Muammar Al Khadafi

It’s not your fault, you know…Danny…

We all need “release” of some kind.

Women  - possibly your vegan types, although I don’t see those types as being very passionate, but what the hell do I know – often crave chocolate as their internal orgasm stimulus…

(Oops!! Can I say “orgasm” on this blog? Hmmmm…you know, I have no ugly Blogger glaring blue and orange on horrendous white background Content Warning Disclaimer page..for legality purposes, heretofore, I shall use the phrase “Big M” when referring to said…wouldn’t want to get sued for the countless maxed-out credit card bills I have, you know…whew! Yes, the “Big M”…

Well, there IS a rather x-rated story that goes along with that phrase but then I’d HAVE to have one of those ugly Disclaimer pages and they are SO ugly, sooooo, you know, story best left in the Tickle Trunk of Time!)

Yes, women often have chocolate.

Why then can’t Danny have hamburger?

Both aren’t good for ya, “They” say.

And by the way, just in case you’ve been wondering all your life who “They” are, well, they are short, rotund, bald guys, twins actually, in sky-blue button down shirts with white plastic pen guards in their breast pockets…they’ve always worn horn-rimmed glasses, you know, the heavy, industrial type sooooo attractive in the 70s…I mean, where would all our political leader memories be without those babies! Anyhoo, yes, two bald twins, their slacks a dark navy covered in dust and not been ironed, well, never have been ironed, their leather sole brogues (and if you’re too young to know what a “brogue” is, leave B3 at once! You will die here!) scuffed and worn well beyond the Nixon Administration. Yep, those guys are “They”…

And who are they, those “They” guys, who say chocolate and hamburger is bad anyhoo? It’s not like people get hugely fat from both and die of massive coronaries by their mid-forties…(oh, wait a sec…strike that last comment…frig! I HATE when those “They” guys are right! Makes me wanna scream to the nearest all-niter drug store and buy a double layered box of Whitman's Samplers (chocolates for you ill-educated on the finer fare that can be purchased at a 24 hour pharmacy, late at night, when just another viewing of “An Officer and A Gentleman” cannot be done without the mysterious goodness of just one more sugary-over-the-top cheap ass chocolate!)

Okay, okay, so you can die from yummy stuff, well, hell, like this world is manageable without yummy stuff at all…I say nay on that premise!

It’s yummy stuff that gets us through the icky shit in life (can I say “shit…oh geez…man, inching ever closer to that freakin’ Disclaimer page…shit! Oops! Said it again…sigh…hey, by the way, can I say “freakin’”???)…soooo, if Danny needs to get his rocks off with fast food burgers while his kick-ass vegan wife is AWOL, is that really HIS fault?

I think not.

We all need internal “Big M” stimulus from time to time…you know…as a substitute for the external “Big M” we may not be getting from time to time…

And yes, unfortunately, those internal yummies often push the bar, as it were, on the successful completion of said button into said button-hole…I mean, who of us don’t have a size 10 AND a size 12 pair of Wrangler jeans that are ageing in one’s closet because the Jaws of Life couldn’t get one’s ass in them? (Oh……hang on……..no one is putting their hands up but me…oops…frig! Can I say “frig” on this blog without a Disclaimer Page and does anyone know where I can buy a used Jaws of Life from a fire department station that’s, say, closing its door maybe ‘cause of budget cuts…just wondering…sigh…)

Yes, Danny, we ALL have that need, you know.

Now, some of us may feign an attempt at exercise, God knows you can’t use that stair-climber as a laundry dryer ALL the time, friends might talk…and I just HATE that - talking friends - that’s like water to a cat for MsBurb…honestly!

Never been a Teamster myself, Dan,  sounds like a heavy burden…all that pension stealing, mafia-stronghold power grabbing, fixed ballot union voting…it’s enough to make your head spin in your cement grave, right next to old Jimmy H. I wonder of he ever ate hamburger or a sugary goodness from a Whitman’s sampler? Hell if he is now though, boy, being neck-deep in the cement foundation of an old Datsun plant on the south side of Tokyo Bay! (Oh, heck….did I just type that out loud? Sorry. Was supposed to keep THAT a secret…well hell if I’m ever gonna be made a Teamster now boy! sigh…)

Yep, Danny, it’s all okay. You can’t climb stairs like you used to, button the top button of your favourite jeans and have less energy to let “Little Danny” out for a naughty stroll as much as you’d like…but you dream, right, of the night when your vegan Goddess pulls out that cooking tray and whacks on it a HUGE hunk of ground cow, with Tabasco and Lipton’s Onion soup mix…THAT night, boy, “Little Danny” doesn’t need to be told twice to come out and play I bet!

No, you keep eatin’ and bein’ you, Dan, we all love you for it…just don’t die ‘cause none of us know what we’d do without ya if you did.

As for that internal “Big M” we get from eating hamburger and chocolate…hey…hamburger and chocolate do NOT need batteries, okay, and we don’t have to buy them in stores whose windows are covered over with brown paper, with large “XXXX”s splattered all over them, do we? We’re basically improving the environment one yummy, fattening mouthful at a time!

Or, that’s how I’ll see it tonight when I grab my car-keys and head to nearest all-night drugstore looking for my edible orgasm, I mean “Big M”…oops, did I JUST open my big keyboard mouth again?! Ah, WHO CARES! Disclaimer pages don’t look THAT ugly, do they?