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Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Sun, sex

Sun worshippers at least can see and feel their God. Also, they get what they pray for, as long as that's improved mood, brownness, skin cancer, and to be forsaken in winter.

My friend, drunk during the middle of the day, despite my empty threats, insists on calling me a heliosexual, which he knows bothers me because my penis is only ninety-two million miles long (and, as you may have guessed, a fraction of a millimeter wide). I'm deathly afraid of space junk and Venus.

I love Spring. And Sun, if you want to move a million miles closer, I think you're really hot. And I'm not just saying that. It's science.
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3 Comments:

Blogger jorg wobblington lopez said...

Venus rhymes with penis. Thats why women are from Mars, because they don't have penises and Mars sounds like vagina if you say it correctly.

10:09 AM  
Blogger patguy said...

Face it. Your freak penis will never reach the sun. Your best best is to rent it out as a tether for the proposed space elevator. It'll be like some sort of bizarre, high-tech mechanical handjob.

10:57 AM  
Blogger amadea's world said...

Spring is the nature's way saying "Let's party", Robin Williams

12:41 PM  

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