Now that my fit of rage has been sated by drinking the blood of my enemies then throwing it up all over their front step, I shall attempt my introductory post again.
I just don't care if I offend you. There's precious little, other than my husband saying I have muffin-top in my underwear, which is just unnecessary, that even mildly milks my offense teat. I disagree with lots and will just plain say so, and I will discuss with anyone why I form the opinions I have. Growth comes from expressing your perspective and having it turned upside down, sometimes gang-raped, and then evaluating the remnants. So, if you aren't prepared for your ideals to take a big, throbbing love-truth up fart box, check out now.
So, you're still here. Interesting. Well then, without delay...
I had other terms, but I shall address those at another time. For tonight, the origin story.
Imagine for me that you have been collecting vagina goop samples for about a week. Take those samples, beat them into a smooth butter. Now, imagine frosting someone's face with that non-dairy topping. You saw it didn't you? Someone particular's face, someone you would consider basting with your tuna-tapenade. That person is a twatwaffle. Someone you would ruin your mixer and potentially your career for in that glorious way is the very definition of the word, and the inspiration for this blog. My intention is to give voice to all the beaver butter recipes of justice so that one day we can, together, find a way to humorously and legally deal with those who would waffle our twats.
No comments:
Post a Comment