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Revenge of the Pervs

You must be at least this tall to read this blog.

Well, that didn't last long.

I had something on the order of three days pervert-free (present company excluded, of course), before they came back.

Who are they, you ask?

(If you're being polite and trying to appear to be mildly interested, that is... Come on, I'd do it for you!)

The short answer is that they're 'net pervs looking for a particular type of anime porn. Just one of the many particular types, unfortunately, that I don't have on this site. But I mentioned this particular type (hint: Pamela Anderson is involved) in some previous posts, and the folks who get their jollies looking at cartoon jubblies started streaming in, getting the whole place all feral and musky. When those posts made it into the archives, the porny hits stopped, and I thought the 'crank it to cartoons' crowd had left for good. But it seems that Google re-indexed me last night (it tickled, just a bit), and now my archives are searchable. So they're back, and as sweaty as ever.

Okay, so the short answer wasn't very damned short. Tough cookies. Still, if you're interested in a much longer answer, you can check out the entire thread, starting with the verbose version of the above explanation, which will link you to the original posts here and here.

For now, though, suffice it to say that our horny friends are back.

(So don't stand too close -- they could blow at any time, and not in a good way.)

But in the spirit of fellowship and inclusion, I welcome them back with open arms. With a hazmat suit on, and with plastic on all of the furniture, but with open arms, nonetheless. Eyeballs are eyeballs, and there's a lot here that I think would be of interest and amusement to a dirty internet perv. (Well, there must be, right? I mean, that's who's writing this crap, isn't it?)

So, in an effort to persuade even a small fraction of you looking for nekkid Pam-toons to stay for other, less messy reasons, I'd like to offer up five slogans that I hope will grab your attention and bring you back to read more... you know, after. And wash your damned hands before you come back, would ya? Okay, here we go:

(Okay, that last one may be writing checks that I can't necessarily cash -- not everyone's going to find this crap hilarious. Only a few of you will actually pee your pants while reading this; I've got to keep that in mind. Still, it beats the donkey smacks out of the other ending I came up with:

But you'll find his boobs perky and stellar.

Again, it's not entirely accurate. Oh, they're perky -- they are most certainly perky -- but I'm not sure I'd give them better than 'handsome' or 'touchable'. Each of which falls far short of 'stellar', I'm afraid. I think I have to be honest with myself here; no body part with this much hair on it will ever achieve stellarosity. Oh, sure, I could shave 'em, but it's just gonna grow back. It always does, you know. And then, they'd be all itchy. I'd have itchy, stubbly pecs -- perky and touchable pecs, mind you, let's not forget that, but itchy and stubbly, nonetheless. And then where would I be?)

All right. Where was I? Oh, the horndoggies. Right-o.

So, if you're one of the aforementioned folks searching for a stripped-down strippin' superheroine, rock on! We missed you here around the blog -- why, we even got most of the stains out of the carpet while you were away. But now that you're back, come on in! Make yourself comfortable. Take a load off.

(Um, that's actually probably a poor choice of words, come to think of it...)

Anyway, I hope you find something here that you like, even if it's not naked or heaving or voiced-over by a boobly blonde bimbo.

(Though I'm workin' on a deal to score some of Jenny McCarthy's old answering machine tapes. I'm doin' the best I can here.)

And for the rest of you, don't worry. Things won't appreciably change around here, but it does appear as though our nookie-hunting neighbors are here to stay. I gather that most of them will hit the archives and bounce back out pretty quickly. You won't even notice those folks, and just a few will end up staying. As for them -- well, we'll just have to work around them as best we can. I've got plenty more plastic to cover the couches, and the hazmat suits are in the closet. Oh, and I wouldn't sit on the floor, if I were you; you might end up stuck to the hardwood.

(Yes, that may have multiple meanings, and no, none of them are even remotely good. It's a jungle in here.)

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