—Meh, I suppose I could spin you all some elaborate tale about why the little guy has decided to cool his heels this weekend, but the truth is, his heart is just not in it.
And as the old saying goes, trying to dance when your heart’s not in it is like trying to bowl in a suit of armor while a rival knight keeps poking at you with one of those long pointy jousting poles, and the belligerent redneck on the lane next to yours—having polished off several pitchers of Bud—has decided that every time you get ready to roll a ball, he’s going to start singing the late BW Stevenson’s “My Maria” in a voice that can only be described as “aspiring to average.”
Maybe next week, though.
Damn. You pump-faked me again Nowitski.
You know, I don’t think you even have an armadillo. You’re just making this shit up.
Let this farce go. We all know there is no armadillo.
BECAUSE OF THE LEPROSY!
Jeff,
Before you start feeling bad again about all the fevered calls for the Dancing ‘Dillo. And lamenting the fact that, once again, you’ll be forced to spin another web of lies to placate the frothing masses, just pause for a moment to ask yourself this: how many of THEM, those who would DEMAND the dance, are themselves dancing? Who among them would be the first to dance? [and, no, Ace or McGehee doesn’t count].
I have the moral authority to raise these questions, Jeff. Because . . . . . I was one of them. I was a Dillo-hawk.
I think any party that supports dancing armadillos is going to lose Natasha’s vote, anyway.
TW: “congress”. WE’RE DOOMED!
Doooooooooooooooooooooomed!
– Well not really “Doomed” doomed actually. Just sort of caught ‘dillo-less’, which I guess in some marsupial circles could be considered doomed. But artistically speaking, being stiffed again by a scaley land rodent, and one that has still to show us the slightest evidence of any real four-footed talent I might add, is not quite as bad as say being caught on a stuck elevator with Jane Hampster, who even if she did shave her legs, would still be one bra cup short of a true hottie, and besides who amoung us could stand all the screaming and carrying on. Ummmm….What was I talking about again…..
– Hmmmmmm…Come to think of it you’re right….. We’re all fucking doomed!
Jeff, your recent ruse spinning tales of dillo adventures is wearing thin as many of us have decided you’ve sent him on a mission to a certain Çommunity College to audit classes and determine the extent of various neerdowell plans to defame you and diddle your male neighbors stinky crevasses.
Hope I haven’t ruined anything. It just wouldn’t be sporting for the little fellow to stay around through student teacher evaluation.
Regards,
Jonathan
I’m picturing Coco being forced to strip in Fame.
Heartwrenching, reall.
Oh yea of little faith!
T/W: above. Ha!
maybe if he started dancing he would remember how much he loves it. meh, like i’m one to talk.
tw: example, yeah, yeah, i know, i spent how long “retired”?
I know how you feel Jeff.
Eating dinner out of a skull in a cremation ground kinda enforces the dust to dust theory.
Envigorating, no?
A shot of Black Bush please, barkeep.
Free. Free at last.
Sounds like yyou’re “ahead of the news cycle” there, bucko.
Hmmm.
Next week there better be some dancing. Or else I’ll call up Bruno. After that there may not be any dancing.
But there will be ‘dillo flambe!
lol.
…trying to dance when your heart’s not in it is like trying to bowl in a suit of armor while a rival knight keeps poking at you with one of those long pointy jousting poles…
Is that a gay reference? Just checking.
Because you love COCK so much, y’know.
SB: their
If John was the walrus, then there is no reason that actus can’t be the ‘dillo. It just makes sense.
Also, full contact medieval bowling. In the right market, this could be yuge on late night cable.
I;m going to get ahead of the news cycle here and state that I have it from impeachable sources that the land crustacean will not be dancing next week.
I can’t say I blame him. The news that the Republican Party has lost Natasha’s vote would put anybody in a funk.
Still, all is not lost. We haven’t heard yet whether we’ve also lost Boris’ vote.
Hmmm… I feel a song coming on, to that tune…
Armadillo; so many times I’ve knelt to pray
Dance a Friday night away with my slinky Dasypodidae
Cingulata; your order never has no fun
I’d cross the road for you just to prove it can be done.
Armadilloooooo-ooo-ooooo, Armadilloooooo-ooo-ooooo, I miss you.
Armadillo; your alibis are wearin’ thin
Can’cha kick your heels up, don’t you that it ain’t no sin?
Disappointment; you know it nearly makes me swoon
You’re a piece of roadkill if you don’t show some day soon
When will your footwork ever meet my gaze
Maybe you’re just part of Jeff’s drunken daze
Armadilloooooo-ooo-ooooo, Armadilloooooo-ooo-ooooo, I miss you.
that brought tears to my eyes Mr. Inspector.
“I suppose I could spin you all some elaborate tale about why the little guy has decided to cool his heels this weekend, but the truth is, his heart is just not in it.”
‘The Little Guy,’ you’re talkin’ ‘bout me, right Jeff? My heart’s in it. Whip me out, I’m good to go. Let’s slap some guys around what deserve a good cockslapping. Where’s Pablo? I need a fluff.
