On this Father’s Day Sabbath, it’s going to be a hot one just like it was yesterday, although…
I hope Billy the Kid has a better cleavage viewing day at the Beer Mine than I did yesterday. My much anticipated cleavage shot day turned out to be a bust.
Anyhoo…
Praise the Holy Baby Jeebus and especially his daddy, Supernatural-G…for it is Father’s Day, and the congregation said, Amen…and Amen.
I dug my dad. He was a funny guy, a hard worker, and with nine kids, a bit of a grump at times, but eh, who wouldn’t be?
He’s been gone quite awhile. I may swing out to his and mom’s gravesites and say, hey. Maybe I’ll take em’ both a beer.
This morning I am going over to see the reason that I get to celebrate Father’s Day, my nearly 16 year old son, Ryno.
Good ol’ Ryno. Size 15 feet and an ego to match. And…the little shit is now a shade taller than I am. He is reveling in that.
He is funny, smart, dedicated to basketball, sensitive to others, and loving. Other than his attention to his school work, or lack thereof, I wouldn’t change a damn thing about him.
He’s a wonderful son…
And an even better daughter…
After I spend some time with Ryno, I shall return to the Bagwine digs, quaff more than a few beers, cook, and color Schmoop’s hair.
We’re trying a different color this time. Instead of Intense Auburn, we are going with Brown Black. It should be interesting…yeah, I’m gay, but only slightly.
After the hair coloring is done, Schmoop and I are going to have hot, sweaty, Father’s Day role playing sex.
I can’t decide whether to go with the Lot and one of his daughters scenario, or Papa John and Mackenzie Phillips.
Either way, I’ll be doing some serious ball slammin’, as I yell, “Who's your Daddy?” Of course…
Since I just typed that out loud, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I am getting laid today.
Larry King would have a better chance of having sex with Schmoop after those remarks.
Be that as it may…To all of you father’s out there…Happy Father’s Day, and tell your mistress or mistresses not to fret.
It’s only one day a year…you can resume your adulterous bangin’ come Monday.
Amen, and Amen.
Cheers!!
It’s the last Saturday of September, and a mere three months ‘til Christmas. Wow, time really gets away from us, doesn’t it?
Anyhoo…
I have but a couple of thoughts before I go to see my adorable, not so little kid this morning.
I don’t watch Dancing with the Stars, but I have for some time, lusted after the zaftig and uber-sexy Cheryl Burke. How I have long dreamed of doing the horizontal mambo with Cheryl. Jeebus Christ, she…is…hot.
However…
I don’t see her in the same light anymore, for my lovely Miss Cheryl has become damaged goods. As many of you know, the cruel and callous producers of DWTS paired her up with former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay.
She has been dancing with him, cajoling him, and worst of all, has touched and been touched by DeLay. Cheryl is now and forever will be…tainted. I am saddened.
Cheryl, I know it’s hard to say good-bye, but I feel that any future we had together has now shuffled off to Buffalo.
I wish I could continue to keep you in my dreams, hold you in my fantasies, and picture you naked while violating my naughty bits, but alas…
You have the creepy and demonic essence of Tom DeLay all over your incredibly beautiful body. Even if you were to get a dozen anti-radiation scrub showers like Meryl Streep received in the movie, Silkwood, it wouldn’t be enough to remove the Tom DeLay from you.
I am sorry Cheryl, but I must end our relationship. Be strong my dear, and please, advise your attorney that he can drop the motion for a protection order against me that he filed on your behalf. Thank you.
One last thing…While I am saddened about losing Cheryl, I am still a lover of love.
Love is a great thing, and this past week we were all made aware of a love story for the ages….the deep and soulful relationship that existed between Mackenzie Phillips and her late father, John Phillips of The Mamas and the Papas.
Not only did they share the joy of a close father/daughter bond, they shared drugs, their bodily fluids, and the story of Lot and his daughters together.
Many people cringed when Mackenzie announced her love affair with her dad, in her book and on Oprah Winfrey’s TV show, but me? I smiled.
I could immediately envision the tender moments of father/daughter love the two shared. I could see them both strung out yet smiling, swimming naked in the warm, soothing waters of a common gene pool.
I could hear John’s balls slamming against Mackenzie’s ass as he forcefully, but lovingly asks, “Who’s your daddy?”
Love is a beautiful thing indeed.
I would like to end this post with a song…a song dedicated to the full and complete love that existed between John and Mackenzie Phillips.
No, I am not going to be crass and play a tune by The Mamas and the Papas, such as I Saw Her Again or Words of Love. No folks, John and Mackenzie’s love wrote its own lyrics. The only thing that these two need in order to complete their song of love, is a melody.
I think I have found it. I hope you enjoy my musical selection and your Saturday as well.
After I spend some time with Ryno, I shall return to the Bagwine digs, quaff more than a few beers, cook, and color Schmoop’s hair.
