What an exsquisite pair of socks!

I can't stop staring at them.  I betcha he has a chest of drawers full of socks just like 'em.  And I betcha he has a great pair of boots too. Just all around refreshing, right?

On another note, so looking forward to spring so I can fill my lungs with fresh air!  Not sure what made me think of that.  Spring must be in the air.

Jesus and the Whore

On a VERY crowded subway platform the other morning this crabby ass looking lady came walking in my general direction and screamed, "JESUS CHRIST get out of the way!" I looked up from my paper and simply said the word WHORE. Essentially calling her it without actually calling her it. She stopped dead in her tracks. I turned and said, "Hey, you called me Jesus Christ!" She walked away.

Spooning with the Homeless

I thought of a new movement. It's kinda like Hands Across America , but it's more charitable. It's called Spooning with the Homeless. It's more than just a mere handout, it's giving your ENTIRE body. It came to me one moonlit night on my home after being out for a while, and maybe I was feeling a bit amorous - I don't know - but right in front of my very eyes in the middle of the sidewalk was the most soiled mattress that someone was ACTUALLY throwing away! Well laying on that mattress was a homeless guy, but he had a cast on his foot. I thought to myself, "now that's refreshing." It was nice to see he was getting the medical attention he deserved, but I remember thinking "I'd bet all the money in my wallet that the one thing he was most starved for was affection." So, as the bittersweet smell of urine from days passed scented the crisp air, I kittenishly curled up to him - from behind - wrapped my arm around his body and nuzzled my nose right into the bloody scab on the back of his head, and passed out! I was drunk. I was blind drunk. When daybreak came, I woke up alone with an empty wallet and a tattered note nearby that read GET OFF MY ASS! And I thought, "oh darn it, he must have forgotten his to do list."

I tried to find a funny homeless picture, but guess what? Homeless pictures are not funny. Not at all.

Fartha Pooart Says...Put a Pickle in it!

By the by, this character - if you will - is still in development, and I really feel like Fartha is a lady. Don't you? We can all certainly agree that the name itself exudes dainty femininity, but the advice - the wisdom and the knowledge - she doles in dollops is nothing less than exquisite elegance. Inn't dat right fellas? (And I don't care if you're of the female persuasion, you're all fellas when you're reading Fartha; neanderthals in need of necessary refinement, FYI.)

Now that we got that cleared up, what did Fartha Pooart say again? Oh yeah. "Put a pickle in it!" This isn't Dr. Pooth (ha ha, good one), and we're not talking about your sex life, so just for one single second, fellas, take your minds from out of the gutter and put them in the kitchen. I read somewhere once that anybody who's anyone keeps a jar of pickles in their fridge just in case. Okay, I made that part up, but it seems to lend a bit of extra credibility.

I'm about to introduce you to what I've come to call Pasta Pickle-vera. Recently I was making pasta with spicy marina. Yeah, it was spicy, but it was still snoozeville. I searched high and low to find a little extra something that I could add to bedazzle my meal. I found the pickle. Claussen. Whole. Garlic. Dill. I diced that sucker up like a regular Lorena Bobbit and threw it in the sauce. I have to tell ya, fellas, I was pretty darned pleased. It added taste and gave it a bit of crunch. Pizazzle dazzle! Now go. Pickle something of your very own. You're welcoooome!

(Click on the pickle pic. That's a big pickle pic!)

The Other L Word

Earlier today Ruth and I were chatting and she happened to mention that her cleaning lady just told her she loved her. I said to Ruth, "well...ask her to sleep over then!" (Cue spit take!) She went on to tell me that to avoid the awkwardness she told her she loved her back. She went on to further say that a co-worker overheard her saying on the phone "I love you too" then she proceeded to mouth the words to said co-worker "oh, it's my cleaning lady." For some reason this makes me howl with laughter. One, her cleaning lady - HER CLEANING LADY - telling her she loves her. And two, to AVOID the awkwardness she says it back. And finally three, what in the hell does her co-worker think of all this? Is it just me or can this whole situation get extremely awkward, right quick? Any which way, for some reason I love it. I love it almost as much as this picture of Ruth's cleaning lady. (Go ahead, click on it so you can get a rur-ral good look at it. Rur-ral good!)

Here's a homework assignment. Not to be done at work! Google "sexy cleaning lady" and if you get the same image search results as I did, you're in for a big surprise. If you don't, then oh wellz.

(NSFW answer here. Hey. Don't look at me. Blame Google. Hell, blame the world wide webs for that matter. And if it's that easy to find such pictures, parents, I plead to you, lock that internet up from your chirrun. I propose new legislation that one should be at least 16 to get a license to drive both on the road AND on the information superhighway. I know. I know. I know. You're thinking, "Tony, you're always so damn conservative." But hey, that's just how I roll. Ha ha ha. Butt hay!)

Need Funding for My Movie

I haven't quite worked out what it's about just yet, but I have a working title (and a hard working title at that): A Whore's Bath. Now I'm just thinking outloud here, but I think it should be animated. Right? Beautiful Pixar animation. Kind of like A Bug's Life, but not so gross and insecty. Ick. Visually, it will be for the children, but - BUT - unbeknownst to the children, the underlying story and many of the jokes will be adult in nature. It will be appealing across all demographics. Now people, think about this. Think about it long and hard. Then shake your money maker and think about investing. It don't get any better than this folks! It really don't. Okay. So who's in for a buck?

