This Little Piggy Went To.....?

As you know, I loves me a tale of the unexpected. An oddity, something or someone, an event or happening of such singularity that many might find disturbing or just not worth their time are things upon which I waste most of mine. A story in today's weird news section caught my eye and is worthy of mention.

First off, if I was going to go get me a dog, I think I would be going to get me a miniature dachshund. I'm not someone particularly attracted by the cuteness factor of animals but these little buggers are as cute as they come. Known as "sausage dogs" in England they appear to be the ideal dog to torment while they sleep. Small and not particularly agile, they look like they would be a good dog to tickle and poke with straws without fear of being savaged if they got angry.

Anyway, there is one less miniature dachshund in the world today after an Illinois woman had hers put down because it ate her big toe while she was asleep. Roscoe, the dog, was euthanized because of safety concerns when the woman awoke after a nap on Monday to find her big toe missing. The 56 year old diabetic had no nerve feeling in her toes and slept soundly while Roscoe nibbled away. The dog it seems had been attracted to the toe which had been bandaged due to a healing hangnail.

Cute but don't fuck with them while they eat

So I have questions. Once they had offed Roscoe, where they able to retrieve the toe from his little tummy and re-attach it to it's owner? Did they find the toe in one of Roscoe's little turds out in the garden and re-attach it? I don't understand why they had to put him down. It's not his fault, he must have been hungry. Perhaps there were no kibbles and bits left in his little bowl and in an attempt to wake his sleeping owner he began licking her toes and just got a bit carried away. He didn't know that she had no feeling in them and since she didn't kick him away why would he not eat the toe?

Diabetes isn't funny but dogs eating the toes of diabetics while they sleep is. Precautions should have been taken like wearing socks or slippers which might have prevented this from happening. Also it might be an idea to find a food that you dog does not like (this can be challenging) and use it to keep the dog away from your nerve damaged body parts. For instance, our dog, although he enjoys most foods, does not like the chips from McDonalds so if I had nerve damaged toes and were intent on napping barefoot I would probably place a chip between each toe and scotch tape some to the soles of my feet, thus preventing him from eating any part of my foot.

Another victim. This man's toes were eaten by his hamster, Ice Cube.

Lastly, I can only imagine the shock of waking from a nice restful nap to find that your big toe has gone missing. It would take a moment or two to sink in. What reasonable explanation could there be? It just fell off and rolled under the bed? Had the high value of big toes on the black market sparked an increase in theft? I'm not sure that "the dog ate it" would be the first conclusion I would jump to.

This lass has the right idea. If you must eat toes,
eat your own....topless (does not apply to dogs, blokes or kids.)

Further research on this story has found that the woman also suffered from neuropathy, was legally blind in one eye and cannot walk had returned from a camping trip (?) with her family the previous day and no doubt shagged out by the ordeal of being fetched, carried and pushed around in a wheelchair for 3 days decided to take a nap. She awoke to see the dogs head moving up and down and upon realizing what was occurring called her daughter.

"It's hard to take in when you walk in a room and there's a dog eating your mom," her daughter said, sobbing. ".... I didn't think when I went in there I was going to see that." Well... who would?

You can read the story, if you wish, here.

I am developing an idea for a whole new line of doggie treats.

More Smoothness

It has become apparent to me that airports and airplanes are popular hunting grounds for single man trying to find a mate. In my last post I told you about the sad bastard hitting on a poor female on a plane. Last night I was witness to yet another attempt to by a man to "get him some." This time it was much less painful for the victims as this guy had no game whatsoever. It was over in a matter of seconds. I did feel a bit sorry for the lad, a middle aged black fella who I had earlier seen talking to three cops by the security checkpoint. Either he had aroused their suspicions and was being questioned about his behaviour or he was simply trying to preempt any possible suspicion they may have by being cordial to them. I don't know.

