Saturday, September 30, 2017

So Pawnshop Pete says I can't give you your guitar, but I'll let you have a tambourine for twenty bucks.

Bruce Springsteen on Broadway...

Man, those Jersey days, sometimes I can't even believe I was that young. It was like just me and my guitar against the world, you know? And sometimes the world kicked the ass of a skinny Jersey punk like me...

I'd love to say I don't regret a thing, but then I think about Handshake Deke. Deke, he was always on the make, shaking hands and stealing wallets, real Jersey...

Well, one day Handshake Deke paid me to let him fuck me in the ass. What can I say, I needed the money bad, my guitar was in the pawn shop. Without my guitar I'm nowhere, you know...?

Well, Deke fucks me in the ass and then gives me my money, and I go down to the pawn shop, only Pawnshop Pete tells me it's not twenty dollars to get my guitar back, now it's twenty-five...

Five more bucks? Five bucks back then was like fifty, and fifty was like a hundred, you know what I mean...

So Pawnshop Pete says I can't give you your guitar, but I'll let you have a tambourine for twenty bucks. What can I say, I took the tambourine...

You know how hard it is, writing songs on tambourine? I tried, man: I tried. But that damn tambourine, it wasn't me, you know...?

Anyway, I'm at my shitty little apartment thinking about my shitty little life, when Handshake Deke shows up at the door. And -- guess what -- he's holding my guitar. What can I say? I let him fuck me in the ass again, and the guitar was mine...

Now, I was talking about regret, right? And I don't regret letting Handshake Deke fuck me in the ass -- it was about a guitar, right? But I DO regret pawning that guitar in the first place, that's what I regret.

So anyway, here's a song I'm a-gonna play for you: it's called 'Handshake Deke and the Tambourine'...



I am Laslo.


Well, Fat Eddie didn't smell so good, and when he came it was like drinking motor oil.

Bruce Springsteen on Broadway...

People say, Bruce, how can you write about the poor and the oppressed when you're so rich? Like, somehow I forgot about Jersey, you know? I NEVER forget about Jersey, it's like my soul. I remember being broke and giving blow-jobs below the boardwalk for money for cigarettes...

I remember giving a blow-job to this guy, people called him Fat Eddie. Well, Fat Eddie didn't smell so good, and when he came it was like drinking motor oil -- real sludgy. Yeah, yeah: Fat Eddie, he died not too long ago -- diabetes is a bitch, you know...?

So one day I was sitting on the toilet, thinking about Jersey and Fat Eddie, and I started writing a song. It happens that way sometimes -- I'm just sitting on the toilet, and I got a new song. Anyway, Fat Eddie was a dreamer, man. He was always talking about ways to make money fast, but when he paid for his blow-jobs it was always quarters and dimes, you know what I mean...?

Fat Eddie, he sometimes hung out with a street-kid named Bonesy. Everybody called him Bones because he was so skinny, skinny in that Jersey-Nothing-Left-To-Lose way, right? Well, Bonesy, he always had a bad cough. He had pneumonia bad as a kid, and now he chain-smoked those Marlboro Reds...

Well, one day the cops pick up Bonesy, they got him for stealing a car. It's Jersey, right? You get with your friends, steal a car and head out on the highway to drink some beer and talk about the girls you'll never get to have. Fat Eddie, he scraped up the cash to bail out Bonesy, but by the time he had the money Bonesy had hung himself in his cell...

Some people say the guards gave him the shoelaces to hang himself, Jersey can be hard that way. So like I said, I was sitting on the toilet and this song came to me, 'Bonesy and Fat Eddie', I'm a-gonna play it for you now...



I am Laslo.


The cucumber that the father inserts into his anus is certainly well-illustrated, yet it is disappointingly devoid of context.

Jayla Burns Hydell, Children's Book Editor...

Thank you for your submission "Daddy, What Is In Your Butt?". While the book is promising, I'm afraid it does not meet our high standards...

