...that was very nearly the name of my top secret super pervo porn site. As it is, I'm not entirely happy with the name it has now and I'm thinking of changing it to something bluesy, like 'Stavin Chain' (extra points if you can tell me what that means, bonus triple megamonster points if you can give me BOTH definitions off the top of your head. For obvious reasons MJ is automatically disqualified from this competition.)
One of the things that I did change was the 'statement of purpose' on the sidebar. I think part of it bears repeating here. Remember; I'm not talking about this blog. I've had worse things than a guy in a Gumby suit here.
"This is a vanilla site. You won't run into anyone dressed like Gumby with sturgeon gaffs through their nipples. Although at some point I might provide the link to the 'Mr. Hands vs. the Enumclaw Horse' video because I feel everyone owes it to themselves to watch a man get ridden by a horse, and see firsthand why that's not such a good idea. I mean you'd think by the year 2006 that whole issue would have been settled but apparently one man missed that day in health class. Never skip health class, folks. You could get assraped by a horse and die with your abdominal cavity full of Mr. Ed's love guck. Would your mom be proud? "My son died hemorrhaging on a gurney in the emergency ward when the quarterhorse he was dating ruptured his bowel with it's dick." All because because you were mokin da doink and missed the class where they told everyone that something the approximate length and width of a sculling oar doesn't belong up your butt, particularly when its being propelled into that position by an animal used to DRAG BEER WAGONS...No.
No, she would not.