<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d10304686\x26blogName\x3dThe+Proverbial+Line\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://scottpatrick.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://scottpatrick.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d4290612211667550638', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
Sunday, December 5, 2004

The Day Her Pussy Exploded...

(Thank Margaret Cho for that graphic description)

Yesterday my high school buddy, Emily, had her baby. I don't know any more details. Her husband, the sweet redneck that he is, sent me a text message before bed last night that said: "hey how are you doing uncle scott...hey em had the baby if you want to call her call tomorrow at the hospital she willl be in for 2 more days." So, I wish I could tell you a name, or something, but I guess he was too tired to type that shit out.

Uncle Scott, I do like the sound of that . . . now too bad my sister hasn't gotten on the ball (so to speak) with her husband and popped out a biological niece or nephew for me.

I can't imagine having a baby...hatching a football through my coochie. Sounds WAYYYY too painful. Actually, to be fair, I kind of do know how it feels, or so my mom tells me.
Last fall I had the pleasure of having a massive kidney stone. Let's just say, I had to have doctors yank a rock twice the size of my pee-hole out with some contraption on a catheter. I got all of the pain of the baby, from the massive pains caused by the stone including contraction-like cramping, and the ripping and tearing feeling of the Death Star being yanked out of my dick. What I didn't get was the beautiful end product of a baby. I deserve a baby, damnit! All I got out of that ordeal was a jagged rock the size of a marble, that I didn't even get to hold, and the ability to pee blood for a week after. Sounds like I got shafted in that deal.

Anywho, despite my bitterness, I will be the most supportive friend and the best damned uncle you'd ever see. I'll spoil the kid rotten.
__________________________

Now on to other news...

The group project that I am working on as a final to my one class has once again proven to be too much for the white-trash momma in my group. The 10-12 page paper is due next Tuesday, and all I got from her was 1 page pile of crap that is 4 days past the deadline. I swear, I am going to kick this bitch's ass if I get the chance. I doubt I will get that chance though. She probably has a husband the size of a buick w/ a massive mullet from the looks of her. I mean, this girl wears sweaters every day that look like they were 1995's blue-light special.

Again.. I digress...

0 Comments:

Post a Comment