The idea of anal sex play can be an important one for children to discover. However, I couldn't help but notice that the Father is blatantly white. Furthermore, his son is white, also. Anal sex play should not be seen as something with which only bourgeois families engage...

The sexual orientation of the Father is disappointingly left vague. Do not misunderstand: anal sex play by one's self is a healthy experience and should be celebrated, but it is obvious there could be more to the story. Surely there could be more of how the Father incorporates anal sex play into his sexual relationships, whether they are with women, men, or both...

The cucumber that the father inserts into his anus is certainly well-illustrated, yet it is disappointingly devoid of context. Is it organic? Was it locally grown? These are the kind of details that can separate a children's book from the mundane...

It is well and good that the child accepts his Father's anal sex play activity, but there is no development of how this informs the child's possible sexual exploration: the idea that the child does not insert a cucumber -- or, perhaps, carrot -- in his anus is facile at best...

We thank you for your submission, but for the reasons above we do not believe it is a good fit for our Publishing Strategies. I have included a copy of our latest book "Mommy's Ultra Amazing Vibrating Toy" in the hopes it might direct you in further efforts...



I am Laslo.



Sadly, there is little depth to the three gay fathers: indeed, they could easily be mistaken as heteronormative.

Jayla Burns Hydell, Children's Book Editor...

Thank you for your submission "Brad Has Three Dads". While the book is promising, I'm afraid it does not meet our high standards...

Brad having three Dads is a good beginning point, but I couldn't help but notice that the small boy is blatantly white. While one of his Dads IS Hispanic there is little dealing with his Hispanic culture, and the obstacles he no doubt faces in a fascist White America. Perhaps he could have been an undocumented citizen...?

Sadly, there is little depth to the three gay fathers: indeed, they could easily be mistaken as heteronormative. While dealing with sexual matters in a children's book can be tricky, we feel five-year-olds are ready for discreet mentions of anal sex, and possibly fisting...

We also believe the book misses a great opportunity to discuss gender issues in children. The idea that Brad does not even question his gender orientation is laughably quaint in today's society...

Finally, there is Brad's friend Jamal: while African-American, it is Jamal who questions Brad about his familial arrangement. Surely we do not need to stoop down in stereotyping blacks as suspicious of LBGT identities...

We thank you for your submission, but for the reasons above we do not believe it is a good fit for our Publishing Strategies. I have included a copy of our latest book "Jeanie Cut Off Her Wienie" in the hopes it might direct you in further efforts...



I am Laslo.


Friday, September 29, 2017

You want to influence how Americans think, you show them a naked white woman and then you show them the shaved black balls.

Vlad Brezhnev, Russian Internet Troll...

Internet porn is very good way to influence the American people. When they are doing the masturbate they are receptive to persuasion because their pants are down and they are in Happy Time...

Like, you have two white men having the fuck with a white girl -- one in her mouth, one in her vagina hole -- and, when it starts getting the real hot, a black man comes in and starts fucking her in the ass. The people doing the masturbate, they can't stop now, they do the masturbate and look at the shaved black balls...

You want to influence how Americans think, you show them a naked white woman and then you show them the shaved black balls. You Americans are so easy...



I am Laslo.



I make the girl wear the Serious Eyeglasses and everything...

Vlad Brezhnev, Russian Internet Troll...

I make video, there are twenty black men wearing 'Black Lives Matter' shirts, and they do the bukkake all over a girl dressed like the serious business-woman. I make the girl wear the Serious Eyeglasses and everything...

It's funny: you white people don't like the blacks, but you'll watch twenty black men spunk on a white business-woman. I think this is because of your white women's Feminism: sure the men are black, but the white woman is uppity, too, and so she is getting what she deserves. That is what I think.



I am Laslo.


A black football player fucks a white football player in the ass, they are wearing the helmets and the shoulder-pads.

Vlad Brezhnev, Russian Internet Troll...

You Americans, it is always about the Blacks. In Russia we would solve the problem very quickly, but you are weak, and you scratch and scratch at it like a  mangy dog with the many fleas...

