You remember how much fun sugar was when you were a kid? The joy and endless bounds of  exuberant, hysterical bubbly lunacy you feel that causes you to race around the back yard like as if you a rabid animal foaming at the mouth. That first gulp of soda which introduced what some might consider to kittie cocaine. How about pixie stixs?

 Yeah, you know that wondrous fruit flavored candy that was and is a refined, high-test form of  sugar cane that turned ordinary children into raving mauditable, speaking in tongues lunies. Now they were anything but nonaddictive. It was almost like a slow progression of dependency. First you and your friends were eating the delectable sweets like this:

And what at first was just a few sips soon turned into this orgy of red, blue, green, and orange powdered euphoric depravity of your childhood innocence rotting away. An innocence that would soon decay into this:

  One day you get dared by your friends to snort a stick, and wham bam! Just covering your taste buds with sweetness just isn't enough, you just have to fill your nasal cavity with the powdery fruitiness. And then well, nothing else matters; it's all about that next paper straw of legalized candy depravity that offers you an experience similar to that of "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factor", but only to leave your with burning nostrils, sweet tasting post nasual drip, sleepless nights and pissed off parents. Under the influence of the supposedly harmless treat, the adults in your life have no other choice, but to believe that you have ADHD, are mentally disturbed, or even austic. So you get dosed up with Ritalin, get thrown in the special ED call with those kids who pretend that their constantly driving trucks, wear mittens and have signs hanging are their necks that say "Don't Touch! Will Bite!". The kids that have creepy imaginary friends named Capt. Dinky the happy psychotic, joyful ferret clown. They have stabbed other teachers with the plastic craft scissors and drawn blood. Plus, they have a note from they psychologist that they can't be around animals.

What happens after? Well you become dependent on antipsychotic medication, confused sexual identities, G.E.D. programs, community colleges, dating on "Craig's List", miscarriages, and eventually civil union with a cross gender humanoid who calls his genitals "vanis", "pegina", or a he-clit". Why? It's all because of that pumped up jr. crystal meth called "Pixy Stix".

So what can be done? How do we stop this scourge of  sweet, destructive, sugary goodness? How do we raise awareness? What do we do? Sue the candy corporation, start a Splenda withdrawal and maintenance program? It's hard to say. It's just candy right? Just like pain killers are okay because they're prescribed. So while more needless children's lives are destroyed by behavioral problems from those devil straws, we as a culture shrug it off as nothing more than kids indulging in mischievous treats, and behaving like "kids". What ever happened to good old "Babe Ruths?" or "Snickers". But no, now we have hyper pumped up "Candy ", that because it's made under the name "Wonka" is okay. So, maybe there just isn't that easy of an answer. Just like Reagan's "War On Drugs" which resulted in the sale of weapons to Iran to be given to right wing death squads in El Salvador which General Oliver North was later accused of. And now the Republics are secretly trying to find the "Gold Of Olie North". Just like that elborate conspiracy of Oliver North's Gold, it's complicated. So, again I don't know what can be done. There are no easy answers when it comes to the corruption of naive, fluffy innocence. But one this can be said:

DAMN YOU NESTLY! DAMN YOU WONKA! DAMN YOU! WHY! WHY!
WWWWWWWHHHHHHHYYYYYYYY!

Okay, it's joke time! Yea!

So here it is:

What floats, is black and white and red all over?

You know the answer? What we're gonna say a newspaper? Well, it's not. It's a dead penguin that's been malled to death by a Leopard Seal. Ha Ha! Bet you didn't that one coming.

And now we come to the best part of this whole blog/literary magazine: "What Really Chaffs My Nuts".

In this issue the topic will be people who avoid important conversations by ignoring what you have to say, and changing the subject. What exactly do I mean? Well take this for example, my wife will say something to my mother, and I'll try to discuss it, and what happens? It usually goes something like this:

Lou: Honey, why the hell did you say that to my mother? Huh?

Wife: I'm sorry! I forgot that you didn't want me to say anything.

Lou: Well no shit! Why would I want my mother to know to that I have a fascination for surgical instruments, latex, and four point restrains! What the fuck!

Wife: I'm sorry!

Lou: No, no! Damn it! Now my mom gonna be telling me to make sure I'm safe, and to always us a safety word ...

Wife: Ooooh! I gotta peee! Why do I always do this! Decide to wait to go until we get home to tinkle!

