When I am on board, catching wind near Odessa, I jump over sailboat and flash my buttcrack at children. It’s okay. They are rich because their father is making lots of money. Still, I feel bad later. I throw myself against tree.

So, I think I’ve made it pretty clear I’ve had insane internet issues that should all be resolved either today or tomorrow, but have really hindered the amount of time and research I can put into my blog. Basically, this is my excuse for posting a quick video as my blog today and hoping you all hang tight for the next couple days until I get back to full speed.

This is pretty much the ONLY Rob thing I saw all weekend (I know, how DID I survive?) but it made me giggle because it totally made fun of me. I’d like to say the video is NOT directed at me and I don’t watch every single vid I come across that has Rob’s name on it, but then I’d be lying. And no one likes a liar.

I think a true fan can appreciate this and make fun of themselves! We all know we are borderline crazy, it’s just whether you can keep that crazy locked away and only share it with your e-besties!

By the way, I do have a sign up sheet for the angry mob that will DESTROY the girl who questions Rob’s good looks. That’s right, we are totes coming after you!!

Now I have a favor for all my beautiful, lovely readers! PLEASE catch me up on anything from over the weekend! I need pics and video STAT! If there isn’t anything to post, then just make stuff up. Just do something so I can get my fill of Robbie (that’s what she said!) and gan begin to feel normal again.

Lollakas ja naljakas video Robert Pattinsoni buttcrackist erutuvatest fännidest..

Well, I guess I mean yesterday now that it’s after midnight.  Tuesday may not be a buttcrack day.  I’m not sure yet.

First off, I’m about to get in the shower and had the sudden idea that I needed to fix something in the bathroom.  So I walk through the house in my birthday suit to get a screwdriver and some pliers.  Robin looks at me and asks what the hell I’m doing.

“I’m the naked plumber,” I said.  “You don’t have to worry about seeing my buttcrack because I’m not wearing pants.”

I know.  That made no sense and it was probably a traumatizing image.  But keep in mind that I hadn’t drank any coffee yet.

Next, we’re off to the doctors office so I can get my biweekly injection (you know that glowy stuff in Re-Animator?  Kind of like that).  I look across the waiting room and pointed Robin to a girl with her buttcrack peeking out from her pants – a LOT of buttcrack.  I joked that she’s destined to become a plumber.

Robin said, “I think that’s the style nowadays.  Jeans are cut low to show off the crack.”

“Oh.”  That made me feel old.

Then the nurse calls my name and we’re on our way to the lab room so I can get poked.  On the way, a cute young woman was squatting as she helped her kid on and off the scale.  She was wearing those low-cut pants, too, except hers must have been the wrong size or something.  As she squatted, the back hung way out so it was easy to see everything.  EVERYTHING.  No panties.  EVERYTHING!  The nurse and Robin were both walking behind me, so I couldn’t stop, but I did lose my train of thought and nearly walked past the lab room.  Afterward, Robin mentioned it, saying she had a cute butt.

So then we’re in the parking lot, on our way out.  “Uh oh, Robin, there’s another buttcrack!”  This time, it was a guy leaning into his car trunk.  As we passed, though, he pulled his pants up.  This was a huge relief to me because I didn’t want his butt clouding my image of the previous butt.  These things are important.

So as you go about your errands, see how many buttcracks you can find.  Make a game of it.  Fun for the entire family!

As a Canadian goose currently migrating over New England (I update with a MacBook at 20,000 feet), I’m subject to all sorts of discrimination. I know some of you are thinking: hold on a second, Nero, wasn’t your last post basically a prolonged attack on the culture of white geese, whom you seemed to despise categorically? Well, sure, but there are some forms of prejudice all geese need to present a united front against.

I’m talking, of course, about the human practice of jabbing/thrusting fingers into the area of a clothed buttcrack and squeezing whatever you get hold of. Or, as all the frat boys at the countless colleges we’ve recently passed through call it, “goosing.”

Could’ve just as easily been called “horsing.”

Sure, sometimes I have my face in another goose’s ass. But that’s how the flying V fucking works. I follow the goose ass in front of me, he follows the goose ass in front of him, all the way up to the goose that’s trying to understand how he ended up without a goose ass to follow. It doesn’t mean we’re trying to bite each other’s grundles.