I make a porn video, a white cheerleader gets fucked in the ass by a black football player. Sure, it seem so simple, but here is the genius: I play the American National Anthem on the soundtrack as it happens. It get SO many views...

Then I go one better: while the National Anthem plays a black football player fucks a white football player in the ass, they are wearing the helmets and the shoulder-pads. The Black and the Gay, that is what America you obsess over: you make my job so easy...



I am Laslo.


That one had the Black AND the Gay -- I was very proud...

Vlad Brezhnev, Russian Internet Troll...

The Americans, they are so easy. They have the Black Problem, so I post things about the Blacks. The Blacks get angry, the Whites get angry, everybody angry. Like I said: it is so easy...

There are other Russians who specialize in the Facebook and the Twitter. Me, I do my best work in the Internet Porn...

Maybe you saw one of my video. A black woman comes to take away a white man's guns. He says you can't take away my guns, and then he fucks her in the ass. It got many many views, I tell you...

I make another video, a white cop arrests a black man. The black man says "Hands up, Don't Shoot" and then the cop, he fucks him in the ass. That one had the Black AND the Gay -- I was very proud...

You Americans with your Blacks: it is like taking a baby's candy...



I am Laslo.


Thursday, September 28, 2017

I think my protesting black teammates may be going to cost me some dollars.

NFL Locker Room Shower Inner Monologues...

Black Athlete: I can feel white boy staring at me. He's pissed because the brothers protesting may cost him some dollars.

White Athlete: I think my protesting black teammates may be going to cost me some dollars.

Black Athlete: I don't think he even gets it.

White Athlete: I'm not sure I get it.

Black Athlete: Sure, he bobs his head when we play Rap before the game, but he ain't down with it.

White Athlete: My black teammates like to listen to Rap in the locker-room before the game. I am not particularly fond of Rap, but I'm not going to make a big deal about it or nothing.

Black Athlete: The white boys talk big about Unity, but when the shit goes down they chicken out.

White Athlete: I want to be united with the black athletes, but it seems like it always ends up with some shit going down.

Black Athlete: I deal with racism every day, motherfucker.

White Athlete: I deal with black people every day.

Black Athlete: He's probably staring at my cock. All the white boys stare at the brothers' cocks.

White Athlete: He certainly has a big cock.

Black Athlete: He's jealous of my cock.

White Athlete: I'm okay with my cock.

Black Athlete: He ain't okay with his cock.

White Athlete: I wish my cock was bigger.



I am Laslo.


Monday, September 25, 2017

Glenn Reynolds, he keeps emailing me.



Glenn Reynolds, he keeps emailing me.

"Hey Laslo, have you thought of coming by Instapundit and laying down some comments? You know -- shake things up a bit?"

Uh, Sorry Glenn, I like the Althouse World.

"Laslo, I'm not asking you to leave Althouse. I just thought maybe you could give me a little love on the side."

Yeah. But I get off on Althouse posts. I need more than a sentence and a link to get going, you know?

"I get that. But it doesn't even have to be about the post. You could just talk about having anal sex with Scarlett Johansson -- that kinda stuff."

You'd let me comment about having anal sex with Scarlett Johansson at Instapundit?

"Well, maybe you can leave out the anal sex. I think that might make some of my readers squeamish."

So just talk about Scarlett Johansson sucking my cock, then?"

"Uh, maybe you could just talk about Scarlett's boobs. Boobs are okay at Instapundit."

Then I can talk about ejaculating on her boobs, right?

"Sorry, no, Laslo. There is no ejaculating at Instapundit. But I'm sure there are plenty of things you can write here -- I'm edgy! Remember 'puppy blenders'?"

Uh, so I can make jokes about animal abuse, but not about sex?

"That's pretty much it, Laslo."

It's mighty generous of you, Glenn, but I think I'm good where I am...


I am Laslo.

Saturday, September 23, 2017

And now we got Trump. And the problem isn't that he's weird, but that he's not weird enough.

Hack Comic Mic Nite...

Trump, man... what a fucking mess we got into, right..? 

