Jesus Has The Big Salami

So Crissy gets to work last night (yes, sometimes Crissy has to go to work at night because some people don’t want to babysit during the day anymore and so Crissy has to wait for Mister to come home to watch Girlfriend and Crissy won’t mention any names of those most unhelpful people but it rhymes with spin-maws and it makes her life suck ass) and when she opened her email something really big happened.

Are you ready for this Queefs?

This is HUGE.

Crissy got an email from Jesus!



He has gmail now!

And it said in the subject line “we will make the serving of your meat much larger” and then the body of the email said, and this is gonna blow your mind and freak your freak Queefs so hold on to your fucking hats,

“it is better to have a decent size than to be wise.”


Deep huh?

That Jesus really knows what’s up don’t he?

Not a truer word has been spoken, really.

And Crissy is probably going to say something that is not very politically correct here and maybe even hurtful to some people but um..well…size DOES matter.

There. Crissy said it.

Jesus knows it.

Crissy knows it.

And Crissy is so, so sorry to all you guys out there with, ahem, to use Jesus’s terms, a smaller serving of meat but really? Crissy prefers bratwurst to cocktail weenies if ya know what she’s sayin’.

Also, the part about being wise is true too. Crissy used to date a fella named Heath. Her friends called him Hot Heath as a matter of fact and he looked rather a lot like this:




What just happened?

And Crissy swears she would orgasmaplode every time Hot Heath pulled into her driveway.

Her literal driveway you dirty birds, not her figurative driveway.

The figurative driveway wasn’t too far behind though, truth be told, because Crissy panties always seemed to fall off when Hot Heath was around.

But poor, poor dear Hot Heath was dumber than a bag of rocks.

And he was sort of an asshole.

And Crissy did not care. He was hot and he had a larger serving of meat, and that was all a shallow and fun loving twenty year old Crissy really needed to keep her happy.

Oh. So. Happy.

So there you have it.

Words of Supreme Wisdom and Truth brought to you by Crissy and Jesus.


Similar Posts:


  1. You could totally be the next Billy Graham or Joel Osteen, but, you know, female.  I’d send money to you.

    (and I wondered how long it would be before Mister piped up about the ex talk.  LOL.  who knew his breaking point was big wenises??)

  2. Okay–what is with your charmed life?   HUHUHUHUHU Heath?  HUHUHUHU Hello?  Dumb as a box of rocks?  WHO CARES?

    Now a hot husband, a cute kid and a taco on the way?  Oh and let’s not discount that you are pretty hot yourself, and have MET the likes of ML, Dingo and Stoogie? And countless others that I want to stalk?

    At least Mr. Perfectly has spent his fair share of time on the right side of the sausage aisle…….At least I have that.

  3. Mister- you should be happy because clearly you’ve got a large plate of meat and now everyone knows it.  AND Heath was 14 years ago.  I’ve grown.

  4. Mr. Internet vs. 1.0 had one of the largest servings of meat that I’ve ever had and it. But like Heath – he was kind of an asshole, so it finally ended. But at least we agreed that I could have the meat whenever I wanted it without sitting through a boring date.

    That’s very grown up, no?

  5. You’ve grown in 14 years.  Maybe Heath has too.  If ya’ know what I mean.  And I think you do.  Anyway, I’m all about the big salami and if Jesus is going to be turning water to wine, I’ll bring a plate of cheese.  Pah-tay!!

  6. Pimp–(or is it Mr. Crissy, or Your Hotness?)

    You at least KNOW who Stoogie is, which is nearly as good as knowing him in my book.

    You interfriends have NO IDEA how my crazy ass mind works, and the depth of my curiousity levels.  It’s a sickness, really.

  7. The update on Heath: We saw on the news last year that he almost had his leg blown off in Iraq and that he was being awarded a purple heart or whatever.  They didn’t say whether it was his third leg or not…

  8. um, Perfectly respectfully requests that the likeness of HUHUHUHU Heath be removed.  It’s distracting at work.  I’m thinking of making him my computer wallpaper, and others in the office may not find my artistic choices as fine as I do.  Or appropriate as I do.

