Kate Upton is better than you are

So once I finished my ObamaCare victory lap last night, I realized something important. I've spent far too long now writing about trivial things, such as the ongoing bankruptcy of the United States, how awful and moronic Canadian politics is getting, and how foreigners enjoy killing one another a great deal. 


Yes, the entire point of this blog is that the human spirit is suicidally stupid, but often times this depresses even me. More importantly, those things can't be very much fun for you to read. While I understand that my Armageddon fetish gets you all damp in the panties, I think it needs to be doled out in smaller doses. 

I realized that I have needs, godfuckit! And this blog hasn't been fulfilling them for far too long. I haven't been writing about life's truly important things, which obviously revolve around my penis and its strange and wonderful appetites. I understand that life isn't exclusively about depraved orgies and interesting new women within whom I'd like to implant myself, but I'll argue to my dying breath that it should be!

About a month ago, I went out with your friend and mine, the great and good Doctor Reverend. As I do my level best to avoid any social activity that doesn't involve copious amounts of alcohol, we found ourselves at a liquor store. A really nice one in Leaside.

The cashier that served us was tiny, brunette and awfully cute. Upon seeing her, I felt the familiar churning in my loins that tells me that I'm falling in love. I recognized the sensation immediately, seeing that it overtakes me about 37 times a day. Some people think this is shallow, but I would posit that they don't know what love is. If you're a regular reader of mine, you know better than to argue with me about such things. This is the kind of country wisdom that I've been bringing you for nearly a decade now.

We returned to the good Doctor's car, freshly supplied with our precious amber liquids, and I began musing about the cute LCBO girl. I pointed out that my love for her was such that I could devote my life to holding her like a puppet.

Being a doctor of divnity, so ordained by some mail-order ministry in Bakersfield, my great friend asks the truly important existential questions, and that day was no exception. He turned to me and asked "What would you make her say?"

I was haunted by the question, as you might well expect. I don't consider myself a spiritual man, which is why I need Herr Doktor as a constant presence in my life.

Then I saw the famous "Cat Daddy" video and it changed me.



The Cat Daddy video actually hypnotized me into being a better man, which is surprising, in that I always considered hypnosis to be utter bullshit and probably satanic. I found what the Quakers call "peace at the center." It was the closest to God that I've ever felt.

As my powerful prick, Christ-like in its love for everybody, quivered and throbbed in my drawers and my balls churned with Truth, I accepted a fundamental reality - that there is no doubt as to what I would make Kate Upton say. What exactly that is, I'm not going to share. Some things should stay private, after all. Isn't that what love is all about, sharing things that will never be shared with another?

This Truth has been spewing from my loins with greater frequency and in thicker volume than it ever had before, no small accomplishment, given my freakish and gluttonous carnal appetite. Several of my fuck-buddies have noticed this, too. How could they not, what with their being practically waterlogged with My Truth every time our paths cross?

The Truth is a powerful, powerful thing, to stay nothing of sticky. It has been known to hurt, especially when it gets in your eyes.

Whether I want her to or not, Kate Upton keeps dragging the Truth out of me. Upwards of a dozen times a day now. A lesser man probably wouldn't survive it. I come from sturdy stock, and I do try to stay hydrated.

Kate is 19 years old and completely shaved, just like all women should be. And it's no surprise that she's from St. Joseph, Michigan, famously the home of the American Society of Agricultural and Biological Engineers. There are only two credible explanations for being that perfect: biological engineering or being sent from the fucking future.

 


I've always known that really pretty, huge-titted, hard-nippled girls that like putting things in their mouths are superior to every other kind, but I never really knew it. I've never been one to proselytize, but Kate Upton has changed me in fundamental ways. I might very well start screaming her message to passers-by on street corners everywhere. I would have done it in an Elmo suit, but rampant, psychotic anti-Semitism has ruined that outfit for everybody.

I'm her ideal messenger. Having stuffed myself with toxic shit for some thirty years and to be still standing convinces me that I'm very probably immortal.

And to think that it all started with a girl at the Leaside LCBO. It makes me look at the provincial civil service in a whole new light.



Kate Upton .gif lovingly stolen from What Would Tyler Durden Do. The wet-t-shirt shot was ruthlesslt taken from Drunken Stepfather, who should be considered NSFW unless you work in a whorehouse. Or a morgue.