Grampa’s Handy-Dandy Rules for Living, Vol. 6 13 comments

Posted by grampa in grampa's handy-dandy rules for living (Monday July 17, 2006 at 9:41 am)

(Taken from the Gospel according to Yow)

Rule #219:  All a man really needs is beef and friction.

Seriously.

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13 comments for Grampa’s Handy-Dandy Rules for Living, Vol. 6 »

Lab Kat’s Handy-Dandy Rules for Living, Vol 6. (REV):

All a woman really needs is chocolate and a good supply of batteries.

Comment by Lab Kat — Monday.July.17.2006 @ 10:50 am


mmmmmmeat.

Comment by wendykat — Monday.July.17.2006 @ 11:18 am


Ezekiel 23:20. look it up. seriously.

Comment by Boobs Radley — Monday.July.17.2006 @ 12:04 pm


sounds like somebody got laid, after a nice steak dinner

Comment by MamaQ — Monday.July.17.2006 @ 2:05 pm


So the answer to life is…tight pants that fit snugly on your member?

Comment by Michele — Monday.July.17.2006 @ 8:32 pm


Leather pants. With steak sauce.

Comment by grampa — Monday.July.17.2006 @ 9:22 pm


What about friction FROM beef?

Comment by Avatar — Wednesday.July.19.2006 @ 3:12 pm


I’ll fuck anything at this point.

Comment by grampa — Wednesday.July.19.2006 @ 6:42 pm


Anyone ever stuck their dick in a chicken.

Me neither, I’m just sayin’.

Comment by Neqq — Saturday.July.22.2006 @ 1:19 pm


“No gramma! I don’t love you like that anymore.”

One day, Rubberneqq, I’m going to have to write that story. Unless of course you want the honors. It was your house, after all.

Comment by grampa — Saturday.July.22.2006 @ 6:29 pm


Gramps,

Hold up, cowgirl. It was C7, and yes it is the stuff of legend, but when you come down to it, it was just some shitty place we rented in college.

Now this here, THIS is Grampa’s House. A fully-realized virtual thoughtcrime storage facility. Plus, you recently posted quite a strong statement in theoretical support of acid, thus I think that it is actually INCUMBENT upon you to produce a detailed account of all of our interactions with Boner and Striper from apartment C5.

It’ll be tough to accurately describe their latent homosexual tendencies and the distinctive physical traits of each, but I have confidence in you. It’ll be hard to capture in text the conditions under which we became the wire mothers to two human baboons, and escaped their clutches — only to realize we’d left the womens alone with them — but you’ll pull it off somehow.

Several pages also must be devoted to the description of the “Gramma I don’t love you like that any more” sequence. Of course.

I think the final scenes also tell the whole story and support your earlier post, and truly echo the words of Jesus Yow: “It’s a fine life if you don’t weaken.”

There’s us, looking out across an ocean of fog at Indian Point at dawn, having lysergically triumphed yet again, an expansion of our minds and further validation of our soulflexing capabilities, all without contracting any sort of latent hippification. And meanwhile back at the ranch, Striper is naked, huddled under a ratty blanket on his deck, staring into space, rocking back and forth, swamped by an overflowing hallucinogenic gutter.

It’s like, if you can’t abide by rake abuse, stay off the goddam golf course.

Comment by Neqq — Sunday.July.23.2006 @ 9:44 am


Admitting the truth will set you free.

Comment by DrinkJack — Sunday.July.30.2006 @ 5:58 am


Paxil….

Paxil….

Trackback by Paxil. — Wednesday.September.5.2007 @ 6:16 pm


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