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This Bastard reporter went to check out the latest in spa pampering: John Ho’s Tiny Carp Pedicure.
These tiny warm water toothless fish from Turkey have been a huge success in the spa industry.
Said John Ho, “I wiwy woff dees feesh!”
And after he stated this, I found someone who could actually speak fluent English.
Said his Americanized employee, “The people come from all over to have their feet pampered by the fish. They absolutely love it! I get told all the time how wonderful they feel afterward. And how much it tickles!”
When I asked about the future of the Tiny Carp Pedicure, she gave this statement:
“Such as,” I prompted.
“Well,” she continued, “we had several test subjects get into the pool with the Tiny Carp. Most were women. A few men. Gay or sexually confused I’m sure.”
I asked what made her think that the men must be gay or sexually confused.
“Are you serious? Think about it. What straight guy is going to get a pedicure…in a pool with other guys…naked…with a bunch of tiny fish nibbling them?”
“Well, when you have men and women of different ages and different backgrounds, their bodies are all different as well. Some tight in some spots, some loose in spots.”
I told her I didn’t quite follow her, and would she just get to the goddamn point.
She gave me vicious look and hatefully blurted out, “The goddamn fish made their way up the old lady’s saggy pussies and the gay men’s loose assholes! Is that what you wanted to fucking know? Now get out of here you jackass!”
“Oh, shit! Thank you!,” I said, and made my way quickly out the door.
He told me that his mother had gotten wind of the new Tiny Carp Pedicure Salon and that she intended to open her own version as soon as she was financially able.
When I asked what her version of the pedicure would entail, he responded with this:
When I asked him, “What the hell?” He explained it as such:
“Well, her idea is to have several playpen areas with about 20 puppies in each. People will get naked and lay on a mat in the center of the pen and let the puppies lick and nibble their bodies. Oh, and she said that if they have an orgasm, that’s ok, too!
I thanked him for the info, hung up, went into the pub, and drank myself into a stupor.
In this Bastard reporter’s opinion, there are too many sick fucks and not enough good fucks on this planet.
This Bastard reporter traveled to Austin, Texas, to get the scoop on the new wind power project to bring much needed electricity to sprawling urban areas.
“Ya know, folks think ‘bout the Dallas Cowboys and the Texas Longhorns and all the ‘Big Oil’ in these here Southern parts, but, in ‘round 10 ‘er so years, they’ll be stewin’ on the new ‘lectricity this here plan is gonna have for them. That orta put a bee in their bonnets!”
Not speaking ‘Texan’ myself, I simply tried to follow every other word and piece together a reasonable understanding of what he was saying.
I also wrote down the exact words used in this conversation to let you try as well.
When I asked him what the plan is for this new concept for creating electricity, he gave me this answer:
“Well, ya see young man, we’s gonna take all them Congress folks, Demicrats an Publicans alike, long with all the other big wigs and the no count Presydent hisself, and put ‘em all on top those two hills.
Get the Demicrats and whatnots on one hilltop and the Publicans and their whatnots on the othern. Then, we gets them to start bickerin’ back an forth at ones nother ’ bout gay marriage or sums such, and they’ll power them big windmills out there.
Ain’t nothin’ more powerful than the wind comin’ out the mouth of the evil bunch from Worshington! Ain’t no winds blow any harder than what they’s a spewin’!”
When I asked what all this means for the sprawling urban public, he smiled, spit out some of his chewing tobacco, lifted his cowboy hat, scratched his scalp, and turned to look off into the distance for a short while, as he said, “Well….”
After nearly 10 minutes, when he finally turned back to face me, he completed his thought as such:
“I guess it means they’ll be a drawin’ ‘bout somewhere ‘round 18,000 of them there megeewatts. That’s a gonna light up 4 million ‘er so homes ‘round here, ya know? I think that’s a good thang, don’t you? Perty fancy ‘rithmetic, though. Perty fancy.”
“Shore is,” said Drew Thornley, a policy analyst for the organization, as he sat down next to Mr. Woodson.
“But, ya know what?,” Mr. Thornley continued, “The wind don’t blow an the sun don’t shine all the time! We’s gonna hafta still make use of natral reserces. We can’t has perfek weather all the time. Even in Texas!”
“But we sure got the purtiest bluebonnets ya ever did see,” added Mr. Woodson.
I thanked them both, borrowed a handkerchief from Mr. Woodson to wipe his tobacco spit off my shoe, and made my way to the airport.
All in all, this Bastard reporter is truly amazed that inbred southerners can be creative while mentally incompetent at the same time.