Anyway, I'm sitting at the gate trying to get through some emails and I notice the girl sat opposite me is reading a copy of Einstein: His Life And Universe. The black lad has noticed her too and sits down two seats away from her, leans across and taps her on the shoulder. "Excuse me" he says, "how is the book?" She seems a little surprised but smiles and replies "oh....it's quite good, I haven't read much yet, only got it yesterday."
"Hmmm....really? I almost bought it you know. I'm fascinated by great minds like his" he says. "Yes, he really was incredible. I couldn't make my mind up but eventually I bought Sting's autobiography instead." !!!!!!!!!!!!
What the fuck? He is fascinated by great minds yet has trouble deciding between Einstein and Sting??? I had to bite my lip to stop myself laughing.
The girl looks horrified and excuses herself to go to the shitter, no doubt to read in peace until the boarding call.
The lad then looks around and see's an older lady sitting a couple of seats to the other side of him. "Hi" he says. "I see you have a medical pre-board pass there........"

Poor bastard.

The Original Line Up of The Police. Not enough
room for two genius'. Albert left for an unsuccessful
solo career.

A Proper Smooth Bastard

Have you ever been witness to the feeble attempts by one of your fellow humans to pick up a member of the opposite sex? It can be amusing, sad, infuriating, uncomfortable....many things. I choose to look upon these situations as life lessons. Where did the lad go wrong? What did he do that worked? Was it his body language? Was it the overpowering scent of his Brut 33 or the overpowering scent of desperation? I often want to provide feedback, not that I am an expert - I have been out of the game for too long but as a man of science I feel that I have something to offer. Sometimes I would simply like to shake his hand and congratulate him on a job well done or offer a knowing nod and a wink. Other times, it's hard to even look him or his choice of mate in the eye such is my shame at being a man.

Yes, the mating ritual can be frustrating. Unlike many of our animal friends, there is no set way of doing it. No brightly coloured under wing feathers to display as we strut around, our heads cocked slightly to one side while we produce a low rumbling sound in our throats. I have on occasion tried the strutting around, head cocked/throat rumbling method myself but with very limited success. It turns out that this kind of behaviour is not really welcome at the local "Thai Relaxing Spa & Massage" and I was asked politely but firmly to "reave". Obviously the brightly coloured under wing plumage is the key.

No, it isn't that easy for us humans. Our females are, in most cases, a little more sophisticated. Generally it takes more than puffing out our chests and dancing around on one leg to attract a woman. Put another way, any woman who is attracted to men who puff out their chests and dance around on one leg is probably not the most alluring or desirable. She has probably been fooled by such displays before, only to find that although a man who can puff out his chest and dance around on one leg is, in his own way, talented. It is a talent not generally exhibited by a caring lover or a companion for life. Nevertheless, she has failed to learn and in an attempt to find a father for her young, returns every Saturday night to the local mating ground known as Xenon to check out the talent strutting their stuff.

Dancing though, can of course be a powerful factor in the science of attraction. Lads who can dance are more likely to tap off with a watching female than those operating on the bar - toilet - bar principle. I prefer to take elements of the two and when combined with my charming and witty conversation, the results can be effective but only if the 'bar' part of the equation is <= the charm and wit, dancing can be equal to or greater than the charm and wit although MUST be greater than but not equal to the toilet piece in order to prove my point. Are you still with me?

I was recently witness to a very determined effort to pick up a female of the species on a Southwest flight. First of all, despite the limited dancing room and a restricted supply of alcohol there is an unfair advantage to the male, this is not a level playing field. The poor victim really has no way to escape, especially on a full flight such as this. The only respite from his advances would be a trip to the toilet and that can only be stretched so far. Any longer than 5 minutes in an aircraft shitter and the flight attendants will come to make sure you are not tampering with the smoke detector. So, I'm sitting in my usual seat and this fairly attractive lady in her 40's (I would guess?) sits next to me in the middle seat. This is a rare event (as I have spoken about before) but next to me she does indeed sit. I smile and before I can say "Hi!" this lad says to her "Mind if join you for the ride?" Now I had seen him already take a seat a couple of rows away and so he had obviously been waiting for her to choose a seat so that he could pounce. She says "Umm, well no I don't mind..." What else was she to say? So he sits down next to her in the aisle seat. Straight away I notice the tatty, dog eared paperback in his hands entitled "The Art of Loving". JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! I'm not sure if I should applaud this tactic or laugh. He should have gone the whole hog and worn a t-shirt that said "Only Animals Wear Fur" and a pink breast cancer ribbon on his lapel. By the way, he fucks around with this book the whole flight, flicking through the pages, finger drumming on the cover until she finally gives in and asks what he is reading. I would guarantee that he has never read beyond the synopsis on the back but he replies "Oh...this, yeah a fascinating book. I took a psychology class and was supposed to read this but never did. I finally decided I should at least check it out. It really helps you understand what love is all about, not just between a man and a woman but between friends and family too." Well what a sensitive, beautiful human being you must be.... how can any woman resist a man sooo in touch with his feelings that he is willing to read a book about how to express love. I spent the flight trying not to appear to eavesdrop but silently repeating his lines so as not to forget them. Who knows, some day I might need them? Here are the ones I can remember:

