Thursday, March 08, 2007

Because I'm all about the presidents...


My blog is worth $27,662.46.
How much is your blog worth?


Sunday, March 04, 2007

Kicking off the anniversary week with a quiz...

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Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Where's Waldo Dirk?

I've moved!

My new address is

http://dirkmancuso.wordpress.com/

Same shit, different location.

Tell your friends and change your bookmarks!

Monday, January 22, 2007

Breakroom potpourri: snow, snacks, segmented savior scenes, and Superman's splooge moose

After the mammoth blizzard of two thousand aught seven yesterday (total accumulation: 3 inches), the workplace was abuzz with the incredibly brave and moving stories of how co-workers battled to survive the fury irritation of Mother Nature.

Some like Lorna, spent the wintery day baking dozens of delicious cookies and cupcakes which she brought to work to share with everyone.

Others, like Hannah, took the elements head-on so that they might attend services, receive holy communion, and rejoice in the love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, then returned home to enjoy the fellowship of their families while the whole clan worked over time assembling a jigsaw puzzle depicting memorable moments in the life of the son of God.

However, unlike most of those people, Hannah brought the puzzle box to work to show us the fruits of her Sabbath labors (and I think I speak for the masses when I say who among us has not found him/herself flabbergasted, flummoxed, and at a general loss for words when shown an empty puzzle box and informed that the speaker has indeed assembled the contents that once laid therein...only at home "because it's so hard to transport and all").

"I'm going to stop at the store after work and get some puzzle glue and a frame," she announced in that monotone of hers, which always suggests she has had all the life beaten out of her as a by-product of getting good with God.

It was interesting to note that the puzzle in question was not a traditional square, but instead a shaped puzzle, so the question of how she intended to frame it loomed large in the back of my mind. And yet I remained silent, lest I be subjected to one of her seemingly endless monologues that inevitably winds up asking the question, "...so have you accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and savior?"

And then there were those like Melina, who saw the wintery maelstrom as an excuse to curl up and watch a movie.

"Lindzy got SUPERMAN RETURNS for Christmas, so we watched that," she brayed between sips of microwaved cocoa. "Have you seen that shit?"

"Yes," I replied.

"What's up with him having a kid? I watch SMALLVILLE every week and Superman cannot have sex if he has his powers -- he can only get hard if he is normal!"

"Say again?"

"On SMALLVILLE -- Clark couldn't fuck Lana until he lost his powers. When he got them back he couldn't get hard again."

Quietly horrified, Hannah turned her puzzle box over, resting her folded hands atop it -- I think in hopes of shielding Jesus's ears from "language."

"Melina, Clark's ability to maintain an erection has nothing to do with his super-powers. He refrained from making love to Lana because he was worried that he might become so excited during sex he might not be in full control of himself and accidentally hurt her."

"Dirk, I watch that show every week. They came right out and said he could not get hard when he had powers. Plus, I used to watch LOIS AND CLARK

(**Author's note: which she pronounced LEWIS AND CLARK)

and they could not have a baby on that show...because Superman can't get hard. So that was total bullshit that all of a sudden they had one. Plus they acted like they never got married in the movie."

I suppose I could've explained that Clark's alien genetics was most likely the reasoning behind the fertility problems on the television series, and that the movie, like its small screen siblings, was simply another interpretation of the Superman mythos, but I neither felt like making the effort nor expected her to understand.

Thankfully, OCD Joe walked by at that moment, on his way to the sink where he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and began washing his hands and forearms repeatedly.

"You need to talk to that freak, Dirk," Melina stage whispered, stealing furtive glances back at him. "He was so behind in his work on Friday, I had to pitch in and help him get caught up. And he's done jack shit so far this morning except take a bath in Germ-X...but that's fine, because I am not helping him out again. It's time that boy either swims or gets out of the sink."

Some days it is just a divine pleasure to lead this group.

_______________

For more wacky workplace shit, check out my new digs over at http://dirkmancuso.wordpress.com/


Monday, January 15, 2007

I Smell Sex and Candy Kibble

And on the seventh day, Dirk chatted. And it was gooooooooooooood...

