I’m not a big fan of confrontation and I do my best to ignore it on a regular basis. Sadly, the internet, it seems, has other plans. I’ve done a lot more “talky” comics lately, and mainly they tend to come when I have personal messages to convey. I tend to enjoy the orgasmic quality of getting my own bombastic viewpoint on current events out in the open – although sometimes the pretention is all for show. But as my last girlfriend said, “Behind every joke is some element of truth.” Now, had I only been making more ‘damn, I want to suck the football coach’s dick’ jokes back in those days – she might have been the wiser.
Never-the-less, in my day – I’ve had many things said about me, both positive and negative. It’s more amusing than anything else how the people who usually have the worst things to say are the ones who don’t know me at all. However, thus is the nature of the internet, isn’t it? It’s a world where you can be anything you want: the intellectual, the brute, the Asian schoolgirl… The world is yours, friends. And I call you all friends, because I think we’re to that point – right? I mean, I wouldn’t dream of overstepping that bounds with ANY of you… well, with MOST of you… well, with SOME of you (the women) but hey, it’s been said that I’m something of a player…
Those who know me well, know just how much of a “playa” I am, but for those who don’t – I’m a lecherous sow who does his damndest to lure men into a false sense of comfort and security and then tosses their salad wantonly (often in public places). And if you believe that, then you should also know that I’m a member of an alien race from a planet called Cockulor – far beyond the reaches of your puny “telescopes” and my mother-ship is right now orbiting your planet while we collect a selection of your kind to be violated repeatedly by one of our dozen two foot, prehensile, blue penises. But in truth, you can never know another man’s intentions… and in a relationship all you can really do is trust that your partner, when presented with a situation like this, to do ‘the right thing’. What-ever that might be, because my partner’s rule with me is that as long as it doesn’t involve a goat and a trampoline – it’s not “cheating”… unless it’s during lent and the goat is wearing white. Now, who’s up for coffee?!
Though, you’ll need to bring your own… cream.


I am never asking to join you for a cup of coffee again. Nor anyone else for that matter. I’m already traumatized by the tea bagging thing and now this? DAMMIT!
He will never step over any bounds with ANY woman. I know. *sigh*
Mr Kusiak,
We have your order of 10 goats and 2 trampolines ready in our wearhouse and would like to know what shipping meythod you would like us to use. Thank you.
Dirk Bronkowski
Tramp and Goat Emporium
Ogden Utah
In Seattle when some one say “We should meet for coffee.” or, “We should go to dinner.” it means just that. But if they say, “We should meet for coffee or something.” then it means let’s have sex. Anytime they add the ” … or something.” that is unwritten code for blow job, ass badgering, three way with fursuits, midget chorus and a costco tub of Miracle Whip.
Wow, that’s just pretty ill. I never thought of that by asking for a “Cup of coffee”. Pretty.. damn dude. Why don’t you just open your bed for this chub and let him be comfy in the bed for a couple days before inviting all your other chubby friends for an all week long orgy.
When I lived in the San Francisco Bay Area, I did have some buddies who invited several of us over to their place after the Sunday Eagle beer bust for “spaghetti”.
The 6 or 8 of us did have spaghetti, mind you. Eventually. After other noodle and sauce dishes. (And I dated one of the guys for a few months after that. The handcuffs at dinner were sure fun.)
And thus the euphemistic “come over for spaghetti” was born.