Before I start today, just wanted to mention that I have another word added into the Urban Dictionary:
slushveling (v.): The practice of shoveling slush (snow + water).
It’s just like regular shoveling, except you immediately throw out your fucking back.
Six inches of snow, then it started raining. I spent 2 hours slushveling, then a week at the chiropractor adjusting my new bout of scoliosis. I’m moving to Florida. Fuck this shit.
Right now, people in Arizona are all, like, ‘the fuck?’
Whatever. Confusion is what you get for picking a place like fucking Arizona to live.
From the Q&A files, I bring you Part Menage-a-Trois (‘Dear Penthouse…’) of my Question-and-Answer column.
For part one, click here and for part two click here.
This is where you ask the questions about me, and I give you some answers. *
* answers may or may not be completely wrong based on how I’m feeling and on what narcotic I’m taking at the time.
Why are you so cool? – Kate
Um. It’s, like, the middle of fucking winter here in New England.
No offense, but that was a pretty stupid question.
What shade of lipstick is your hand wearing and where can I buy it? – Deb
Actually, that is my wife’s nail polish.
As far as the color, I’m going to guess ‘some sort of red’ but in all honesty I’m just reaching at straws here.
My wife is totally going to kill me now for using her nail polish.
At least this time it’s not on my toes.
Perhaps I’ve said too much.
JD at I Do Things asked TWO questions:
Ooh, I have two questions:
1. Is there any topic that you consider off-limits? I’m guessing not, but let’s get the record straight. AND if the answer is Yes, then you need to blog about that topic in the next few weeks.
2. Will you shave MY junk so I don’t have to? Not a Brazilian or landing strip, just regular-style.
#1: Anything off limits? The only thing I RARELY touch upon (besides my prostate because I have stubby fingers) is politics and anal rape.
That is probably being redundant.
I also don’t write about politics because I’m a Republican and a sore loser and like not being audited.
#2: If you can get your husband and my wife to sign off on the permission slip, then GAME ON BABY..
However, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that you’re most likely on your own with that last one.
Since no question is too personal…
At what age did you reach your full height?
Are you taller than your children?
Since you are made of steel, does that mean your penis is always erect?
What color is your Harley?
I reached my full height by age 3. Maybe 13. Can’t remember. I’m old.
I AM currently taller than my 9 year old daughter and 6 year old son, but not by much.
At some point, non-penis related shrinkage will set in and we’ll have complete reversal of the ride-height requirement at amusement parks.
This will suck because I really like roller coasters.
Since I’m made of steel is my penis always erect?
Let’s just say that maybe I should change my name to ‘Midget Man of Balsa Wood.’
My Harley is black. Sorry. My Harley is “African American.”
Phew. Dodged a bullet there.
(FYI, JD: Race-relations are also off-limits)
“I was wondering if your rather disconcerting obsession with porn had anything to do with your being named Rodney. I mean, I see “Rod”, and I immediately think huge, hard junk and hot monkey love and, really, doesn’t everyone?” – Holly via email
My disconcerting obsession with porn is based on the fact that I am, at least the last time I checked, male.
It’s what we do.
On a related note:
Guys, I have Holly’s email address if you’re interested.
The story of HOW I got my name, though, can be found here.
And you thought this was gonna be easy.
Last but not least, Dorian via email writes:
If I shouted “Hey Moog, go put some fun between your legs!” where would you run to?
A. To your motorcycle.
B. To your wife.
C. To a lockable and inconspicuous bathroom.
D. To that shoe box on the top left hand shelf of your garage (next to the can of WD40.)
If it’s the third Sunday of every other month, my answer is definitely ‘B.’
Otherwise, I’m going with ‘A’ – my motorcycle.
Which I’m then driving to an inconspicuous bathroom with the contents of the shoe box from my garage.
It’s how I roll.
If you have something you’d like to ask me, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and put ‘Q&A’ in the subject line.
But hopefully that gives you a little peek inside of me.
Just. Like. My. Proctologist.