Meteoric and ithyphallic
Spattered on September 13, 2026.
You want the lips and the curves, need the whips and the furs? Well, so do I.
A mole of naked mole rats lurked in burrows beneath my garden. They’ve been eating my tomacco plants all year. I’ve been killing them all year. One at a time. But with that many moles—a mole o’ moles!—I would need to do a lot more! I picked up a mole of molicide from the Spend-O-Mart. It wasn’t nearly enough. I was flummoxed. I was flabbergasted. I gave up. (I always do.)
A question: Why are rises described so often as “meteoric”? Meteors don’t rise—they fall from the sky. Perhaps a rise would be better described as “volcanic.” Or “ithyphallic.”
Britney Spears trussed up in my closet—that popped into my mind right then. (It literally entered my brainpan with a loud, sonorous pop!) Sometimes I hate my intrusive thoughts. Sometimes I love them. This one fell into the latter bucket.
In all my years on doG’s green Earth, I’ve never given my penis a name. This goes on no longer! So I named him “Peenee.” It seemed like a good name at the time.
A naked mole rat crashed through the window at that very moment. I forgot what I was doing. I grabbed my flamethrower and blasted away. But the mole escaped. I’m happy to report however that Peenee suffered no injuries.
You want the lips and the curves, need the whips and the furs? Well, so do I.