• Oh you're Jewish? You know I was the only Jew in my high school...
• Do you like theater? Me too, what was the last play you saw?....Oh, I don't know that one...Oh community theater, well yes, community theater is the best. They are all excellent....Well no, not all of them, some are excellent and some are just good, I would say its about 50/50....
• Hey look at that cloud...doesn't it look like an angel?
• So, you have family in East LA? I lived there for a time, I had a choice, I could either be a cholo or get out so I got out....
• Me too...I love yoga, I was taking classes for a while but I had to stop because I was becoming obsessed with it and decided to start Tae Kwon Do instead....I might start again though. Where do you take classes?
• I'm divorced and thank god we didn't have kids....You're divorced too? Was it difficult?....Well yeah, we are still friends too, that's important because you never know....
• To the flight attendant "Is the water still or sparkling? Still? Hmm....can I get a slice of lemon with it? No lemons? Okay, then a diet coke....no ice. You're the best! Thanks! Turning to the victim "I just have to have lemon in my water - it helps my skin... go on feel my face..."
• What's your name? Ahhh Olivia.....The Twelfth Night..... You know?....Shakespeare?
• Oh Redwood City? I drive by there every night....sometimes if the traffic is bad I stop off for coffee....

On and on it went, this poor girl politely indulging him with the patience of a saint. Maybe she was flattered or just glad to pass the time. Finally as we landed and taxied to the gate he told her she had been a lot of fun to talk to and asked if she had a business card. She didn't immediately answer him as she was pulling her bag out from under the seat and all of a sudden he seemed to panic. Time was ticking and his chances would be few. He asked her again, a little more impatient this time and she said she was sorry but no she didn't. He looked completely dejected for a moment but after getting his bag out of the storage bin recovered his composure and tried a full on attack "Do you have a ride home? I can give you a ride if not, I'm going that way anyway." I noticed he was tapping his car keys on his bag, no doubt to display the somewhat fanny magnet-ish Audi key ring. She politely declined saying that her father was picking her up. Again he looked like he had seen his own arse. This time I think she felt sorry for him and said "Why don't you give me your number?" His face lit up and he stuttered his name and number along with some lame 'Don't be afraid to leave a message if I don't answer.." Obvious call screener..

As we deplaned, I was right behind her and he was a few people up ahead, she turned to me with a smile and said "You know....you could have jumped in at any time there..." I laughed and said "I didn't think he needed my help."

Is There Anybody Out There?

I have neglected my blog of late. I'm surprised (and somewhat disappointed) that the squatters haven't moved in and turned it into a dirty porno site or something. I also thought Blogger might take it away from me since it was apparently abandoned, but I don't get away that easy. I'm going to try and be a better blogger. By "better" I mean post more often, not actually be better at blogging. No, like as not you are stuck with the same old poo jokes, stories of misfortune and sometimes foolish bravado. It's been a long couple of months, if you have any sense you left long ago, never came back and so are not even reading this. Ready? Comb your hair, pull yer pants back up and stick th'kettle on....

Now I have always been wary of the Swiss and their claims of neutrality. If they are so neutral why do they need to arm themselves with multi-functional knives? It may be one of the richest countries in the world but it is hardly rich in the natural resources an enemy might covet. Admittedly, I know little about Switzerland but I do know that I cannot remember ever hearing about the price for a barrel of crude cuckoo clocks or toblerone's reaching all time highs and affecting the global economy. One thing that I will give the Swiss is they know how to make a good Swiss Cheese, my 15th favorite cheese (I will post about the other 14 another time).

If I were that way inclined and were looking for a good piece of cheese to have sex with, Swiss would be the one since it already has the holes, half the work is already done for you. True, you may need to do a little modification and enlarge the holes slightly (yet another use for your Swiss Army knife) but all in all there would be considerably less mess to clean up afterwards. I'm wondering if there is a name for people who like to have it off with cheese. There must be one for food fetishists although I have no idea what it is, why would I? I don't mess with cheese although I was once slightly aroused whilst peeling some carrots in the nude and who doesn't get embarrassed when eating a banana in public?
I do have to admit that I can see how someone might get drawn into this kind of thing, the excitement of shopping at the supermarket, browsing furtively for just the right piece, not too many holes - it might crumble, good weight, nice firm feel to it. Adrenalin pumping you take a quick look around, has anyone noticed? That fat bald twat of a deli manager seems to be watching you out of the corner of his eye. Does he know? No, he can't....Maybe he does it too? Can't be the only one, must be millions of us.... Right, nice bottle of wine....Have the right change ready for the girl at the checkout for a quick getaway...Why is she smiling like that? Shit, she's onto me...What if I do buy a lot of Swiss Cheese? It's nutty and delicious and a treat to eat....Getting nervous, blushing, sweating, hard on, can't stop thinking about it....lovely cheese, me and you alone, fuck 'em, I don't care if they do know, I'll shop at Whole Foods from now on... Fuck though, it's much more expensive and kind of out of my way and there's always a long line but I must have you.... The wife, the kids, the job...all gone, all for you....See what you are doing to me? I'm gonna learn ya, ya dirty little fucker. Wait 'til I get you in the car.....

Then you get spotted with your dick in a piece of cheese by the young retarded lass that Safeway gets to use for free ('cause it's "work experience") to collect the trolleys from the car park and she starts screaming 'cause she's confused and a crowd gathers round, the bobby's come and take you away with the cheese in a zip lock bag, exhibit A. You make the front page of the local paper and have to register as a sex offender although no one got hurt and all the local kids throw Dairylea triangles at your house and call you Mayor McCheese.... Was it really worth it? Ostracized, an outcast, a pariah, it's all over.

I bet you love it in every hole don't you, you filthy slut

You can see all that happening right?
What were you expecting after almost 2 months without a post?

It's Official....

Sweaty arses are IN.... They must be given the number of people looking for them on the internet these days. So far this year "Sweaty Arse" is the number 1 search term used by visitors to the LB.
No fewer than 25 people you would not want to have coffee with have found this blog by using "sweaty arse" in their Google search. LB comes in at #6 on Google and it is my aim to make it #1, hopefully by mentioning sweaty arse as much as possible in this post.

Russell Grant - Makes His Own Soup

It's not just the 25 hits that I got from "Sweaty Arse" though, it's all the related searches that confirm the current frenzy over musky moisture in the crack region. Here they are to back up my argument...

Arse Sweat
Avoid Crack Sweat
Sweat Arse
Sweaty Arse Crack
Big Sweaty Arse
Help For Crack Sweat
Stop Sweaty Arse
Less Sweating On Arse
Hot Sweaty Arse Crack
Sweaty Arse.Com

DO NOT SMELL YOUR FINGERS!

How To Stop Crack Sweat
How To Stop a Sweaty Arse
Sweat Crack
Sweaty Arse Fucking
Sweaty Arse, Cunt
Sweaty Balls Sweaty Arse

Wear Yer Wellies....

Now as regular readers will know, I am no hypocrite. I would not make fun of nor mock the afflicted in a desperate attempt to hide my own sadness or mask my own shortcomings. For most of us who are honest and married with no need to try to attract members of the opposite sex, a sweaty arse is an occasional irritant. There is no point hiding it or denying it. We all know because we suffer too. Every labourer, every desk jockey sat in a shiny vinyl office chair, every hardworking doctor, nurse, pizza delivery person and plumber, pregnant housewife and peanut vendor, politician and panty thief gets the odd sweaty arse. Especially when the weather warms up a tad (like today). And what about the humidity? Talcum powder sales in Tennessee must go through the roof in summer. Chafing must be rife. Don't hide from it people, be loud, be proud, stick your bare sweaty arse out of the window and yell "I itch like hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore!" Don't worry, the cops will understand, in a recent US Weekly survey cops were named as having the sweatiest arses amongst all of the emergency services. Border Patrol agents in New Mexico were second, Coastguard helicopter pilots third.

Finding the cure for a sweaty arse is like trying to find a pube in an afro or a funny joke in a Larry The Cable Guy special. It's never going to happen. Get real. Don't waste your time, go and sit in the kid's inflatable pool with a six pack and a copy of The Enquirer, educate yourself. Live a little, treat yourself to some silk undies, sateen if you are poor, avoid cotton and spicy foods.

I cannot close this post without mentioning my two favourite search terms this week, they are "Hot balls, frequent urine" and "See her tits in funkytown". I'm ecstatic that these folks found my site in their search for masturbatory pleasure and hope that before they quickly left the site, they at least scratched their heads and said to themselves "What the fuck....?"

The question I have is are their any of you still out there, reading today who found this blog by way of your search for info on your perspiring posterior and stayed? It's unlikely as the bounce rate was 89% and most visitors to LB don't come back ever again....fucking quitters.

One final thing, how can I do a post about about sweaty arses without this.....

You Know You Want It........

Superhero Streetfight

Once again, our filthy Hollywood "street entertainers" in their ragged, stained and in all likelihood stolen costumes are keeping things real down on the boulevard. Many millions of tourists hit Hollywood Boulevard every year expecting to see movie stars and/or be discovered by a director out scouting for the next big thing. It's more likely that they will see a mentally ill, piss soaked specimen who claims to be Clark Gable and yells at traffic and/or be offered some free "headshots" that it turns out, require you to be naked and an animal lover.

I have written before about the anti-climax that is Hollywood Boulevard. Store after store selling the same cheap, tacky t-shirts that shrink after one wash, plastic Oscar statues that proclaim the unimpressed receiver "World's Best Tea Drinker" and postcards with pictures of stars taken 10 years ago. To the credit of the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, they have spruced it up a bit but if you ask me, the best thing they could do would be to get rid of the star impersonators. The impersonators themselves, like to be called '"actors", what they really are is "out of work actors". I was there last week and there were no less than 3 Capt. Jack Sparrow 's all vying for the tourists money by having their pictures taken with a very confused kid. I did not see Chewbacca, he has not been there the last few times I have been by, quite possible incarcerated due to his antics recorded here and here

The latest incident that I am aware of, and I don't know when this was recorded, has Spiderman and Batman attacking some guy for reasons that are not clear. This video has given me an idea for a new attraction down on Hollywood Blvd. Rent one of the many shuttered and closed down stores, put a wrestling ring inside and some seating and charge tourists to come in and watch Ultimate Celebrity Fighting. I am sure that I could easily get $10 per person, maybe 50 people per show, 8 shows per day. That's 4 grand per day, open 7 days...28 grand per week minus rent, wages and operating expenses ( a mop, some disinfectant and band-aids) I could probably clear about 15k a week. Not to mention the merchandising, tacky t-shirt sales, dvd's and plastic Oscar statues.... This time next year Rodders we'll be millionaires...

Sausage-Fest

Just What The Doctor Ordered....(me not to eat)

Lovely.... What a great start to the day. Nothing says Sunday morning like a frying pan full of sausages. Not the weak Americano kind, no, Farmer John can kiss my hairy English arse. These are the kind of sausages that made Britain Great. It's a little documented fact that Sir Geoff Hurst ate a plateful before scoring a hat-trick to defeat the Germans in the 1966 World Cup Final and what did he do right after the game? That's right, he had some more but this time on toast with Daddies Sauce.

It's no wonder that the European Union tried to restrict the contents of British sausages. Several of the other member nations reportedly filed a complaint that the sausages gave us Brits an unfair advantage in the marketplace. The UN have so far refused to intervene, mainly because Kofi Annan enjoys 2 or 3 with some Heinz Baked Beans and a slice of fried bread for his tea on Fridays.

I like to think that eating sausages has made me the strapping, virile man I am today, few who know me would argue. Even Mrs. Waring admitted, before rushing out of the kitchen (presumably to masturbate) that she was extremely turned on by the sight of me, in my string vest and best Sunday boxer shorts standing turning the sausages in the pan. I made a mental note that the next time our sex life gets a bit stale to throw a few in the pan and suggest doing it in the kitchen while they cook. On second thoughts though, that might not be such a wise decision, I might begin to associate the smell of cooking sausages with sex. It's hard enough not to be self conscious while eating one, olfactory stimulation might just be a bridge to far... Maybe the answer is to cook them in advance then just pretend to cook them while she watches through a hole in a piece of plywood.

All this talk of sex is making me hungry....