Man, it sure has sucked to be a leftie this last week or so. Outdone by Donny Two Scoops, the single biggest idiot ever to populate the White House (their words).
Gather round my friends and lend an ear, there’s a tale needs to be told. This is the abridged version. For the complete story you’ll need to pony up 50 cent to my publisher.
You see, there was once a man, so big he shook the ground with each mighty step. For a snack he’d eat an entire ox and pick the gristle from his big-as-a-surfboard teeth with the ox horns.
This is a 100% true story that is completely, honestly, 100% on the level with the truth. Estoy siendo honesto, punta maricones. I wouldn’t lie to anyone.
Anonche, en mi cama, I had a vision of a delicious cocktail. Was it the first signs of a budding addiction (it wasn’t)? Was it an implanted memory from our conversation last night (not likely)? Was it a reaction to a brain that will never quite shut off (possibly)? First symptoms of syphilis contracted from your mom (bingo)?
What was this sueno de grandeza? It’s the cocktail to end all cocktails. A swanky, frothy, cream filled bananalicious, stripper referencing libation named the Dicking Bimbo!
Grab yourself a blender and get busy with this recipe:
1 oz vanilla or cake flavored vodka
.5 oz brandy
.5 oz banana liqueur (99 bananas is the best)
1 large, phallic banana
2 oz whipping cream
dash cinnamon
ice
Put everything in your addiction mixer and whip it up! It tastes a little like bananas foster, but with a kick. Alcohol content: 6.8 chads. Stripper names: 2.
My parents recently took a trip to Philadelphia, and all I got was this lousy summer cold that they brought back with them. Well, that and some electronics. But I digress.
I thought I would make a poat about this POS cold that I have, and I did what I always do–I went to YouTube to find some funny nonsense.
