Girlfriend insurance

Amanda and her mom
You see that picture? That’s my hot friend Dizzles and her hot mother, Pati.

That right there is what I like to call “Girlfriend Insurance”.

Let me explain: you ever see a hot chick and then meet her mom and her mom is all fat and not hot at all? And you think, “What the fuck? How the hell did that happen?” You might even wonder if your friend is adopted. Either way, you probably don’t give it a second thought.

But you should.

Cuz what you’re looking at there, my friends, is the future.

Like it or not, chicks turn into their mothers. It happens to all of them. Yes, every single one. I can’t explain it, I’m not a scientist or nothing. I didn’t go to college and I don’t even know how to read or write. I have to dictate these blogs to my helper monkey, Alfonse. I’m an idiot, happy now? Send me bananas.

You’re probably thinking, “nah, not my girlfriend!” or maybe you don’t give a shit because you’re not planning on sticking around more than a few months anyway, but if you ARE and you DO (give a shit), trust me, it’s gonna happen.

Perhaps you’re not super-shallow like me. Perhaps you think I’m an asshole. You could even be one of those people who thinks the world is flat and the sun revolves around the earth. Maybe you think ice cream grows on trees in the middle of Cotton Candy Forest behind Jellybean Mountain. I don’t know.

Look, we’re getting off the point here. I’m trying to help you people but all you wanna do is crucify me for thinking it’s OK to punch a midget if he’s dressed up like a baby. It’s like my Nana always said, “You’ve got pudding pop juice all over your sweater and you’re asking Grandma if you can borrow her Jet-Ski? Wake up, boy! The world ain’t gonna change your diapers for you unless your poop is made of gold!”

And that old bitch was right.

My friend Dizzles is hot and she is guaranteed to stay hot because her mom is hot. That’s called “Girlfriend Insurance”. I mean shit, look at them! I honestly can’t tell which one is hotter. Don’t make me pick. Besides, we’re not here to talk about whether or not I’ve thought about these two making out with each other in a hot tub. Because I have. And I only said “making out” cuz my mom reads this blog and I don’t want any boyfriends or fathers kicking my ass.

What the hell was my point? Jesus Christ, I don’t even remember. Go Red Sox?



  1. NOMAHHHHH! He doesn’t play for them anymore but I appreciate the Sox reference. I’m glad you used some tact and stopped where you did because if you had gone any further than wishing a mom and her daughter to make out that would have been gross.

  2. I always masturbate into postage stamps. Otherwise, I’d never get anything mailed, what with my lack of salivary glands, and all. By the way, have you guys got your Christmas cards yet?

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