Bonerology

4:09 p.m.

Ah, thank you, hot apple cider. Truly, you are my only friend.

...

Ow! Shit! You fucking burned my tongue, hot apple cider! I'll see you in hell!

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Last night Colt, Joe and I went to IHOP with the intent to hit up their neverending pancakes.

Joe wussed out and ended up buying a chicken strip meal - for his three sides he chose french fries....mashed potatoes....and a baked potato. Yeah.

Colt and I, though, we went all the way, man - pancakes galore. Well, sort of. As it turns out, you can only eat so many pancakes before they start to taste like some kind of sphincter and you don't want to even touch anymore. In my case, I hit the top at about seven.

I learned an important lesson that night. If there's one thing you don't want, it's pancakes that never end. You want the pancakes to end. If they perpetuate themselves indefinitely, your intestines will eventually explodify in a technicolor flash of boysenberry.

Later we adjourned to Colt's place to watch Underworld. After watching the movie a second time I can still safely say that Kate Beckinsale's ass gave one of the finest performances of its entire career. That woman was made to wear form-fitting leather.

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Speaking of movies, I went back and watched Big Trouble in Little China a while back - that movie is still great after all these years. I remember loving it when I was a kid, so it might just be nostalgia maknig me say this, but John Carpenter needs to get off his ass and make another movie that's so delightfully cheesy.

Man, remember when Kurt Russel was a badass? What the hell happened? From eyepatch-sporting Snake Pliskin to some toupee-wearing hockey coach. How the mighty have fallen.

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MXC (Most Extreme Elimination Challenge) just came up with a euphemism for boobs that I'd never heard before: Mommy Bags. Nice.

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If I were Mayor McCheese, I'd be picking up all the ladies. All I'd have to do is walk up to the woman of my choice and say, "Hey, baby, how'd you like to see my all beef patty?" And if that wasn't enough, my head would make a delicious post-coital snack for my girl.

I salute you, Mayor McCheese. May the Hamburgler never burgle your noggin. Robble robble.

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I think every guy my age wonders at one point or another what it would be like to take viagra and have a boner for hours and hours.

Maybe that's just me.

Regardless, it would at least give me an excuse for all those embarrassing times I get caught with a hard-on in public places. If a woman starts giggling, I can just inform her that I'm performing a scientific experiment on the effects of hard-on-inducing medical marvels on young, virile men such as myself. She will no doubt be impressed by my sacrifices for science and will offer to assist in my bonerology research.

Yep, that's exactly how it would happen.

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