Canine Cruiser: Whassup?
Dirk Mancuso: hey. how are you?
CC: Horny
DM: gotcha
CC: Age? 49 here
DM: 40
CC: I'm playing bitch to my great dane tonight.
DM: you have sex with your dog?
CC: Duh. He is my lover
DM: i see
CC: I let my male dog mount me as if I was a bitch so that he can get some release.
DM: besides being sort of fucked up on a lot of levels, doesn't that hurt?
CC: No. Only once he's in, he expands inside my rectum. It's called dog knotting.
DM: ouch
CC: The human rectum can accomodate a lot.
DM: methinks that breaks a commandment or something -- state and local laws at a minimum...
CC: Oh God, it feels so great. Plus, he leaves a quarter cup of cum behind after he shrinks down and pulls out.
DM: is he like most men and is done in 30 seconds?
CC: It takes him about 20 or 30 minutes for his knot to go down.
DM: and how'd you start this?
CC: Trained him from a puppy.
DM: no, i mean how'd you get started with dogs?
CC: My uncle and I were drunk and he dared me to let his greyhound fuck me
DM: so your family is cool with it. awesome possum. do you have a boyfriend?
CC: Not right now.
DM: wondered what he thought about the dog thing. what do the guys you've dated think about it?
CC: It's not something you talk about on the first date.
DM: i guess not. so how does one of your doggie dates go? you just whistle and he knows he's about to get some tail?
CC: When he sees me on the floor crawling around butt ass naked, he knows what to do.
DM: and you would have me believe that shit doesn't hurt when he is trying to get in you?
CC: I'm not stupid. I make sure I'm well lubed so he slides right in.
DM: so just like with a guy?
CC: Yes. Exactly the same.
DM: you should write a musical..."guys and dogs"
CC: ??? I should get going. He is giving me the look like he wants it.
DM: guess you better go assume the position then, ya sick puppy fucker
CC: I don't fuck him, he fucks me.
DM: oooooooooh! thanks for the clarification -- that makes all the difference in the world

The internet: making your world a little scarier every day.
_________________________________________
For more scandalous chat, look for me at my new location http://dirkmancuso.wordpress.com/

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

It's time for "The Adventures of Sissy and 'mo" -- Today's Episode: Caution - Sudden Curves Ahead

Fresh from the train, 'mo exits the train station and flags a cab.

"XXXX West Blah Blah." Since Thad's fella has a full New Year's weekend planned, 'mo will be staying with his friend, Sissy.

As the cabbie peels out, 'mo hears the click of the door locks. He looks down and much to his horror realizes that there isn't a visible knob with which to unlock the door. He cannot believe he was this stupid -- he ALWAYS checks this before he gets in a cab.

Panic surges deep within him as he recalls that this is exactly how the killer captured his victims in THE BONE COLLECTOR.

Within seconds, his mind is awash in a multitude of scenarios in which he is driven to an unspecified location and tortured for hours before his nude, lifeless fish belly white corpse is dumped in an abandoned lot or dumpster. He hopes the press will be kind and not refer to him as "the aging, out of shape faggot."

As the cab continues to zoom through traffic, 'mo does the only thing he can think of: he takes photos of his cab number and sends them to his friend back home with a text message:

IF I AM DEAD WHEN YOU GET THIS, HERE WOULD BE A GOOD PLACE TO START INVESTIGATING.

"This is the address, no? Sir?"

'mo suddenly realizes the driver is speaking to him and looks up.

Huh. What do you know? 'mo is sitting in front of Sissy's condominum.

* * * * *

'mo is just waking up from his nap on the sofa when Sissy comes home from work.

"Hey, 'mo. I'll be out in a few. I've got something I want to show you, gurl."

'mo is flipping through the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest when Sissy sashays into the living room buck naked per usual. 'mo pays no attention since Sissy is a practicing nudist and he has seen that impressive ebony junk a zillion times before.

"Ahem."

'mo looks up from his magazine and finds himself face to face with Sissy's chocolate colored cock. Only there is something different about it this time. It's...shiny. And hard. But not in the "I sure am glad to see you" way.

