I kind of screwed myself by posting the most awesome Thanksgiving Day post EVER last year.
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.
Bewbs trump wieners every time, my friends.
And yes, that is Percy at the station. Or, as my son might say, “Pussy is wooking weally hawd today!”
Happy Thanksgiving, Ya’ll. May all your train tracks be bewbies.
I know I’m supposed to publish a post about cheesy things I’m thankful for, but instead, you get penis train tracks. You’re welcome.
Why I should not be allowed to play with children’s toys in the presence of actual children:
I’ll have you know that I used every single piece of track that we have to build this masterpiece. And yes. I’M PROUD.
I like to call it Thomas’s Hard Day or Where Thomas Gets Off.
Oh, shut up. It’s funny, and you know it.
And the truth is, while I’d like to say I did this on purpose, it was actually a happy (?) accident. I noticed it when I stepped back later.
Suck on that, Freud.
(Hahaha, I said SUCK, get it? Oh yeah.)
PS: I’m thankful for a LOT. Like them, and us, and you.
And schlongs. (you knew it was coming back again, right?)
Happy Thanksgiving, you crazy kids.