penismightier.com

What I was thinking:

Oh… I dont know if getting that cat high is such a good idea. Its probably going to act like its in heat and eat all the cat food.

Wow. Its running in circles…

Its still running in circles…

It better spin the other way soon or I’m going to get dizzy.

What I said:

Hehehehe. Kitty zoom.

When I’ve been drinking there seems to be a larger disconnect between my brain and my mouth than normal.

I finally joined the digital age in terms of picture taking with the reception of a Kodak EasyShare C813 for my birthday. I take it with me now in case I see something worth, well, sharing to use an apt term.

I was outside a Big Boy for lunch at work and this Triumph cruiser parked out front caught my eye. Talk about taking a theme to a different level.

I’m sleeping.

I finish a long and disturbing dream that went over every bad thing that has happened at work over the last month. Now I’m switching gears and entering a dream in which I’m going out to have a drink at a local bar.

Everything seems to be going well, but for some reason all of my drinks taste like chocolate. The gray-haired woman next to me tells me that her drinks taste like chocolate as well, and she seems very excited about that. She talks about the fact for several minutes, giving me a chance to notice that she has sharp, pointy teeth and yellow eyes.

I’m a little disturbed and resolve to move to a different seat as soon as I can. For some reason I don’t want this imaginary lady to think I’m rude so I listen to a few more minutes of her conversation and nod my head at all the appropriate points. Her words begin to take on a staccato quality, and her face begins to fade in and out.

I forget my desire to not be rude and reach out to make sure she’s not a hologram. She’s not. Her response to my touch is to sink her teeth into my arm.

While trying to dig the teeth out of my arm I notice that her fingers have sprouted claws, and she is reaching right for my crotch.

I’m awake.

I sit up in bed, and suddenly there is a sharp pain in my leg. I look down, and find that there is a gray-haired cat resting on my leg, stretched out with one set of claws extended. Her eyes are mostly shut, but I can still see the pupil of one of them looking at me. My movements seem to make her sink her claws in further. On one hand she seems to be telling me not to move… but on the other her eye seems to be daring me to move again.

I wonder what the chocolate flavored booze meant.

With about 6 months left of the Shrub, I’m restarting a project that was tragically dropped without warning over a year ago.

Help Dubya Cover His Ass!

Help the president of the Free World cover his ass… with other asses! Click on each ass picture to be transported to the link that was submitted with that picture!

The Rules are Simple:
• Take a picture of your ass. (No copyrighted images, please)
• Find a link you would like to associate with your ass.
• Send the picture (and link choice) to Clme@NOPHARMA@IHATESPAMpenismightier.com with the subject “Cover Dubya’s Ass” (remove letters in caps).
• If you’d like your ass to remain anonymous, please make sure you specify this in the email.

Dont want to participate? Well, be a sport and click on some of the more attractive ass pictures and make the donators feel like they got some use out of their flashbulbs!

Some people have asked me if I would continue this project with the next president, and my answer is no. At least, not with asses.

Why is that, you might ask? Simple:

If John McCain wins, he is incapable of covering his ass at all. Its true! War injuries restricted the movement of his arms! The fact of the matter is that I want to help our president cover his ass, not wipe it. Besides, McCain already has Fox news to wipe his ass for him anyway, so my help isn’t needed. With that in mind I’ve decided that if this project continues for McCain then I’d have to cover him with lobbyists. He’s getting older, and it must be harder to find lobbyists to keep him warm at night.

If Barack Obama wins then covering him with asses doesn’t seem appropriate. I’d have to cover him with tits. The entire tone of the project would change in that case.

Click here to Help Dubya Cover His Ass! If you don’t, who knows who will?

I’m beginning to think that my internet time and my TV time shouldn’t overlap. Its hurting my focus, and sometimes leads to embarrassing situations.

Usually these situations are fairly benign. For example, I’ll be watching something on PBS and suddenly get absorbed by the shiny lights on the computer. The next thing I know someone walks into the room and asks me why I’m watching Teletubbies. Normally my answer in those situations is to look up from the computer, rub the drool off of my chin, and smile like an idiot. That tends to be enough of an answer and the person just walks away and leaves me alone.