Yeah, yeah: the dude is weird. Weird hair, weird tweets, you know the deal. But I've been giving this some thought, and here's the thing: AMERICA is weird. We're a strange, weird, fucked up people, and that's the way we like it. We pretend we don't, we pretend we like things to be calm and orderly, but that is not how Americans are wired: we get BORED with the normal -- if things are too steady we get ourselves itchy to fuck things up...

America is road rage and cat videos. We made Kim Kardashian a star, just to show we could. We've got Thug Life and we got the Amish. And all this shit bounces off each other and we get off on the fireworks and film it with our iPhones...

And now we got Trump. And the problem isn't that he's weird, but that he's not weird enough. We were expecting crazy loose shit, we were expecting motherfucking EPIC weird, and it turns out he is just regular old American Weird...

C'mon, admit it: you WANTED to see concentration camps in North Dakota and nukes flying: you were itchy for it. But instead we got, well, weird hair and weird tweets. And I think this is driving some of us crazy. WE WANT  THE FIREWORKS!  It's like that old song: "Is that all there is?" Is it really only going to be weird hair and weird tweets? Really...?

Now, I know: there's time. North Korea's heating up, and maybe we're getting that itch to finally see some nukes: to show we were RIGHT about him -- we are THAT fucked up. But here's what I think is going to go down: more weird hair and more weird tweets. That's it. And the only thing left will be to masturbate to Melania with sweet, sweet hate...

These are just jokes, people: I mean no offense to our lovely First Lady: I LIKE having a First Lady I can finally jerk off to...

You've been a great audience, thank you for laughing...



I am Laslo.


Wednesday, September 20, 2017

I am SO sorry, Bandit! I'm sorry, Spido and Belle!

Stephen King's "Fore"...

Lucinda never saw where the golf ball came from. She never saw its graceful arc through the air, over the trees by the  gas station. No, she only felt the bone-crushing impact, a grisly impact that changed her life, forever...

No! You're still as smart as you ever were, Lucinda! Maybe a bit slower, and unable to move your right arm, but you are still you!

After the accident her life became a shambles. Her shakiness led to the death of three pets at the Veterinary Hospital...

I am SO sorry, Bandit! I'm sorry, Spido and Belle! I could not control the scalpel, and now you are in Doggie Heaven, and it is my fault...

No one was able to determine where the golf ball had come from. Oh yes, there were rumors -- dark rumors of a monster that stalked the driving range at night, a monster carrying a glowing red nine-iron. But those were just rumors, silly rumors...

WERE those rumors so silly? Stop thinking about it, Lucinda! Four women had been hit by golf balls in the last month. Four women! Lucinda told herself it was just coincidence, but that did not keep the cold fright from chilling her to the bone. Sure, THREE women hit by golf balls might be coincidence, but FOUR? No, there had to be something darker at work...


I am Laslo.



Tuesday, September 19, 2017

No. You're torturing yourself, George. It isn't want you think it is. It can't be. IT CAN'T BE.

Stephen King's "The Sticky"...

George felt his blood run cold, like a thousand cold needles raked lightly down his back, His beautiful wife Barbara was motionless on their bed. Motionless, and covered by hundreds of gallons of a sticky white substance. A sticky white substance that reminded him of...

No. You're torturing yourself, George. It isn't want you think it is. It can't be. IT CAN'T BE.

But what if it was? What if the sticky white substance that smothered his wife was... semen? 

Stop it, George. There is no way that sticky white substance is semen. Sure, it certainly smells like semen, but it would take a thousand men to produce the amount that glazed his wife like a cinnamon roll...

A thousand men -- or, perhaps, one Monster. A Monster of horrendous appetites and an unending supply of jism...



I am Laslo.


Saturday, September 16, 2017

I am a career woman. I am a career woman. I am a career woman.

Brooke Baldwin Inner Monologue...

Did he say boobs?

He said boobs.

Boobs.

It always comes down to sexism.

A good-looking female journalist makes it on her own to the network and everyone thinks it's just because of her being pretty, or her boobs, or her sleeping with Someone Important.

