January 31, 2013 by kitcac
This week, I have said a number of things that I wouldn’t have expected to:
“Its definitely poo”
“I am going to crush up some pills and put them in your drink if you don’t leave me alone”
“I did have a spare penis shaped pinata but the dog bit the testicles off”.
The penis pinata was a purchase I made for Deirdre’s hen do but it was a terribly tame affair and there were definitely no strippers and no-one uttered the words “I’ve been sick in the oven gloves”.
Because it was such a tame affair, I didn’t get the opportunity to use the penis pinata that myself and my dear Mother chose on the tinterweb. Mother and I trawled a number of questionable pages before it was decided that we would buy the item described as follows:
“What’s big, pink and spits out delicious tasting treats when you beat it? A willy piñata, of course. Fill this 19-inch pecker with treats, commandeer a beating device and a blindfold and get the fun started”
I am told that this is very rude but I don’t understand any of it. I am very innocent.
Moving swiftly on, the penis pinata had been stored in my garage with some parma violet sweets and other bits hidden in it. Mr Penis met a grisly end when I left the door to the garage open and, to my horror, found that Blue Kerr had gnawed his testicles off and was running around the garden with them in his mouth.
I don’t think that I should say any more about the incident. Good night.