Lou: Honey!

Wife: And your gonna kill me, but I saw this really cute pair of shoes, but they cost about two hundred dollars!

Lou: What the fuck!
(The only sound that can be heard is that of me, Lou, bashing my fucking head against the wall.)

Yes, those are the kind of people that are so desperate not to have to take about an uncomfortable topic that they change the subject, like trying to get a straight answer from a politician. I mean what the hell does which restaurant having the best chinese food have anything to do with why the hell your best friend got drunk and then grabbed your wife's ass? And what makes it even worse is when they bring up the subject, and then when the conversation goes south then they make a wise crack. In all honesty if you bring up the topic of pubic lice, and then the discussion strikes a nerve, do us all a favor and do try to turn it around on those involved. We're not the ones who were trying to extract information about how you know if you got pubic, crotch dwelling insects, exposing we're impulse to fuck anything that has a hole and a heart beat. And by the way use the special shampoo and that special blue comb.

That's what really pisses me off is that inconsiderate bullshit like that. Like I just did. Did that whole clip have anything to do with what we were talking about. No! Was it just a way of me distracting you from the fact that I was completely and totally unprepared for this segment, maybe! Oh look! It's Jessica Alba!

   Doesn't piss you off, the fact that I'm being such a hypocrite right now? I know that's the point I'm trying to make. Awww! Look Puppies and kittens!

   But anyway, I know that when I someone does this kind of thing I just wanna slice the flesh off of their body  and feed it them. Yo! Kool! A dog on a skateboard!

Anyway that's what really chaffs my nuts!


So until next time my friends,

Lou Ford.

Hello my friends, this is Lou Ford. Due to me being on vaction I may not be able to submit a full issue, and so for your approvement I give to you an episode of the "Happy Tree Friends". I'll see you in a week. Enjoy!

Lou Ford.

Ain't  love grand. Don't you wish that this was you, especially you guys. A ball gage in you mouth, a sexy cartoon woman riding you like a horse, and who knows maybe a couple of finger in your ass.  Ya know the realization that you've have a psychotic break from reality because you can't possibly have sex with a cartoon, yet you demand that you significant other be just like said character. You become so obsessed that you by a halloween mask of that cartoon and plead for your lover to wear it during sex, but enough about my life.   Well, anyway welcome to another issue of "Dirty Filthy Snuff". After that embarrassing admission here's something to cause you to forget.

And just in case that didn't cause to forget about my sexual fantasies involving Lois Griffith here's something else. Damn it I brought it up! I'm a fuck dump ass!

I hope that that worked, helping you to forget about the fact that I try to bend over and suck my dick when I think ... shit. here's something else to help you forget.

Damn it! I did it again. Fucking made the situation by presenting the exact thing I fantasize, being tyed up by a sexy, leather clad, mistress who has no real interest in anything except how much time is left on the clock for our session. That disinterest results in her dishing out a large, immense, prodigious amount of pain that others would as being inappropriate. And while it would be viewed as unethical the sting would be so bad that I couldn't help be cream ..." Oh shit did I just write that down? Wow, I really do have issues. So, I'll try this image to distract uyofrom the fact that I just shared way too much information. Like wanting to oil ... no, just look at this pic.

Now there we go, we've all have forgotten everything that has been written before, now go vomit up whatever you haven't already and I'll see you back here in a little while.

Okay, are you done. Wipe off the corner of your mouth, and will get down to it. My name is Lou Ford and welcome once again to another issue of "Dirty Filthy Snuff". I'll really start this issue with two poems written by two friends of mine. The first one is by a woman named Joanie. It's titled "A Seed In Time".

A seed in time grows light divine 

along rivers and trails

rocks and nails 

forms each perfect limb 

imprinted within 

the path to home.

Along the way we stop to play

honoring our karma's

throughout the day.

Watching these seeds grow 

in our gardens of love

lets us remember 

we are held from above. 

Our great spirits Fathers inconceivable 

care penetrates each feather 

of luminous hair

As seed gives birth to seed

as we nurture our human need 

to grow, to shape, to plow, to make 

each child's soul 

know its goal

From father to son

the funs just begun!

A cosmic Father's Day!

 Ridiculous or not it's creative and pretty interesting. The next one coming up is a poem of particular interest for me. It is by Ian. It is titled "Family Man".

