parties… So, they improvised and got the Bachelor Party Shirt and turned into a Bachelorette Party shirt that all the little girls in tight Hooter’s shirts signed with loves n kisses.

We decided that it was time to continue on and move the festivities to Coyote Joe where Natalie and Holly had decorated and made it look like a scene from a slasher flick with the “Wild Girls- Caution” tape.

They adorned Diva with a princess tiara which boldly stated that I am indeed the Bride to Be… and if there was any question left due to the tiara being hiddeny by my hair which was erect like a hard penis, then the big Bride to Be button aptly placed between my breasts certainly gave it away.

So, we go in and invade the corner lot of CJ, nothing different there.

Olga made a real honest to God rum cake. It was a Jolly Roger, cuz she knows how we pirates roll.

We love the booty, especially rum laced booty.

Precious came and gave me congratulations lovins when she brought the multitude of drinks over.

It was time to have a little fun. We had games on tap, and honestly, watching them set up the Pin the Bow-Tie on the Bachelor was more fun than playing it.

Amanda gave the poster a hard on when she licked it from thigh to belly-button.

And Steph gave our bachelor a nice sized penis to look at…

Onward and upward we go. We had Do the Dare Cards. I mean the name alone implies that there will be some mischief going on. Let the photographic evidence be known!!

I need to state that, I, as the bride to be, didn’t do anything extreme. On the contrary, I was very well behaved. Four of the six cards I drew from the deck were completed by our sweetheart of a bouncer. God bless you, sugar!

Diva’s cards dared her to:

• get the bouncer to laugh for 100 points. Done!
• get a hunk to give her a neck massage. Done!
• get the phone number of a hot guy. Done!
• get a man to show you a hidden tattoo. Done! (It was on his upper thigh)
• get the bartender to give you a free drink. Done!
• find a guy, grab his ass, and tell him he has a nice ass. Done! (Twice!)

(Steph was witness. Two guys, two butts, double points!)

Here are some photos of the festivities! Enjoy!

Shawna found a baldguy & kissed him on top of his head:

Natalie and Amanda took the cake when they talked one of the big biker boys out of his drawers.

     Back in the day, I was rather artistic — literature, art and music for the most part — but somewhere along the line, I realized that my form of Literature wasn’t for the masses.  The Art that I created could be sold or not based simply on how I named it.  My Music was destined to be devoured by greedy, leg-breaking asshats who’d make it unaffordable.  There was always a business angle to discourage me.

     A bit of cartooning proved to be humorous, but not socially acceptable.  Back in high school, my Art teacher looked upon those doodles with great disdain.  She’d often ban me from the class because she knew what I was going to draw before I’d finished the first few strokes.
     “I won’t have that filth in my classroom!” she’d scream.
     “It’s not filth, it’s…”
     “Get out, get out, GET OUT!”
     No amount of explaining could convince her otherwise.

     While it turned me away from Art for some time, it was all for the good.  Ingenuity became the outlet for my creativity, and I avoided the life of a starving artist.
     Besides, I still have the odd spurt of creativity that I can do something cool with.  *grin*

     So, Mrs. Cooper, this video’s for you. 

(Video: http://youtube.com/watch?v=apP29XeK1o4)

Tip: Bluepaintred - I’ll get back to my regular reads soon enough

     Well, last Tuesday afternoon, I felt really, really tired all of a sudden.  Zacque and I hit Barley’s for a burger and a beer, and by the end of that late lunch, I felt like I was ready to fall over dead.  I came home, and fell asleep until Wednesday.
     Wednesday, I felt like hammered Hell.  My throat was on fire, swollen, and no amount of anything would make it feel better.  Zacque drug me out to Sitar for an Indian feast, which made me feel quite a bit better that night…
     Unfortunately, by Thursday night, I required medical attention for a skyrocketing fever and an inability to swallow.

     Yep … Strep throat.  Bad.

     On Friday, my personal hotti—err, nurse, rather — showed up to assist me with the healing process.  On Saturday night, she looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Well, I may be a Kentucky Wildcat, but you’re always a Volunteer!” *melt!*
     Mmmhmm… So I was repeatedly mauled by said Kentucky Wildcat, but she took it a little easier on me than the last few weekends.  Resulting injuries were minor, and can only be described as an attempted suffocation followed by a near drowning.  *cough*  I mean, hey, who needs nose cartilage, anyway, right?  *cough*

     Anyway … *cough* Ahem! … she fixed me up as best she could, kept me hydrated, fed me well, made sure I slept (*snicker*), oversaw my medication (Advil & Penicillin), and took very good care of me… Right down to the point this morning where I hacked out a mass of infection from between my tonsils and adenoids that was damn near the size of a friggin’ marble… I mean, OMFG, no wonder my throat was hurting so bad!