A Whore's bath, to go:

That's like REALLY REALLY FAST fast food.

By the way, Happy Gnu Year!

All I want for the new year is a sexy pair of gnu shoes. Pumps! Just kidding. I prefer flats. They're much more sensible. Like nurses' shoes. Anyway, I don't think enough things are made of gnu. Agreed? So, this year, let's all get gnu shoes, gnu coats, gnu purses, gnu belts and gnu wallets. Before you know it, the gnu will become extinct and all that shit will be worth twice as much as you paid for it. You heard it (pun sort of intended) here first folks. So tell your friends, and come to The Daily Wetwipe for all your sound financial advice. My resolution will be to try to post consistently and regularly. Wring out the old and bring in the gnu!

Fun facts : The gnu has a beard, short, erect mane and a long, flowing tail. Members of both sexes have large horns that curve down, outward and up. Sounds fucking hot to me!

Messiah Coming!

This guy in the subway station kept yellin, "Mess-iii-ah coming! Mess-iii-ah coming!"  I took one look at him and thought to myself, "You shore do look like a mess, but I cain't tell if you're a comin or a goin."

I know. Stupes.

Fartha Pooart is back...and cooking!

If you read my blog, then you know what Fartha Pooart is. If you don't, then why start now? Just kidding. This will give you some background. This too.

Anyway, you might think I'm white trash, and for those of you that really know me, you're right on the money. I can give your nearest trash can a run for it's money...with my potty mouth alone. And it's not about where I come from, but where I want to go! I mean, I'm the self proclaimed Martha Stuart of the sewer sect. If that's not a nice trashy niche, I don't know what is.

So here's my first Fartha Pooart recipe. Pretzel dip. I don't know if it already exists or not, but I promise you I came up with this all by meself. One day I had plain 'ol pretzels and since I really like Combos I thought, "I really need something to dip these plain 'ol pretzels into that will make them taste like Combos. What do I have?" Here's the recipe:

One part peanut butter
One part mustard (I really like the word mustard:  must turd.)
Mix

That's all folks. Dip away. I've tried it with different peanut butters and different mustards and it's all pretty dang good, but my fave is French's yellow mustard wif Smart Balance creamy peanut butter. You can go heavy on the peanut butter or heavy on the mustard. Basically season to taste. You decide. Since it's looks like baby diarrhea, let's call it diaper dip.  You're welcoooome!

I Declare Question Marks Obsolete!

I've been thinking, do we really need question marks to know when a sentence is a question. And worse, do Spanish languages really need two; one a the beginning AND one at the end of every question. Does anyone else ever think about this. Can you not tell that this sentence is a question without that particular piece of punctuation. Are these dumb questions. Are these even questions without question marks. Will I never get answers to these questions because they are not punctuated properly. Are you stupid. Are you at least annoyed. Do you even care. Do you think I'm pretty. Are you okay. Are you even reading this. What are you doing later. How come you won't call me back. Does this post need to end. Should I stop now.

Anway, I declare question marks obsolete! Exclamation points on the other hand, they are a necessity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Image from here . Not sure what this site is.)

The Sea Word

In anticipation of a possible Arrested Development movie, I decided to watch the entire series. Again. The second time around you catch so many more jokes and it's just that much better. For instance, the title of this post is the name of a boat GOB (pronounced Jobe, pictured with dove) wanted to buy. Subtle has never been so sexy. And this is a sea word I can really get down with!

(Watch some here.)

My Pheart must go on!

Again, the P is silent.

What is wrong with people?

Last night I ate dinner with my really good friend Ruth and she gave me her new business card. Her title is Associate. I first told her that she put the ass in associate. Hardy har har. So funny you forgot to laugh. I know. I've used that joke a hundred too many times with any word that begins with ass. So sue me. Then go fuck yourself. Just kidding. Please don't sue me.

Then I got to thinking. I became highly offended. Flabbergasted in fact. This is an abomination! That is really an offensive title. Let me break it down fer ya. Associate. Sound it out, stupid. Ass-o-she-ate. Poor "I'm-not-going-to-take-this-lying-down" Ruth for having to accept this crap from her place of employment. Whores deserve respect! Also, depending on your preferred pronunciation, it can be ass-o-shit, which quite frankly makes me just as sick. Aren't people disgusting? Now, I ain't no law-er or anything (calling Star Jones, calling Gloria Allred, CALLING NANCY GRACE), but I think Ruth may have a lawsuit on her hands. I don't know about you but I'm seein dolla $ign$. Show me the money!

(I know this image doesn't exactly make sense, but isn't it adorable? And what does that mean? Two girls one cup. Either way, I'd like to get in on some of that cup action. Looks fun. Yeah...until you blow chunks of course. Yuck. I hate blowin chunks. Of all the things you can blow, chunks are the worst! Ho Chunks, on the other hand, they're my favorite Indian. Obviously just cuz of the name. I don't really care about Indians so much.)

Turkini

I bet Rachael Ray is green with penis envy that she didn't think of this . Genius. Anyway, TGITG.  Thank God it's Thanksgiving. If it weren't a holiday I'd be pissed at myself for devouring 5000 calories of food energies in a single sitting. But hot damn! I loves me a good turkey meal. Happy TG. Gobble Gobble!

Look, Prickly