I am discontented 

You are disconcerted 

Disaster and destruction,

we've flirted 

Then we fucked.

Now we have kids.

Wasn't that sweet. He really struck a nerve with that. Just fills you full of joy, hope, and renews our faith in love.

Look at the bliss all around us. So much joy, so much vitality, so much bullshit! Sure we maybe happy, but it's not through utopia of companionship alone. No, it;s usually after something like this:

That's what happens. Right? Isn't it that boy meets girl, they like each other, they date, they fuck, they marry, but then it all changes. Then there's; pregnancy, children, mortgages, in-laws that disapprove of you, boring sex, no sex, affairs, emotional castration, spousal abuse, rape, attempted murder, restraining orders, rebellious kids, substance abuse and addiction, and eventually a pathetic death when the prostitute doesn't cut the rope after you climax. The police find your stiff body swinging from shower curtain rod with in silk stocks, lace panties, garter belt  and all. Isn't wonderful to fully understand what in our future? 

Now several messages by those not sponsoring us.

     

Have you wanted memorabilia from your favorite celebrity, but don't have the money for that special one of a kind souvenir? Well we may have the answer. What about the stuff that celebrities could have owned, but didn't? That sound good? If so then our staff at "All Most Famous, But Not Quite Auctioneers" have the items  you need. Take for instance the life vest that Natalie Wood could have worn the day she drowned, but didn't.       

Here's Natalie Wood.

And here are some life vest, life vests she never wore.

How about the plunger used to unclong Elvis' toilet after he died. 

Here is Elvis, we all remember the king.

And here is a plunger.

And now for a limited time we're offering this almost original one in a million, would be a diamond in the ruff if it weren't glass, item. Do you know what that is? Do ya? Huh huh huh?! Guess what, guess what guess what?! ?

It is the Narcan that River Phenix didn't the night he overdosed on the curb outside the "Viper Room". 

This is River Phenix, right bellow:

  

And here is the Narcan:

Oh shit that's fucking Crystal Meth. Damn it where's the photo of the ampt, come on where did I put that picture. Where, where on, where. Wait here it is:

  

Shit, that isn't supposed to be up there, damn it, I'm, gonna get fucking sued or something for vulgar and explised material. Goddamn image of the drug use, that's not very appealing, wait a minute that's the whole point of this publication. It's fucking vulgar, as vulgar as the idea of this whole idea, so if you have an idol who you'd want to have memorabilia of, but your welfare hasn't come in yet, then call us; the "Almost Famous But Not Quite Auctioneers". It's the place where the items have never belonged to a celeb, but they could have been. And anyway when your this broke what difference does it make? 

So for all your maybe possible memorabilia call us at 1-800-fukingworthlessshit or at www.allmostfamousbutnotquitesowhythehellyoubuyingitdumpass.com

Oh shit there's the Narcan pic. Yeahhhhh! Call Now.

Up next on the agenda are more pick up for you to try. Welcome to "Does That Work With Everyone You Say It To?".  Some might make you laugh, some might get you slapped, and some might get arrested, but one thing is for sure by the end of the day if you some of these lines it'll be garrenteed that you'll be going to hell. Or on the sex offenders list. That being said let us proceed.   

1. Can I play with my matchbox cars on your gianormus, colossal tits?

2. Do you own, or rent? When asked "what?" the response is simply "The space on your chest for those mountains you call breasts".

3. Is that your camel toe, or do you just have a peach half in your pants?

4. Is that fish smell because you haven't washed your pussy, or do I make you horny?

5. Do you like strawberries because I got wipe cream in my pants?

6. You wanna do a 68? You go down on me , and I'll owe you one.

7. If I flip a coin what are the chances of me getting head?

8. Do you like sewing cause I wanna weave my DNA with yours?

9. Do you work at a Subway? Because you just gave me a foot long.

10. Do you donuts because I'd love to glaze you?  

  

And now it's joke time, and here is a gem:

A black guy, a white guy, and an asian guy are walking down a country road. All three had just been laid off, and had no place to go. Luckily they had come upon an enormous fruit farm where they grew every kind of fruit imaginable. Desperate, they decided to go as the farmer if he would show them some mercy, and board them form the night. 

Knocking on the door they were greeted by a burly good old boy, and a beautiful, radiant, sexy young woman.

