August 8, 2004
Bartering
I have a nice deal worked out with the kid next door. He uses my riding lawnmower to mow his own lawn, and does mine in the process. He wins, I win. I can loll in my Sunday morning filth while he gets to mow in comfort, instead of pushing a beast around.
I love the barter system, wherein one gets to screw the gummint out of tax dollars, and exercise market efficiencies at the same time. God, excuse me. I'm almost ready to punt.
Anyway, I was thinking of other ways to barter, however, as a man in legal contract to my Bride, I choose not to implicate myself in these ideas, but to implicate another instead.
So, how would my conveniently umarried proxy Acidman barter?
He would mow the lawn of his neighbor for sex. He would likely trim her hedges if she let him go Back Door.
He would trade 40 green bananas for an oil change on his truck.
He would clean a litter box for a tit shot.
He would hand wash Andy Dick's thong for a thousand dollars worth of Maurice Bessinger's Piggy Park Barbecue Sauce.
He would carve an ice sculpture of Pamela Anderson's Assets for a strong mole cricket treatment.
He would trade Andy Dick's severed head for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
I could go on and on, but let's face it: this isn't Acidman's world, it's mine. I just need some distance between me and the Divorce Attorney. I don't want my seperation papers to headline: In re Mr. Crawford's Ass sex infatuation, and the Psychological Problems the Fambly has Suffered As a Result!
Also because I feel bad about taking my Buttsex post down, but that was a survival move, Intrepids. That was not an advised move on my part.