And maybe I went a leetle bit overboard on the “description” when I repinned it.

and the princess didn’t have her heart broken by a man who couldn’t keep his dick to himself for more than five seconds because she was smart enough to say no to the pretty face that was hiding the vile creature behind it. And she had all the time in the world to then pursue her own interests and be the person she was meant to be, reveling in her identity and fulfilling her aspirations fully. She spent as much time as she wanted with the best girlfriends who always built her up and cared about what she was saying rather than pretending to listen and hoping she was soon done. And she hand selected the finest young men to keep her company (and then sent them on their way when she was bored with them) and she read books and made beautiful art and sun bathed and nobody ever left the fucking toilet seat up or made her have to drag their feelings out of them like driving nails into brick because they were such poor communicators that she just wanted to scream into infinity in those miserable moments of complete relationship hell when she would rather be twirling through the living room, singing her favorite song at top volume. She didn’t have to share the remote or watch any sports she didn’t want to, and she only got foot rubs with her pedicures and nobody expected her to have sex with them just for doing it. She smiled every day because she wanted to, not because she was pretending she was happy, and nobody needed her to fetch them a beer or make their food first so that by the time she ate hers it was cold. She played with lady bugs and stopped to smell the flowers every day. Her friends and family thought she was fucking awesome because she was able to live her life to her full potential instead of for some loser who resented her for not wanting him to drink jack daniels every fucking night. And she never had to sleep in the goddamned wet spot. THE END.

Yeah, maybe a little too far.

Maybe.

(Who am I kidding?! That shit had it coming.)

What?  Hey, I can guarantee you that there is some serious wrecking with the alcohol going on right about the time this here beauty publishes.

Here’s hoping that 2011 will bring to all of you the things you most desire from it, anything you didn’t find (but wanted) in 2010, and also… lots of cheese. (You can never have too much cheese.)

Remember too, that all the low points your year is bound to have will only serve to create stark contrast with the great joys you are sure to experience.

May we all be able to focus more greatly on the latter.

Happy 2011, Y’all.

I mean, now that you’ve seen penis train tracks, you’re back this year to see what I have for you this time, aren’t you? Of course you are. I bet you sat up all night wondering. Have you been refreshing my page over and over again? Well, I mean, even more than usual?

(Your Thanksgiving present to me is that you pretend that’s true instead of reminding me that you only check here about once every 6 months, and only to see if I’ve died a comically tragic death yet in a horrible (but hilarious) accident involving a staple gun, a bungee cord and a day-glo green thong.)

So how do you follow penis train tracks? Like this.

And yes, that is Percy at the station.  Or, as my son might say, “Pussy is wooking weally hawd today!”

What the hell, Raw Honey…

YOU’RE EMPTY?

Why would you toy with me so, Raw Honey? Why would you sit there, practically beckoning to me with your sweet, delicious Raw Honeyness… and then… and then… be… EMTPY?

How cruel you are, Raw Honey!

How. Very. Cruel.  You have hurt me deeply, Raw Honey.

*deep, heavy sobs*

What is that you say, Raw Honey?  You mean, you didn’t do this to me on purpose?  You say it was beyond your control, Raw Honey?  You were just sitting there, being Raw Honey and someone came along and emptied all the delicious Raw and sweet Honey inside of you out?

You are telling me that someone scraped you clean, selfishly enjoying every last drop of you, Raw Honey?  Someone didn’t share you, but just ate you all in private?  Someone ELSE did this to you and then PUT. YOU. BACK?

Just to fool me?

What is that you say, Raw Honey? Yes, Raw Honey, you are right, I *am* feeling rather stabby.

Don’t worry, Raw Honey.  I’ll get even.  I make all the meals around here after all, right, Raw Honey? People eat what I prepare, without question.

Hahahaha.

What is that, Raw Honey? You say there’s a funny tone to my laugh?  Oh, Raw Honey, just ignore that.  Everything is just fine.  I am in a peaceful state, don’t you worry.  Just overlook the strange new element in my laughter, Raw Honey.  I promise, I’m okay.  You just rest.  Shhh, shhhh, now, Raw Honey.

Someone else better watch his Raw Honey Thieving, Trickin’ a Bitch Ass, though, Raw Honey.

But you?  You just sleep now, Raw Honey. Shhhh.

Shhhhhhh.