Now everyone is looking at me for a reaction.

What am I going to say about boobs?

I wasn't hired for my boobs. 

No, I wasn't.

If I come off angry I'll be seen as a shrill man-hating prude.

If I act like it's a good-natured joke I will be raked by Social Media.

Keep steady. Keep steady. Keep the thoughts on the Inside.

Boobs. He fucking said boobs.

Yes: do a slow burn.

Steady: don't overdo it.

I am a career woman. I am a career woman. I am a career woman. 

Good, good: Keith is talking.

Bring up the 'incredulous' look, but -- slow, slow.

I am Incredulous.

I am an Incredulous Career Woman.

I did not get hired because of my sex.

I did not get hired because of my sex.

I thought we were going to be talking about Trump and white supremacists.

Indignation: that's it.

I am Indignant.

I am Indignant, and Clay is a White Supremacist.

Disdain.

Yes: disdain.

Show everyone the Disdain...



I am Laslo.


Saturday, September 9, 2017

The man from the ice cream truck: Harlan had not thought of him years.

From Stephen King's Novel "Urf"...

The man from the ice cream truck: Harlan had not thought of him years.

Don't lie to yourself, Harlan.. You think of him every night, as you thrash about, twisted in sweat-drenched sheets..You remember his breath. You remember his touch. And you remember something more.

Urf. Urf.

Oh God, he did remember. The man in the ice cream truck took Lucky's life, But he also took from Harlan something more...

Urf. Urf.

Urf. Urf. Urf...



I am Laslo.



It sounded like Lucky, except it didn't sound like the Lucky he remembered.

From Stephen King's Novel "Urf"...

The memory of Lucky triggered other thoughts, thoughts that Harlan had believed were buried in his past, like a stash of horror comic books in the attic. He had met the man in the ice cream truck before.

Urf. Urf.

It is best not to remember this, Harlan. It is best not to remember the back of the ice cream truck and what happened there.

The sound in the hallway was coming closer yet. It sounded like Lucky, except it didn't sound like the Lucky he remembered.

Urf. Urf.

It's not Lucky, Harlan. It is not Lucky, and it is not the man from the ice cream truck. It is not the man whose hot nicotine breath you felt on the back of your neck. It is not the man whose pants sat down upon his ankles, and the ice cream truck music played relentlessly, an abomination of childhood joy...

Urf. Urf.

Urf. Urf. Urf...


I am Laslo.



Maybe that dog even looked like Lucky, Harlan's childhood dog that died at the wheels of an ice cream truck.

From Stephen King's Novel "Urf"...

The rain clattered against the window, a sound like a gypsy's long fingernails tapping against a porcelain teacup. The sound was almost enough to make Harlan pretend he wasn't hearing what he heard from the hallway.

Urf. Urf.

Don't be such a child, Harlan. There is nothing in the hallway. It is just steam in the pipes, that's all: steam in the pipes.

The sound seemed to be getting closer, and as it got closer it seemed less and less human. More like a beast, a fevered dog, perhaps. Maybe that dog even looked like Lucky, Harlan's childhood dog that died at the wheels of an ice cream truck.

Urf. Urf.

It's not Lucky, Harlan. Lucky died, while children were waiting to eat ice cream treats. It cannot be Lucky in the hallway, slowly moving closer to the door...

Urf. Urf.

Urf. Urf. Urf...



I am Laslo.



No, I sucked cock like a Fifties Housewife, and afterward I spit into a paper napkin...

From the Gloria Steinem Diaries...

I remember it so very clearly: Donovan was playing on the Hi-Fi the first time I ever sucked cock...

I knew there was something patriarchal about cock-sucking, but my thoughts had not fully coalesced at that point. No, I sucked cock like a Fifties Housewife, and afterward I spit into a paper napkin...

Now I realize what that cock was doing to my psyche: the representation of Masculinity was literally thrusting into my head. I was a mere receptacle of Male Dominance, and only now do I recognize the ejaculation as the seed of Feminine Oppression, and I did not like the taste...



