Kfed Lose Control Teen Choice Awards

In Case You Missed It...

Ode To My Wife's Boobs

This is for my wife, who complains that I don't 'romance' her enough:

My two 'breast' friends, how much I adore thee,
my favorite part of the day, is when my wife sets you free.

Your bounty is like a sirens call, luring me toward the rocks,
when my wife jumps on the trampoline, it knocks me off my socks.

You jiggle and you juggle and you seem to wink at me,
my wife gets tired of me begging just to let me see.

A hug is all I need to get me through the day,
her boobs pressed against me, makes me want to stay.

But if I get a gander, then the day is complete,
I'm glad my wife has difficulty seeing both her feet.

I'm a very lucky man, she's my doe and I'm her stag,
so to her I say 'thank you' for my two personal fun bags.

Think Byron would be jealous?

Male Issues

I'm well aware that I haven't posted in awhile. I read all the scuttle butt. 'He's a lazy bugger, loser, slacker', and no telling what you're thinking. Well my friends, you're wrong. Dead wrong. Since my last post the following has occurred:

#1. Sat down to write out my next entry and the boys want to play Pirates of the Caribbean with their brand new boat (that really floats and has real rope ladders).
#2. NFL Football Fantasy Draft. Which i must say required considerable research and a protracted admiration of my results.
#3. Swat training which laid me up in bed for the better part of an evening recuperating with my wife's heating pad and the remote.
#4. Yard work, which also required an evening of recuperation in bed watching TV and taking short, restorative naps.
#5. A little thing I like to call 'serving and protecting the nation'.
#6. The maintained and welfare of our menagerie of pets, goldfish and hermit crabs and the loves of our lives...Annabelle and Libby.
#7. Minimum of 9 hours of sleep per day.
#8. The normal amount of healthy TV viewing.

So simmer down people. I'm back and ready to make your day once again.

Big Bubba's Breakdown

Guest Commentary by:

Mr. Big Bubba Hotep III

Seems to me that my good buddies over in Angland know how to get r done. That's right, I'm talking about the wire tapping, International espionage, country-protecting measures that my good buddy George Dubya had a'goin that resulted in the capture of a number of fanactical rascals. Now, I know all those high falutin' Washington types think I'm not sophisticated enough to be talking on such a subject and I say to them: that's shittier than the bottom of a possum's ass when he's being chased by ole Red.

*Spits tobacco and wipe mouth with shirt sleeve*.

Well, guess what? Big Bubba knows about the 1st amendment and here's the straight of things: the FBI or the CIA or ESPN for that matter, can wire tap my phone anytime they want if it protects my country. If I go crazy and turn into a suicide bomber, I want them catching me before I do the Jihad jangle. The only secrets they gonna get off my phone is the Hotep family chili recipe or the certain romantic rantings whispered to Mrs. Hotep during my lunch phone call home. You know the KGB was listening in on us Southern boys during the cold war. That's why they avoided a war. They heard us talking about the ass whooping that would have been visited upon them and decided it was in their best interest to drink vodka and make pee holes in the snow. You know what? I think if some of those good ole boys and girls in Washington are using wire tapping to stop terrorist acts anywhere well, that's okay with me. But what do I know? I like babies, puppies, firemen, soldiers, policemen, tall buildings and the freedom to go anywhere in this blessed USA without the fear of being blown to Kingdom come. But that's just me.

Oh yeah. I like beer too.

I love football.....

But some guys go too far.

Cheating

I love my wife, Maddie, but there's another girl, Annabelle. Maddie introduced me to her about four years ago and it started when she started rooming with us. I didn't know at first what was happening until one morning I woke up in bed and Annabelle was lying in my arms. What was this? It can't be. I'm the rock who told Maddie there would never be another. What should I do? Should I tell Maddie that she must now share my love with another? Would she or could she ever understand? I thought of keeping it a secret but I think she is suspicious. She must see the way I look at Annabelle when she cleans my plate after eating. Or the way we playfully chase each other through the house. Opps, Maddie's coming. Only have time to show you a picture of my precious Annabelle so you may understand how one could possibly start loving another as special as Maddie.

You can't fix stupid!

Lets Roll

WANTEDFatMan Cowboy
"Assman"

Suspect is wanted for the following crimes:

Count One: Theft of ham sandwhich
Count Two: Criminal micshief of a Nikkon Camera
Count Three: Failure to lawfully flee from this photo
Count Four: Incecent exposure of ass crack
Count Five: Casuing sudden sickness of fifteen citizens and horrifying countless others
Count Six: Noise violation for singing the following parody to Rhinestone Cowboy:

"I've been been gorging on food to long, wearing clothes that are wrong.
I'm showing my crack on these dirty beaches on holiday.

Where skinny is the name of the game, and fat guys get washed away,
like ice cream in the rain.

It's been a load of mass consumption, on the way to my next function
But I'm going to be where the slab of salami is free.

Like a Fatman Cowboy..."

If you come in contact with the above suspect, please use caution. Do not approach with food
or beverage in hand. Contact your local gym and request subject do three months of intensive exercise followed by forty hours of an instructional class on proper wardrobe attire.