This Bastard reporter was pleased to see a new movement today for equality.
Several homosexuals, both men and women, gathered today in the small, lovely, extravagant, but cost efficient and quite modern office of homosexual Attorney Marcus DoOral.
There were also Transgendered, Bisexual, and Asexual men and women and men/women and women/men in attendance.
The order of business? To finally have equality for all Americans: Either give everyone the right to marry whomever (humans, no animals or inanimate objects) they love, or take the right of marriage away from everyone equally.
Attorney Marcus DoOral has written a petition to be signed by all in favor that states:
1. We the Gay, Lesbian, Transgendered, Bisexual, and Asexual People of the United States of America demand the equal human right to same sex marriage.
2. We the Gay, Lesbian, Transgendered, Bisexual, and Asexual People of the United States of America demand that if the equal human right of same sex marriage is denied us, that all heterosexual marriages be null and void henceforth, providing the equality to all human beings of no marriage rights.
3. We the Gay, Lesbian, Transgendered, Bisexual, and Asexual People of the United States of America will provide this petition with the appropriate number of legal American Citizen signatures, henceforth forcing the Supreme Court to make a final ruling going forward or backward. Or neither in the case of the Asexuals.
When this Bastard reporter asked why Asexuals wanted to be included in this petition, Attorney Marcus DoOral responded with this:
“The Asexual People of the United States of America wish to be included in this petition to prove to Bigoted America and the Supreme Court that just because they don’t have sex with anyone else and don’t wish to marry, doesn’t mean it offends them that others do.”
So there you have it. Equality for all.
This Bastard reporter thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the day drinking tea, having cucumber sandwiches, and gossiping with the likes of a few old queens.
It was one the US Government never saw coming. Such an event that would blow the top off the entire Gay Marriage issue.
A happenstance that would completely eradicate the Sally Kern Gay Agenda hoopla.
Born homosexual on Earth. Brought together in Outer Space.
This Bastard reporter gives you the true story of the broken toilet aboard the International Space Station.
Joey A. and Bobby L. met at NASA’s Astronaut Training Camp.
They became much more than just two of the new members of the International Space Station Orbital Mission. They became lovers.
Relayed from the Bridge of the Discovery Space Shuttle, docked with the ISS, to this Bastard reporter in a small, dull little room behind the main office area of NASA, Joey A. and Bobby L. tell their story:
“So, we met at training camp,” said Joey.
“And we couldn’t take our eyes off each other, “ added Bobby.
“We later found out that both of us were afraid to make the first move,” Joey continued. “It was so funny!”
“Yeah,” Bobby began, “it was also because we were both afraid of NASA finding out that we’re homosexuals. And you know the government’s stand on that. Don’t ask don’t tell. What a load of crap. How stupid is that anyway?”
Joey chimed in, “Really stupid!”
“So,” Joey went on, “we decided to keep quiet and talk with each other once in orbit. That way, no one could take us off the mission. Good thinking, huh?”
When this Bastard reporter asked when and how they decided to make the first move and hook up, I got this response:
“Oh, that,” said Bobby, with a little smirk and giggle. “We, um, decided to meet in the shuttle toilet area.”
Laughing now, Joey added, “Uh, yeah, we were kind of, um, responsible for the broken toilet. That was us!”
Holding back his laughter, Bobby continued, “We kind of got a little involved, if you know what I mean. Uh, and, one thing lead to another, and I kind of put my foot in the wrong place. That was all it took. The toilet was broken.”
“So, you see,” Joey said, “we had to contact NASA and get them to send a replacement piece aboard the Discovery.”
“Besides,” Bobby said, “we got really sick of seeing the straight guys put their waist in baggies and toss them out the airlock!”
“It was so gross,” Joey said. “We were like, ‘Why don’t you guys just use the bucket and water like we do? That way you can still flush the thing!’ But, you know how those hetero guys are. Yuck!”
So, there you have it. The truth behind the broken toilet aboard the International Space Station.
When asked what the new gay couple’s plans are when they return to Earth:
“We’re going to get married in California,” Bobby exclaimed.
“And then, we’re going to go to Space Mountain at Disney World in Florida,” Joey blurted ecstatically.
When asked if they would both pose for a picture, they agreed to do so, only if they could wear their space suits and reenact the famous scene from ‘Brokeback Mountain’.
This Bastard reporter agreed.
All in all, this Bastard reporter had a fun and eccentric experience, along with a donut someone left from the morning meeting.