A friend of mine posted this. I thought it was pretty awesome, so I’m going to re-blog it on mine. Why would I do something like this? Because. That’s why.
So I killed a rooster and turned him into beer.
Shockingly, though, I’m not interested in discussing my cock or its majesty at any…length…in this post. A discussion about the production of cock ale will probably be put up much later, so you will have to wait very patiently to sample my cock.
I promise, I’m an adult and a professional government employee. Really.
No, this post is a further examination of a topic I’ve already addressed. In a sense, I’ve already touched upon my cock – but it warrants revisiting.
You see, from time to time I still ask myself, “Self, why are we doing this? Why did this majestic cock need to die?”
I had a lengthy discussion with my good friend Phil (the expert cock handler pictured above) during the weekend where Death Cluck was slated to die; his extensive undergraduate education netted him degrees in…
View original post 1,332 more words