No, today Sissy's cock is...imprisoned in a clear plastic vented tube.

"Is that what I think it is?" asks 'mo.

"Yep," replies Sissy, hands on hips, crotch jutted out into 'mo's face. "The Curve. $168 dollars of plastic chastity. Nigel gave it to me." Nigel is Sissy's adorable OB/GYN boyfriend who currently became elgible for membership in AARP.

'mo reaches out gingerly, then pulls his hand back. He looks up, eyebrows raised. "May I?"

"Please do."

'mo leans in close, peering at the plastic prison surrounding his pal's pee-pee and studies The Curve's unique design. Cautiously, he pokes it with his index finger.

"This is very nice, Sissy," he says in awe of his friend's new acquistion. "Much nicer than the stainless steel cock sock Thad and I saw at IML..."

"And much more comfortable, I'd wager," Sissy giggles. "Oh, sorry about all the baby oil -- it keeps me from chafing."

'mo is undeterred by the greasiness -- he is too busy marvelling at the design and apparent comfort of the apparatus. While he is already knee deep in a celebration of celibacy, this is certainly an interesting accoutrement to insure one does not fall off the wagon.

"I think we need to take you shopping," Sissy says. "Little Dirk would love it!"

"Alas, I shall be attending the thea-tuh this evening," sighs 'mo. "Perhaps another time."

"No worries, gurl. You go and have you some fun! But don't stay out too late -- Thad says you're having brunch with his friend Darrin tomorrow..."
____________

Tomorrow: The last blind date. EVER.
...And the Adventures of Sissy and Mo continue at http://dirkmancuso.wordpress.com/

Monday, November 27, 2006

Nancy Boy and the Really Bad Trip to the Dentist

A few years back, my dentist gave me some bad news: I had the beginning of a cavity and a filling would be necessary to prevent further decay and possible dental problems down the road. Even though every part of me wanted to ignore his diagnosis, I couldn't.

When the day finally arrived to go under the drill, a stern looking blonde woman of East German descent entered the waiting area and barked, "Dirk Man-COO-so? Come viss me!"

Instantly, a litany of warning bells and sirens went off in my head. Where was Vikki, the regular dental hygienist and why had she been replaced with this ?

"Haff a seat, Dirk. I zee you are here to haff a cavity filled."

"Uh-huh." I was already sweating like a whore in church. "Um, where's Vikki? She's usually here when I have a filling..."

"Vikki has accepted employment elsevhere. I am zee new hygienist. My name is Anna." She pronounced it "On-uh."

Fuck. Me. Hard. Sweet Vikki had been replaced by one of the Goebbels girls.

"Well, since you're new, I should probably tell you a couple of things," I began. "First off, I am scared of needles. Don't like them, don't want to see them, don't want to hear about them."

"Vhat?!? You are grown man! You must stop acting like a child!"

"Whatever. Second, the dentist doesn't drill until my jaw is numb. NUMB. We're talking full on punch in the face and I won't feel a thing NUMB. If the doctor has to see 5 other patients until it gets to that point, so be it."

"Zat is ridicu-luss," Anna informed me. "Ziss is a bizzness und ve cannot accomodate a lee-tull BAY-bee who is afraid of a stick from a needle."

I sat there, speechless. Who the fuck did she think she was? And where did she get her chair-side manner -- Dachau or Auschwitz?

"I'm going to get zee Novocaine," she announced and left the room.

Knowing what was next, I sqeezed my eyes tightly closed and waited for the inevitable.

"Ziss vill not hurt a bit," Anna said as she entered the room.

I opened wide and waited for the stomach churning sting of the needle piercing my gums. But it never came.

"Alright. You can open your eyes now."

Unable to believe there had been no pain, I blinked my eyes open only to see Anna standing right before me holding a needle. A FULL needle. At that moment, all I could hear in my head was "Is it safe? Is it safe?"

"I told you: I'm never supposed to see the needle!" I screamed.

"I know vhat you said, Dirk, but you need to get over ziss fear you haff and stop being a lee-tull BAY-bee."

Breaking out in a cold sweat, my hands clenching the arms of the chair, I was livid. "I came here to get a damn cavity filled, not for aversion therapy!"

"You a lee-tull bay-beeeee!" Anna shrieked. "Look at you...you a grown man and you acting like a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee!"

Frankly, I wouldn't have give a shit if she had called me a cross-dressing puppy fucker at that moment; it's true -- when needles are involved, I AM a lee-tull bay-beee. "I don't care," was my petulant reply.

"I'm going to tell you a story about a lee-tull boy who vass also a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee but learned to be a man."

"Knock yourself out sister."

"Vunce, there vass this lee-tull boy and all zee other children called him a lee-tull bay-bee because he was scared of everything. Vhenever they vould ask him to play, he vould say 'no -- I'm scared' and they vould say 'you a lee-tull B-A-A-A--Y-bee, you a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee.' Vun day, the lee-tull boy vass at zee playground and a lee-tull girl asked him to go on zee slide with her. Zee lee-tull boy said no, he vass afraid."

As she told the story, Anna hovered over the chair, staring me directly in the eye, her voice high and wild -- obviously NOT an inside voice.

"Zee lee-tull girl told zee lee-tull boy 'you can do it...I beleef in you. You can do it. You're not a lee-tull bay-bee, you're a man.'

Zee lee-tull boy went over to zee slide and climbed a few steps.

'I can't,' zee lee-tull boy cried, 'I'm scared!'

Zee other children laughed and said 'you a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee, you a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee!'

'You can do it,' zee lee-tull girl said, "I beleef in you!'"

I sat there, blinking in disbelief at the teutonic terror before me, unable to believe this was actually happening.

"Zee lee-tull boy climbed a few more stairs and again he said 'I can't, 'I'm scared!'

Zee other children laughed and said 'you a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee, you a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee!'

'You can do it,' zee lee-tull girl said. 'I beleef in you. You can do it. You're not a lee-tull bay-bee, you're a man.'

Zee lee-tull boy climbed all zee way to zee top of zee slide and looked down. 'I can't slide down!" he cried, 'It's too high!'

Zee other children laughed and said 'you a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee, you a lee-tull B-A-A-A-Y-bee!'

'You can do it,' zee lee-tull girl said. 'I beleef in you. You can do it. You're not a lee-tull bay-bee, you're a man.'

Zee lee-tull boy took a deep breath and went down zee slide. 'I did it! I did it!' he cried.

'I knew you could do it,' zee lee-tull girl said. 'You not a lee-tull bay-bee...you a grown man now!'

Don't you vant to be like zhat lee-tull boy and be a grown man?"

"Not if there is a needle involved, I don't." I replied.

"I can't beleef you, Dirk. You are not a man, you are a soft little BAY-bee."

"Yep, that's me."

Just then the dentist came in. "How're we doing, Dirk?"

"Well, I'm pretty keyed up over the shot and Heinrich Himmler over here is not helping. Is there someone else you could get to assist?"

The dentist looked from me to Anna and back. "S-u-u-u-u-u-re. I'll get Tracy in here..."

Anna glared a both of us: me for my status as not only a "lee-tull bay-bee" but also as a snitch, the dentist for caving in and allowing some faggot candy-ass to call the shots.

And so Tracy was ushered in as Anna was shown the door, and thirty minutes later, the ordeal was over. As I made my way through the waiting room, I saw my best friend and his wife sitting there. He took one look at me and burst into gales of laughter.

"Oh my God! That was you, wasn't it?" he roared.

"Huh?"

"The 'lee-tull bay-bee'...that was you, right? We could hear that whole thing out here."

"Yeah," I replied, "that was me, laughing boy. You just remember how funny it is when Hitler's handmaiden has her mitts on your pearly whites." And with that, I flounced out in a huff like any self respecting faggy-gay-homo would.
_______________
Don't be a lee-tull bay-bee! Get more nancy boy at http://dirkmancuso.wordpress.com/

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