However, the other night I made that mistake while watching the “Independent Film Channel”. Adult Swim was showing yet another ‘Tim and Eric’ repeat so I started channel surfing and stopped on the first channel that was showing boobies. Thinking it was some lame Showtime flick, I put the remote down and started zoning out on the computer once more.

About 20 minutes later my wife walks into the room and just stops. She yells out “What the FUCK are you watching?”. Not knowing what I was watching myself I look at the screen and my jaw drops. Apparently the movie I was watching had moved on from boobies to gay porn. Not just gay porn… hardcore gay porn. There was more sucking, licking, and fucking going on than I had ever seen on a pay movie, and it was all happening between three guys on the screen. They were arranged in some strange upright daisy chain, and it didn’t look comfortable at all.

Somehow I realized that the smile and the drool just wouldn’t work as a response here. The only thing I could manage to spit out was “Wow… you don’t see that every day” while I tried to find the remote.

The remote took way too long to find. Then the buttons on the remote suddenly didn’t work right.

I was speechless. My wife wasn’t though. “Well, if thats what you’re into I guess I’ll just leave you alone”. I wont be hearing the end of this anytime soon.

The movie’s name was “shortbus”. This is probably not a date movie.

“Despite my better judgment” is an interesting phrase. Its meant to imply that the person using it carefully weighed two choices in their mind and went ahead and chose the one that was doomed to failure anyway. Unfortunately its also one of those phrases that are used incorrectly more often than not.

That leaves you with people saying things like ‘To spite my better judgment I ordered a supersize Big Mac meal instead of the regular Big Mac meal’. Chances are you will be left wondering if the ‘to spite’ addition was intentional, and wether or not the person speaking understands irony. Tests for understanding irony are very simple, but they are also very obvious to anyone that does, in fact, understand irony. The last thing you need is yet another reason for a person you’re acquainted with to get offended.

I’ve spent many, many hours ranting about incorrect uses of irony, starting with Alanis Morrisette and ending with the people I work with daily. Over time I have come to have a question about usage of my own, unfortunately I have a feeling that its the set-up to someone else’s joke:
A person that acts moronic is a moron. What do we call a person that acts ironic?

Speaking of failure… against my better judgment I have been known to stop and assist motorists that are broken down at the side of a highway. I’m not sure why a breakdown elicits this response from me when most other things don’t… In fact, when I’m at home I’m a grumpy old curmudgeon that yells at the neighborhood kids to leave my dog alone. Every now and then I also have to ask the neighborhood kids to stop using my yard for drug deals. The regular guy gets a little grumpy when the kids try hound in on his customers.

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We’ve all heard this one before…

The scenario is simple: A friend is about to do something that could be portrayed as dangerous. Depending on the person’s attitude, they either brag about the upcoming event or they request encouragement.
Then someone pipes in with the tired old joke… “If you die can I have your stereo?” (Replacing ‘stereo’ with the appropriate expensive possession when necessary).

It works best when the joke is ironic in nature… when it works at all. So as an example, you would say “If you die can I have your car?” before someone goes into a particularly foul-smelling bathroom, but NOT before they have open-heart surgery. It turns out that dark humor works better before trips to the bathroom than before having your chest split open.

Now that I’ve ruined any possibility of that joke ever being funny again (or to begin with) I’m going to spew out a slightly related (yet fractured) monologue about porn and death.

Today at work a few coworkers were standing outside my office discussing their lunch choices. They weren’t describing anything of note, and to tell the truth I can’t even remember what restaurants they were mentioning, since I was too busy pretending to listen to someone else on my phone. However, one bit managed to ebb its way into my brain: One of them, after hearing about the others lunch choice, said “If you die can I have your computer?”

Quite frankly the joke bombed harder than my open heart surgery joke above.

But the other man took it in stride like he was being fed lines from a comic straight-man. He had a come-back ready: “Well, you can have my computer but you’ll have to wait until my brother is done with it, because I’ve already promised him all the porn”.

I had to hit mute on my phone because I started to laugh.