TW: I kid you not – big
Oh look, the obsession with Jeff’s cock continues. And apparently, my cock weighs heavily on the minds of the Sadly, Still Breathing! crowd as well. They do love them some cock!
If I pump a wad down your throat, will you promise to go gargle it at home?
Someone has to be willing to make sacrifices around here…
“my cock weighs heavily”
I doubt that.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a look of misery and dejection on the face of my daughter as I just did a moment ago. She just couldn’t understand why the armadillo would refuse to dance when so many things are wrong in this country. “Doesn’t the armadillo care about us anymore?” she asked pitifully.
I sat down with her on the sofa and (as calmly as I could) tried to explain to her why the armadillo seems to be abandoning his country. “Honey, I think his boss, Mr. Goldstein, is using the armadillo as some kind of symbolic signifier that expresses something the rest of us dumb fuck sticks are barely cognitively competent to process, let alone explain. You see, he wasn’t sure if he was going to be drunk today or not, and so he planned another armadillo post to give his readers something to hang on to…â€Â
I tried to keep my voice steady, but it became increasingly difficult – the rage and feelings of helplessness were just too much. I think my daughter could tell something was wrong. I found myself at such a loss for words – nothing made any sense; nothing makes sense anymore. I finally had to admit, “Honey, I just don’t know – I don’t know what’s going on at Protein Wisdom anymore…”
When I finished her lower lip started to tremble and her eyes began to fill with tears, “Daddy” she said, “why is Goldstein doing this to the country?” Well, that was it for me: I finally fell apart. She just fell into my arms and we both began sobbing for several minutes.
For once she had to comfort me and get me back on my feet. Sometimes I just think it’s too much, but seeing the strength in my young daughter’s voice helped me to get through.
Robert,
I’ve had to explain each and every weekend to my six year old grand daughter why the ‘dillo don’t dance. I made the mistake of telling her one of Jeff’s stories one day in the car. Now she asks every week if the ‘dillo danced – and I have to relate the latest lame excuse.
I do spend quite a bit of time “cleaning up” some of the stories.
And yet, here you are with my name on your quivering lips, perverse thoughts engulfing your fetid little soul and one question resonating through your sputtering little lump of grey matter: Where’s Pablo?
There’s a thin line between love and hate, cupcake.
“There’s a thin line between love and hate, cupcake.”
But I don’t feel either of those about you, Pablo. Love? Hate? Nah. Amused contempt, to be sure, but nothing so strong as a real emotion. You’re my fluffer. It’s a professional relationship.
Obsession, then? I mean, you’re here after all.
And I hate to have to break the obvious to you, but you’re a deranged troll and not actually Mr. Goldstein’s penis. It’s easy to tell, because Jeff’s cock would be more literate and the insults would probably carry a little bite, if you know what I mean.
“jeff’s cock would be more literate and the insults would probably carry a little bite, if you know what I mean.”
But the taste, Pablito, tell us how it tastes.
Pablo, who do you like better? Me, or Charles Johnson’s Johnson?
“Sadly, No! reader pretending…” is a phony. You can tell because he didn’t misspell “Sadly, No!”
Well, I’m gonna go out and spend some time with the wife and kid today—we’re heading to the park, and then out for dinner—so, alas, I won’t be around to delete the rest of the “Jeff Goldstein’s Cock” comments that show up as this particular troll uses his 5th or 6th IP and email address to continue posting here.
But I’ll delete them when I get home.
In the meantime, enjoy the hi-larity of a Sadly, NO! reader pretending to be my COCK.
And try not to imagine him spending his weekend creating fake email addresses and using proxy servers in order to post comments on a website in the guise of another guy’s meat.
Because then you’ll just end up feeling sorry for the guy. Though not as sorry as you likely did for the guy who spent 5600 words collecting every instance of my mention of the word COCK in order to deliver us an “Adlerian psychology” “case study” that concludes, ironically enough, that I’m criminally insane and obsessed with cock.
Because then you’ll just end up feeling sorry for the guy.
Will we see the strength in his words? Or hear the purple throbbing veins in his member?
Eww, I just squicked myself out.
That advice is just a wee bit late, don’t you think?
What’s worse is that I’ve also got the image of Prince Charles and his desire to be Camilla’s tampon now soiling my brainpan. Curse you, troll!
I would own this thread today, if not for that effin’ troll!
Turing = feet, as in Did you know that, in the Bible, “feet” is often a euphemism for a man’s naughty bits?
His heart is not in it????? Who gives a shit? What is he, some leftwing commie pinko dillo trying to sort out his feelings? He has obligations and responsibilities here! Someone grab a shockstick and get the little bastard out here.
I just figured it out!! The troll that is posting as Jeff’s Cock is…..ready for it…..
…..JUST A FUCKING PLASTIC DILDO
He ain’t even a real dick!!!
Probably a strap on too!!