Descending into miasma

Before proclaiming you're sporting the crown of creation based on originality vis-a-vis conquests, consider how small/large it is: the tendency to equate grandiose feelings as a result of the length and girth of the nozzle used is really textbook embellishment. Think of this as a warning that it could be the reason this place has been dubbed The Den of Indickuity because it is.

Resorting to old shit by calling it Best of has been renamed Just Because the idea machine is now disabled. Funny thing, though - The days always contain the moment just DO it!. Say something
funny . . .turn me on . . .sum life up in 10 words.

Just Because: If this is how I filled the page each day, I'd be a blogger or a journal guy. I prefer the stupid stuff. A guy goes out and notices his right rear tire looks a little flat. He gets his bicycle pump and hurts his 'nads trying to pump up the truck tire. He goes in and puts ice cubes in a baggie to apply to the sore area and the phone rings. It's his brother in law who needs help with a Windows hiccup. By the time he hangs up the ice melted and puddled on the floor near the dishwasher. He forgets about the ice and thinks the dishwasher is leaking so he pulls it out after removing several screws and notices an old magazine tucked away in the rear. It's a Colliers which ceased publishing in 1957. He looked at the clock and it was 2:47. Gesundheit sans boner-material.