    Hmmm….on my computer.  Me and my boys?  or HUHUHUHU Heath look alike?  Let’s vote.

  9. Proving once again that I am some kind of weirdo, I have to say that the size of the serving of meat has never meant as much to me as the server’s presentation skills.

    I have an ex-husband who mustve had equine ancestry (and honestly, looked a whole lot like the pictures you see of  Jesus) but the presentation was poor at best and a snoozefest at worst.  I dunno… pondering ceiling color for 30 seconds at a time just isn’t what I’m after.  Give me a guy who feels like he has something to prove and brings his “A” game and I’m a happy lady!

  10. well it kind of goes without saying that no matter how large the wedding tackle, if you can’t operate it properly, nobody is going to be happy.

    and certainly there is a limitation of how large is TOO large.  speaking for myself, for example, i’m all about going balls deep.  one may have a 12″ cockasaurus rex, but where the hell you gonna bury that sucker?

    i think a “reasonably large” schlong should be capable of inflicting some level of pain or discomfort via its size alone.  in other words, it should be a little bit threatening, perhaps even dangerous.  no girl, no matter what she says, wants a harmless cock–and no guy wants a girl that has no respect for his unit.

    that said, the “reasonably large” schlong must not be so large that it MUST be painful whenever (and wherever) used, and cannot be sunk to the hilt under any circumstances.

    operator skills being equal, anyone would be remiss in not choosing the “reasonably large” dick to play with over the “average” or even more diminutive specimens.

  11. I think Mister is a lawyer in real life.  Either that or incredibly bored today and had enough time on his hands to come up with this rationalization. 

    That being said, I think I may have to agree with him.  And I add that meat size is proportional to, uh, recepticle size.  For example, a boy with a tiny sausage may not feel too tiny if he’s with a girl with a tiny hey-nanny-nanny.  But a girl with one large enough to drive a truck through will require that 12″ dinasaur.  So, it’s all about tab As being the right size for the Slot Bs.  And lest I seem anti-gay, the same is true for the OTHER slot Bs 🙂

  12. At the risk of flying the freak flag AND going too far into TMI territory… Having encountered both ends of the spectrum (in fact, having been married to dudes both on the petite plate and double quarter pounder platter sides of the spectrum), I have to tell you that I honestly and truly prefer a smaller “serving size”.   Moreover, being a fan of the oral arts (performing) and having an overzealous gag reflex, I find that the smaller “serving size” is well suited to my “talents”.  I do not believe myself to be on the diminuitive side of receiving vessels below the waist, as I accommodated the larger end of the spectrum with only a modicum of discomfort… so maybe I am just really warped but I reiterate my preference for the smaller serving size.
    Or maybe the “large serving size” men I’ve encountered have all been particularly inept, believing that size is the ONLY Thing that matters and therefore paying no attention to acquiring dazzling technique.

  13. I’m calling my wife and telling her “Beef.  It’s what she is having for dinner”!

  14. “Or maybe the “large serving size” men I’ve encountered have all been particularly inept, believing that size is the ONLY Thing that matters and therefore paying no attention to acquiring dazzling technique.”

    ^^^ honestly, i think this is the most likely explanation:  a false sense of superiority stemming from barracks-style showers in high school causes them to rest on their laurels.

  15. K8… I keep wondering why I keep thinking that a nice chili dog would be good for dinner… your comment gives me a little insight…

    (Gaaahhh! Now I have the Oscar Meyer Weiner song stuck in my head!!)

  16. I once had a boyfriend who had a very small serving of meat indeed, but
    I rather enjoyed it. I felt that I could swing on all sorts of chandeliers without getting, you know, all chafed up. Once, I, um, shared this notion with him, and boy, what a mistake, I saw him crumble right before my eyes……not the first time, and not the last. This guy was, and probably still is, emotionally fragile in a self-destructive sort of way, so you know, good riddance. Better to get a little chafed up with someone who’s not a loose cannon.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *