Workplace Politics
If I was a cashier with a vendetta, I’d finish every exchange by saying “You’ll pay for this!”
♥ shamp
i really like that jumpash guy he seams cool and really hot, you should do more comics with him in. do you know his number i'd like to talk to him about or you know life and stuff, the ups and downs. oh sigh frist time i drink after 26 days and it goes to my head
AnonymousYeah anon… Jumpash hasn’t been in any of the recent comics, i guess he’s been busy going out to night clubs and making out with people. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon enough.
♥ shamp
Was going through my iTunes and found this old recording in my voice notes. This is quite a few years old and I’m not entirely sure what was so important about this that I had to make a voice memo of it, but it was probably a matter of life or death at the time.
The Strokes.
Listening to the new Strokes album is like crawling through the broken shards of my favorite shot glass.
♥ shamp
Mosquitoes
Sometimes a mosquito is buzzing around me and i kill it before it even gets a chance to bite me. Then as i look down at the black smear it left behind, I feel bad because I never know if she intended to bite me or not. I do the same thing with relationsips.
On this day, twenty something years ago, the lovely Miss sexinthelibrary was born. I hope you are buried in gifts and sexy man bits.
♥ shamp
Why Do I Do This To Myself?
My hobbies include reading the comments sections on web pages and getting frustrated by the sheer stupidity of people I don’t know.
This Story Contains The Word Vagina
In the early 1950’s, the CIA’s Scientific Intelligence Division began conducting tests on unwitting US and Canadian citizens in an attempt to study mind control through the use of mind altering drugs. This is a well established fact, backed by government documents and statements from ex-CIA agents. The study went by the name “Project MKUltra”. During this time, a lesser known study was being performed by another secret agency. This study was titled “Operation Moon Kitty”.
Operation Moon Kitty revolved around a young girl by the name of Nicole Patsbury. A 16 year old from the small country town of Great Barrington, Massachusetts. To her friends, Nicole was just a regular girl. She obsessed over Doo-wop music and boys just like her friends. She studied hard at school and dreamed of finding the boy she would one day marry. What nobody knew, is that Nicole was to be part of an experiment that would change her life forever.
While walking home from school in the Summer of 1953, a white van pulled up beside her and three men in suits jumped out, grabbing her and dragging her into the van. She kicked and screamed, but it did nothing but exhaust her. As one of the men placed a white rag over her mouth, her exhausted breaths inhaled whatever chemical it had been soaked in and she quickly passed out. When she awoke, it was night time. She was in a park that she soon recognized, just a mile from her house. Still very drowsy, she stumbled home, unsure of what had happened. Her parents laughed as she described the incident, wondering where she came up with such a story. But their attitude was soon to change.
The following morning Nicole awoke, still scared, but feeling like the whole thing had just been a bad dream. She showered before school much like any other day. That’s when she first noticed. Something about her vagina looked different. She couldn’t really describe what it was, but something wasn’t right. She just assumed it was all part of “growing up” and tried not to think about it.
Days passed and continued as normal, yet every morning as she showered, she could see a distinct change in the look of her vagina. It was bigger. It seemed to be swelling. It didn’t hurt to touch, but as it grew she became more and more concerned. After a week it had swollen to the size of a grapefruit, causing severe discomfort when she walked. Unable to hide it anymore, she confided in her mother. What followed was an awkward lecture about promiscuity and sexually transmitted diseases. Nicole swore to her mother that she hadn’t been sexually active but to no avail. An appointment was made and she was taken to the family doctor.
This is where Nicole Patsbury’s life began to spin out of control. As she sat, splayed out in the gynecological examination chair, her dignity ripped from her like a frog pinned to a block of wood in a biology class, the doctor prodded and dug his way to no conclusion. Phone calls were made and doctors statewide arrived to observe the specimen. Sticking her with tools and implements like some sort of white coat freak show. Nobody had any answers.
A week of examinations passed, all the while, her vagina grew in size, the doctors becoming more and more perplexed. Nicole becoming more and more ashamed and humiliated. None of her friends visited her, but everyone in town was talking. Churches were using her as an example of gods wrath towards teenage sex. Boys would use her name as an insult. Still, her family stuck by her. Her father, a high ranking government official, pulled various strings in an attempt to save his daughter from whatever horrible disease she had contracted. Nicole, now unable to walk, was flown out by helicopter to a government facility. The worlds best doctors were flown in to study her. A cure, it seemed, was out of the question.
As the days and weeks passed her vagina continued to grow. From the size of a basketball, to the size of a car. From the size of a car to the size of a house. Her body, now a mere wart clinging to the prominent vagina that made up her mass. Top tier military officials held meetings and plans were put into place. If something wasn’t done soon, her vagina would grow so large that the earth itself could be in danger. This was the beginning of Operation Moon Kitty. Moon Kitty took smartest men and women in the world and rounded them up in a desperate attempt to find a solution. Their answer? To shoot Nicole into space.
A full year passed. Nicole’s vagina growing and growing. Now she stood out, like a mountain silhouetted against the horizon. Next to her, a rocket had been built. A one way taxi to problem solved. Using helicopters, Nicole was strapped to the rocket. It looked as though a jetpack had been strapped to a peach. The military gathered around. An air of excitement and cheap jokes filled the room as the booming loudspeaker counted down from ten to one. The rocket exploded with flames and Nicole lifted off the Earth. A smoke trail spewed from it comically as all who witnessed it cheered and danced, forgetting all about the young girl strapped along side the rocket. And then she was gone. Crisis averted.
And somewhere in some deep, dark secret bunker, it’s said that scientists are still tracking her. Measuring her size. And still, to this day she grows. Imagine that. A giant, unshaven vagina hurtling through space with a jetpack strapped to it’s back. Picture it, a meat planet, glistening in the sunlight, leaving a trail of grool nine hundred thousand miles long in it’s wake like some sort of moist, sex comet.
And yet… despite Nicole Patsbury. Despite operation Moon Kitty. When I’m forced talk to you, I still can’t shake the feeling that you are, indeed, the biggest cunt in the universe.
♥ shamp
