Life’s Most Important Question

35 Years Old And What Did I Get?  Another Day Older And Deeper In Crap

Happy birthday to me; not you Gilbert. To me.

So, what did you get me? I got you something—and its kick ass awesome. On this soon to be national holiday, I have decided to give the ultimate gift to the world. No, not my life on a cross so the gates of heaven will open and you insolent pukes can have everlasting life—besides that’s really an empty gesture—if he really was the son of god, how hard is it to die? Plus couldn’t have god, oh I don’t know, just opened up the fucking gates himself? He’s god for christ’s sake—omniscient, omnipotent—ring a bell? And don’t even get me started on this “only” son of god bullshit either–He’s god, he can make more.

Any who, my ultimate gift is the answer to the most important question in life. The one that has perplexed every man, woman and child. The one that has gone unanswered through the ages. That’s right, from here on out, we will all be able to quickly get the answer to that all important question:


How much have I shit in my life?

Yesterday I gave you the answers to my historical shitting ability. Today, with my crapulator, you can find out about yours.

Your welcome.

No one gives a fourth of a cum covered turd what you think, but please don't let that stop you from spreading your insightful wit to the world by commenting below. Or fuck, you're such a pussy-eating faggot you're probably interested in the rss feed of this shitty site. Oy vey.

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Black eyes, cigarette burns, broken bones, born addicted to crack, white supremacy tattoos: None of those come close to signaling that you're a horrible parent like having a fat kid.