     And so, in feeling a little better, and the fact that we both had lives that we needed to get back to, I was really heartbroken to see her leave today… :-(  *snif*

     And still, I slept some more…

     So, hopefully, over the next couple of days, I’ll get back into the swing of things.

     I don’t get sick often — discounting the maybe-once-a-year sinus issue or something — but when I do, I get damn sick.  And it’s almost always some kinda funky-ass, in-the-wild bacteria, which is probably a good reason for me to stop hanging out in the woods, eating raw meat and wild produce, washing it down with water from mountain streams… but…
     I’ve done it all my life, ya know?

     Every time your web browser sends a request to a webserver (an HTTPD), the browser returns a code, along with some content.
     Does everyone remember all of the HTTPD Codes?  I’m a dork, so I do…

     So Amanda from Fashionista TV was visiting today, and in browsing her site, I ran across her blog post about HTTPanties for sale from ThinkGeek…

     Given the above list, I can find plenty of more clever variations.  These messages could be extremely helpful prior to coredumping your RAM…. Really, you never want to have an infected Hard Drive, do you?

     How about “412 Precondition Failed” and “503 Service Unavailable” for the frigid?

     Perhaps sex workers could put “402 Payment Required” to good use.

     “303 See Other” for swinging married women who get around.

     “407 Proxy Authentication Required” is a shoe-in for bisexuals, and “409 Conflicting Request” works great if they’re still a bit confused…

     Lesbian consumers also have a number of options, but the best has to be “415 Unsupported Media Type.”

     Of course, “502 Bad Gateway” across the ass is usually a given… But ”300 Multiple Choices” would work well for hermaphrodites, porn stars, and the exceptionally kinky…

     And I can certainly think of a few women who should be wearing “500 Internal Error” …

Tip: Amanda at FasionistaTV

     Ok, Brahnamin took it, so I decided to give it a go, even though I know as much about Harry Potter as Perry Caravello knows about keeping his junk outta places it doesn’t belong… Hrm…
     But I certainly don’t remember being the dorky kid with glasses…

Find out your Harry Potter personality at LiquidGeneration!

     Although, strangely…  the description kinda fits…  And I am told I have amazing, natural talent with my magic wand…

     I got this comment, and thought, “Hey, why not make this asshat famous?  He’s almost as cool as Joseph Ferrante!”

mullah cimoc | shirin_hassan77@yahoo.com | IP: 67.166.109.28

mullah cimoc say paris hilton the good and the courage. him not run away, but go to jail. this calld the charcter.

she the beautifuyl and the natural and having so many baby in future to be good wife and mother.

but lesbian ameriki and lesbian ameriki mans hating her for natural the beauty and normal liking the boy.

ameriki so wicked and hate the woman unless she killing the baby and liking the lesbian.

in waziristan this not happen. father him not allow anyone hurting him daughter. taking the “special measure”. but ameriki so tame now. no respect for self.

in waziristan whole clan attacking this wicked judge and destroy, and also destry him entire family, to include even the second cousin. and burn with fire. and all grave of ancestor destroy and give bone for dog.

hypocrite liar ameriki say him “free” the womans but in true..ameriki woman the whore with LBT (low back tattoo) and hate husband. only free to having the abortion kill bnaby , to being slut and bad wife not cooking.
so soon all ameriki need make freedom and destroy controlling of usa by masters in tel aviv through spy in white house and pentagon.

for him true and good info: stop1984now@yahoo.com

     If you look around the ‘net, you’ll find all sorts of garbage like that from Mullah Comic … errr, Mullah Cimoc, rather.

     Dude, yer not funny.  Really.  Stop it.

     Besides, I still know several women with LBT’s who are pretty good cooks, although, I don’t know of any like that from where you are in Utah (which is a long way from Waziristan, Pakistan, last I checked).  Regardless, when they’re not cooking, at least their husbands have something to aim at…

     I arrived at Bailey’s just after 6PM to find Doug McCaughan (of Reality Me!) pulling in at the same time with his son Tommy.   We entered to find Michael Silence (No Silence Here) and Mushy (Mushy’s Moochings and others).
     Over the next few minutes, Tish (The Kat House), Rich Halley (Shots Across the Bow), Les Jones (lesjones.com) and Lissa Kay (Oh… Really?) showed up.

     A little later, the last of us headed to Oak Ridge to see The Atomic Horns at the Eagle’s Club — featuring none other than Barry (Inn of the Last Home) on keyboards.  There aren’t many “full bands” around the area these days, and these guys & gals were really fun — a mixture of soul, rock, disco and funk from the previous thirty years.  The ode to the Blues Brothers was hilarious. 

     Here’s a photo of Tish from The Kat House and Mushy from Mushy’s Moochings, standing there side-by-side, as if they were a couple or something.

     Notably absent: Diva, who messaged me at 11:21PM to ask whether or not these people really existed.  LOL