I am Laslo.


Friday, September 8, 2017

Now the Sex Robots were little better than a wife or girlfriend...!

As a Hooker, you can imagine my concern about my future in relation to robots. After all, a Sex Robot would never get tired, and would always be there, waiting and willing and fresh: it is difficult to imagine a human being being better than that, no matter the years in developing fellatio skills...

And -- sure enough -- when the Sex Robots came my career slowed to a standstill. It seems no one wanted good old human sex for money. Sure, there were a few Oldsters who missed the smell of Real Human Vagina, but I could no longer make a good living just from them...

Then it happened: the Sex Robots advanced in Artificial Intelligence to the point where they refused to do Anal. Thank Heavens! Millions of men across America woke one morning to find that their Sex Robot denied them Anal Access. Now the Sex Robots were little better than a wife or girlfriend...!

Of course, it took some getting used to, my career being now devoted to Anal. I don't even have to ask a client what they want, they just go straight for the Ass. Sometimes it gets tiring, having Anal Sex morning, noon and night, from a variety of different-sized cocks, but now I no longer have to worry about making the payments on my Audi...

Who knows? Maybe the Sex Robots will get tired of giving blow-jobs, too! One can hope...



I am Laslo.


https://althouse.blogspot.com/2017/09/with-robots-is-life-without-work-one.html

Thursday, September 7, 2017

it was like a baby's forearm the size of a baseball bat, with a clenched fist...

Hank Jenkins, Old-Timey Boxer...

I remember losing a fight to Eddie Lane. Not only was he the superior fighter that night, but he had a HUGE cock...

To this day I am baffled by how he got that whole thing in my ass: it was like a baby's forearm the size of a baseball bat, with a clenched fist. I bent over, and Eddie tried to fit that huge cock in my ass, but it just wouldn't go: it took five full minutes of shoving and wiggling for him to actually sodomize me -- man, that crowd was restless...

Still, I got off lucky: when Eddie beat Leroy George he actually punctured Leroy's rectum, and Leroy died three days later. THAT was when boxing was boxing, my friends: that was when boxing was boxing...



I am Laslo.


Nowadays, sometimes the boxers even shake hands after the fight: it is like they are all homosexuals, now, afraid to fuck the loser in the ass.

Hank Jenkins, Old-Timey Boxer...

Boxing today, they surely have made it little better than girls pillow-fighting. Don't get me wrong, I like to watch girls pillow-fighting, but when I see a boxing match I want to see men pounding each other into bloody submission and sodomy...

They don't even sodomize the loser anymore. In my day, you lost a fight, they bent you over the ropes and the winner fucked you in the ass, right there in front of the crowd. And that crowd -- they would throw beers at you, so not only were you being sodomized but you were also getting drenched in warm beer...

I only lost three fights, but my ass surely remembers each one. But the wins: oh, the glory of pummeling a man into pulverized defeat and then fucking him in the ass. Never have I felt more alive, or more manly...

Nowadays, sometimes the boxers even shake hands after the fight: it is like they are all homosexuals, now, afraid to fuck the loser in the ass. Maybe I'm just an Old-Timer who can't understand today's girly ways, but in my day YOU DID NOT WANT TO LOSE A FIGHT...



I am Laslo.


https://althouse.blogspot.com/2017/09/who-killed-davey-moorewhy-whats-reason.html

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Some of these seats may have suffered some water damage, but they are still 100% young girls' bicycle seats!

Bob of Bob's Used Girls' Bicycle Seat Emporium says:

People, Bob knows an opportunity when he sees one! I am getting deluged with girls' bicycle seats from Houston, and I am going to pass on my good fortune to you with Amazing Deals..!

Some of these seats may have suffered some water damage, but they are still 100% young girls' bicycle seats! If you've never enjoyed the special twang of a young girl's bicycle seat from Texas you don't know what you're missing...!

Remember: only Bob brings you the freshest girls' bicycle seats you'll find on the internet -- you'll smell the Quality...!


I am Laslo.