Saturday, June 27, 2009

R.I.P. Michael Edwina Rhianna Frito-Lay Faygo Pop Jackson

I bet you didn't know that was his full, god-given name, did you? Well, it was folks. And now MERF-LFPJ is gone forever. Like everyone else on the planet, I grew up with him/her. As a small child, I gleefully grabbed my junk and developed an unhealthy love for all things monkey. I caught my jerry curl on fire, and I dreamed about dry-humping Macaulay Culkin. I truly loved all of his songs and I still do today.

I've been watching all of the coverage on television, and listening to all the speculation about his cause of death. What?! Really?! I could answer that for you right now!! As a matter of fact, that is not even what we should be speculating about because it is so obvious. Clearly he overdosed on his birth control medication, which is becoming a leading cause of death in legendary pop stars. And while sad, that is not what we should be focusing on at a time like this.

The real question that we should be asking ourselves people, is what was really going on down there. . . you know, in his britches. . . like, what did his junk look like?. . . if he even had any at all. So, I'm sure that you won't be surprised to know that I have several theories of my own about what MERF-LFPJ had going on down south.

What if. . . his junk was the only part of him that they were unable to bleach, resulting in his wiener looking like a slightly curved chocolate covered banana, nestled gently atop two Cadbury eggs?

What if. . . his wiener had a big tattoo of Donald Duck on the shaft and his ballsack was tattooed to look like a big pile of gum balls?

What if. . . he had his wiener extended, thinned out, and dyed bright red to look like a glorious red licorice super rope, and had the hair removed from his balls so that they looked like two delicious hard boiled eggs?

What if. . . he had his wiener and balls molded into a life-sized model of Arnold from Diff'rent Strokes?

What if. . . he had his dude junk transformed into lady parts reminiscent of a gordita supreme with extra sour cream from Taco Bell?

What if. . . the junk he was born with was grossly disfigured, looking like a battered bowling pin from Poelking lanes, sitting precariously above two ten pound gold sparkly bowling balls?

What if. . . he had his wiener removed completely, leaving behind his enourmous ballsack, which can only be described as a large white pillow case filled with two juicy cantaloupes?

And finally, what if. . . he has no junk at all and instead looks like a naked Ken doll. . . except skinnier. . . and pale. . . and sort of like a girl. . . and really fucking weird! Like so weird that it is like nothing you've ever seen before, EVER!! So crazy and strange is his junk, that you can't even wrap your feeble human brains around it.

So, I will pray until the moment that I croak that someone is smart enough to snap a picture of that bizzaro junk so that I may lay my bewildered eyes upon that sweet gift from God. Until then, I can only dream of gazing upon the magic that MERF-LFPJ flashed to fifteen percent of all the small boys in California.


  1. You really need a more productive hobby or something. there is way to much going on up in that little mind(gutter trap)of yours

  2. Dearest Anonymous,
    Perhaps YOUR hobbies should not include reading my incredibly insightful, poignant, and sensitive blog, huh? There's a gem of a thought from my gutter trap. In conclusion. . . suck it.
    Yours Truly,