Asking if they could stay the night, the farmer answered, "Ya'll welcome here, but if any ya bump uglys with my daughter then I'm kill you."

Knowing that that beautiful woman was the farmers daughter at first they refrained from engaging in anyway with her despite her flirting. Once the house had gone to bed, all three had succumbed to their desires, and slept with the farmer's daughter. In the morning they were awaken by a shotgun in their faces. Being lead out into the fields, the farmer lined them up.

Looking at them he said "Ya'll dishonoreded my daughter and I should shot you, but I'll give ya'll a chance, if ya pick a fruit and you can shove a 100 pieces of it up your ass I'll let you live."

The White guy was up first and he choose apples. He was up to 30, 31 ... but then he hold anymore, and they all fell out. The Farmer shot him dead. Up next was the black guy. Now the black was clever, and he chose grapes. He was going, getting up to 97, 98, 99 ... but then he burst into laughter causing all the grapes to fall out of his ass. 

The farmer looked at him, and said "I gotta shoot ya, but before I do, what happened? You were so close? Why'd you laugh?" 

The black guy, ever aware of his demise, exclaimed "Cause my man's out there picking water melons!"

HA HA HA! Moving along.

 Up next is the the section entitled "Questions that make you say hhhhhuuuummm?"

Which is more painful: Loosing your virginity to a cactus or going down on Judge Judy to get out of pay restitution? 

Think about it and get back to me.

 


           There we go, a more realistic, dirtier version of Family Circus. Just imagine if one day you opened the paper to the funnies and there was the Father Family Circus fucking his wife. That'd be a new lesion for the day, huh? 

And now it's time for the thing we've all been waiting for, it's time for "What Really Chaffs My Nuts". In this episode I will talking about the bureaucratic bullshit letters that we recieve when a job, or the government rejects us. Now I know that this sounds strange, but at my wife's job they had laid off a large portion of their work force. My wife got lucky and was spared. When she told me that I asked if they really did include a letter, a polite and politically correct letter explaining that they were laying you off. Now I have never seen one, but getting rejection letters from colleges and such, I can only imagine. It would probably be something like this:    

Dear Sir or Madame:

We are writing to inform you that regretfully have to terminate your employment with us due to bla bla bla bla. We are sorry for this inconvenience ( or something more stronger of a meaning ) and wish you luck on your future ventures.

Now granted that that maybe a the best way to say it, but in all honesty when you've been given your walking paper, and escorted out by security, don't you think the least they could do is give you an honest letter letting you know where you stand. For instance:

Dear Sir or Madame: 

We regret to inform your dumb ass that while the higher ups are keeping their jobs, you however, counting as nothing more than overhead are now shit outta luck. In other words you've just been fucked out of a job, and while we may say we're sorry in actuality we're up in the board room laughing our ass off at your soon to be on welfare ass. Now Piss Off. 

Or Maybe this would be better for those multi-million dollar companies:   

Dear Fuckhead:

We are kinda sorry to in form you that well, due to economic problems that is forcing us to down size we have decided that you no longer fit into our financial plan. We have therefore decided to give your job to a hindi who will happily take the low wage we are offering to them rather than rummage through  the landfill that is their fuckin' home for anything recyclable. Plus to be quiet honest with your peasant ass, we CEOs don't want to give up our high brow lifestyle in order to pay you a fair wage.

I know that I personally have to support my family, a mistress, a summer home, a winter home, a yatcha, and a private jet, not to mention all the 20 dollar whores I take to flop houses where I can smoke meth and fuck or at least try to unless I'm flaccid. But what difference does it make. The whores stay until the job is done. And that's what the day labors I pick up outside delis who choke me in the shower while I masturbate every sunday while my wife is at her book club and my kids are at the mall. 

So in short while we're do regret  canning your ass, in reality things will be better without you or your fellow co-works. Here is your last pay check. Have a nice life cock sucker.

See, now wouldn't that be so much more refreshing than all that formality, nice beating around the bush. That's  what we really need, the fuck you letter that they give us. And the same should be done with rejects letters for colleges, just tell us the fuck why.  

And that's what really chaffs my nuts.

So in closing I would like to thank Seth MacFarlane, all those who have contributed, my own idiocy, and well the world for all the humor and irony it contains. On yeah thank you "Family Circus". Everything I write and do is a joke and meant for laughter. Take care until next time, 

Lou Ford