Am I mad? Am I hissing in contempt over this bit of juvenalia? You’d like me to confirm that stereotype of a goose, wouldn’t you. But I’m too classy for that. You have fun with your restraining orders and bruised anuses. I’ll be up here in cumulus clouds, with my dignity.

The Chicago Auto Show is always full of giddy men and bratty teens but apparently it also gets a fair share of indecently-exposed butt cracks. “This lady was playing the Guitar Hero/ Rock Band trial game,” writes Zhenia who swears the pic she took was of a tourist and not a true Chicagoan. “My boyfriend must have barfed like three times.”

Topless Judy dusted the thousands of items NW had saved up from forty-seven years of being in the same house. She had removed her clothes to keep from getting dirty wearing only an apron from the waist down. The drawstrings fell down behind her back in between her cute little butt crack. NW’s desire to jump her grew tremendously underneath the monk outfit he wore. He walked into the kitchen to cook supper and stray away from temptation. Marcia was playing model of the moment with Shirl who laughed at Marcia wearing lord knows what since it was only Shirl who could see her friend Marcia. NW looked at Shirl then at Marcia knowing something had to be done. Marcia told NW that she was a curvaceous diva as he hoped the package would arrive soon.

Neurotic Writer was in the kitchen cutting up a few wieners to make Eggs & Franks when the front door bell rang. He had prayed for a miracle and now hoped it had come true as he made his way through the maze of personal belongings to the front of the house. Shirl stopped him briefly and asked if he would take her out on a hot date. NW rolled his eyes knowing full well that she was all talk and no play. Shirl talked about going to the park, sitting on a bench and making out. NW brushed her aside and told Marcia to put some clothes on.

NW walked up to the front door took the door handle and pulled at it a couple times before it finally came ajar. Immediately, hundreds of flashes from the paparazzi taking pictures went wild. NW quickly shut the door, turned back to look into the living room full of stuff and asked Judy why she was standing in front of the doorway baring her bosom. Judy smiled, pushed out her chest even more, which confused NW. Judy’s pose made him horny and angrier at the same time. NW reminded Judy she was not a hotel heiress to be exposing herself to the media, He told her to step back away from the door. NW dared not ask her to put something on he wasn’t that stupid.

Nudging a crack, NW opened the door so ever slowly and looked out onto his front porch. It was there. The package he had expected was sitting in the middle of the porch waiting for him. Now, all he had to do is wait for the paparazzi to leave or for a smaller crowd. The invisible women inside were jammed packed in his home asked NW what it was, he smiled and went back to the kitchen to finish making supper. He told them it was a surprise, a surprise like no other.

Earlier in the day, Neurotic Writer sneaked out the back door to go shopping. The neighbors observed him dressed quite differently than the monk suit he usually wore. He found a large empty refrigerator box and smiled profusely at the possibilities of his new treasure. It’s perfect, he thought as he carefully dragged it to the front porch of his home. NW was careful not attract too much attention to himself as he expeditiously maneuvered the package home.

Neurotic Writer and the three invisible women were in dining room table eating supper. NW thought it to be pretty quiet as they ate their dinner without much chatter. He deduced that Marcia had more of a slight mental problem than Judy did; even though Judy liked to walk around topless in his home. He found it hard to concentrate on eating dinner when Judy’s breasts were on his right, while Shirl and Marcia argued about having a threesome with NW on his left. It was going no where; Marcia was not going to give in having sex with a loser.

After dinner, Judy asked NW if he was ever going to bring in the special package from the front porch. NW smiled at Judy and proceeded to walk into the living room. The invisible women followed him as if they were ducklings following a duck. NW opened the front door and quickly brought the package indoors. He placed it on a spot he had cleared earlier in the day. NW stacked articles, ceramic pots, and sculptures piling them on top of other stacks. There was so much stuff in his house there was barely enough room for the invisible women. Judy asked what was inside the package. NW smiled, pulled the flap of cardboard and opened the empty box.

The three invisible women gasped as they saw the vast emptiness of the carton box. It was roomy. NW asked Marcia to step into the box. She looked at Shirl and hesitated stepping into the carton box. NW smiled and said not to worry that everything is wonderful. NW closed the door, took a deep breath and closed his eyes and said to himself that he is a fucking genius. He smiled hitting the side of the box as if he was knocking on someone’s door, then he walked away. Shirl reached over to open the door. It was empty. Shirl instantly broke down falling to the floor crying and realizing her friend, Marcia was gone.

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