Then my mind went on one of its little stream-of-consciousness expeditions and I began to wonder what would happen to my computer equipment when I died. I didn’t really have any fear (or care) of what happened to the hardware… more about what happened to the data on it. What if one of my parents were the next ones to access my old hard drives?

Now, my dad wouldn’t care and would probably just keep the drives for himself. However, he may be a little bit concerned about all that anime and granny porn (stored in that inconspicuous folder named ‘saved games’ of course). It’s my mother I tend to worry about. I can see her trying to set up one of my old computers so she can record a show off of HGTV and stumbling across that folder full of blowjob videos. In my worst version of this nightmare she actually likes them, and compiles them into one long 3 hour loop to play as my video eulogy.

The crowd goes wild.

Then I hear my name and realize that I still have the person on the other end of my phone on mute. I panic a little. For some reason I’m sweating and my left arm has shooting pain.

I very quickly dismiss the person on the other end of the phone and remotely connect to my home computers so I can scrub all the porn… and then I think better of it. After all, what about the future? My hard drive could serve as a time capsule for future generations! Just think of all the anthropological material that exists in digital form in all those videos, jpegs, and fan-fiction text files. Especially the fan-fiction text files.

I’m still not thinking clearly though. The most likely scenario is that my wife will throw my computers out, so whoever digs them from the trash wont realize who they’re getting all those slashfan fiction stories from. Then she’ll get married to some other guy that’s rich and has a nice car and has a bigger dick than I do and… um. Yeah.

You know what, when I die I’ll just request that my hard drives get turned into novelty clocks to honor my memory. Yeah. That should work. No porn, no trash, and no rich guy. No slash fiction.

Well, maybe a little slash fiction.

Problem solved.

For many years many of us have been devotees to SETI, the Search for ExtraTerrestrial Intelligence. The SETI group was based out of Berkeley and would occasionally record raw data from radio telescope arrays and then would have their volunteers (people like us) process it. You can read the Wikipedia article on SETI here. The Pen SETI stats page is available here.

Since 2001 many of us have been devoting all of our spare computer cycles to searching for aliens, even going as far as to load up many of the computers at our respective workplaces with the software at one time or another. It didn’t cost us anything, and since most of us run our computers 24 hours a day it gave us the illusion of some of that time not being wasted.

Unfortunately SETI has kind of died over the last few years. With the start of many ‘more useful’ distributed computing projects and the lack of fresh data for the SETI clients to process the interest in the program has faded to the point that we only had about 7 people still active on the pen team last month, out of a one time high of 141.

With those things in mind eod started a Folding team. Folding is run by Stanford, and devotes your spare CPU cycles to protein folding. The idea is that the distributed computing model can help find cures for cancer, Alzheimer’s, and many other diseases. Now instead of searching for aliens we’re curing cancer!

If you’re interested in joining the pen folding team visit http://folding.stanford.edu and load the client.

The pen team is number 119090 and the stats can be viewed here.

As a warning, the windows ‘graphical’ client will disrupt games that use the OpenGL engine. If you load the graphical client then you will want to pause it before starting games. The command line version doesn’t have this hangup but does require a bit more skill to install and run.

Help pen cure erectile dysfunction^* cancer! Join the pen Folding team!

^*Note: Folding and team Pen can not actually cure erectile dysfunction unless you send me pictures of your sisters.

I was doing some spring cleaning of some files, especially those concerning some of my old writings, and I fell upon this. It seems just as relevant now as it did then, sadly:

 ”Our armies do not come into your cities and lands, as conquerors and enemies but as liberators, it is not the wish of our government to impose upon you alien institutions, it is our wish that you should prosper, even as in the past, when your lands were fertile, when your ancestors gave to the world literature, science, and art, and when Baghdad city was one of the wonders of the world. It is our hope that the aspirations of your philosophers and writers shall be realized, and that once again the people of Baghdad shall flourish, enjoying their wealth and substance under institutions, which are in continence with their sacred laws and their racial ideals.”

- General David Petraeus

- General F.S. Maude,  Commander, British Occupying Forces, Excerpt from Speech in Baghdad in March of 1917

If someone forced you at gunpoint and said you had to dress up as a Cosplay person. Who would you pick?

Me? I’d rock me some GI JOE Destro outfit