Stoogepie and Crissy Make Beautiful Comics Together

So Stoogie’s blog (when you’re done reading this go over and tell him he’s The Man and then give him a nice rimjob because that’s what he really likes take it from Crissy) and Crissy’s blog have been fucking each other for like a year now and so they thought it was high time they made a blog baby and so here it is. They even got a product placement deal!

See if you can spot it.

It’s super subtle...

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A flashlight, a spoon, and a can of Flarp.

As some of you Facebook Queefs already know, Crissy had a scary moment yesterday with Girlfriend.

No, she didn’t run into the street.

No, Crissy didn’t find her unconscious in the bathroom laying in a pile of Mister’s Special Treats.

And no, the police didn’t call looking for her. Again.

It was way worse you guys.

There Crissy was minding her own business and Girlfriend was somewhere in the house doing Jesus knows what when she came toodling past Crissy carrying a flashlight, a can of this stuff,

and a small plastic play kitchen spoon.

And Crissy asked her what she was doing and she’s all  “Don’t worry! It’s under control mama!”

huh.

“What is exactly is under control?”

….silence.

So Crissy decided she’d rather not know and what’s the worst thing that could happen? Flarp probably doesn’t taste good so she was probably not going to eat it or harm herself with it, so Crissy decided to just let it slide and check it out later.

Crissy found the flashlight abandoned on the stairs, but no sign of the Flarp and the spoon.

And the funny thing is that she did something similar on Wednesday night with a bowl of sauerkraut. She ate one bowl in front of Crissy and then said that Benny likes sauerkraut and Crissy was only half listening but all of a sudden Girlfriend was gone and came back minutes later with an empty bowl.

She couldn’t have eaten it all that fast, so where did it go?

And Crissy sees a teachable moment here for the Queefs.

Valuable Life Lesson for the Queefs: Do not give little kids sauerkraut. Crissy learned this the hard way yesterday when she had to help Girlfriend out with a little bit of a bummy issue involving the kraut. She won’t go into any details because you cannot handle it but let’s just say that sauerkraut is hard to digest when you’re small.

Anyway, as far as Crissy can tell, she must have been using the flashlight to find the cat in his dark hiding spots and then try to feed him some Flarp.

And this is all just a theory because Crissy has no proof  but as far as she can figure, given the evidence, it seems that poor old Big Pussy was the target of this particular escapade.

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And Crissy still hasn’t found the sauerkraut, the Flarp, or the spoon.

Big Pussy appears to be unharmed thus far.

This post is pretty much a piece of crap.

It’s been on the news a lot around here and Crissy isn’t sure why it’s particularly newsworthy but whatever. 99% of what’s on the news is total mind-numbing crap that keeps people blind to the REAL things going on in the world so why is Crissy surprised?

Don’t know.

Anyway, apparently, some people were fighting over some dog shit in a yard and it got a little ugly and a baseball bat was waved around and some dude got arrested.  You can read about it here if you want the details.

Crissy’s only mentioning it because she understands why people were fighting over dog shit because she has a problem with dog shit too.

Who doesn’t?

And it makes Crissy violent and she wants to just go over to the neighbor’s house, drag them out, bring them over to her yard and smoosh their fucking faces in the shit. And sadly, this is not the same neighbor who is pulling the Zoning Board Shenanigans.

(btw, Numbnuts waved to Mister yesterday and Mister grunted at him and did not wave back. HA!)

Crissy lives in an idiot colony.

Valuable Life Lesson for the Queefs: When you go to buy a house, interview the neighbors. If they’re assholes, don’t buy the house.

Crissy didn’t know that, but now you do.

You’re welcome.

Some of you Queefs may remember something about how Crissy feels about the dog shit.

Does the name Tequila ring a bell?

Well she’s at it again and what Crissy did about the problem last year has become routine now but with a little less dancing and there’s nothing new to report except that these people may be foreclosed on at the end of the month and that makes Crissy both sad and happy at the same time.

She’s sad because it means that Mister and Kendra won’t have a convenient source from which to purchase  Special Treats anymore and that means if Mister can’t find any he’ll be a giant cranky pants and drive Crissy up a wall–even more than he usually does and that is saying something.  You don’t want to see Mister without his Special Treats. Crissy doesn’t know about Kendra without her Special Treats but she’s probably not very happy either.  Also, these particular neighbors are in no position to ever judge anything Crissy does and that’s a nice feeling.

Being superior to people always feels nice, doesn’t it?

But it makes Crissy happy because maybe if they just go away she won’t have to deal with the fucking dog shit and the teenage boy revving his dirtbike in the driveway all fucking day all spring, summer and fall. These people come with a myriad of other bullshit that Crissy won’t go into right now, but just know that  they’re always coming over to Crissy’s to apologize for something but the thing is that they don’t stop doing it!

What is worse Queefs? 

Knowing you’re a dick, apologizing for it but never stopping OR being a dick and not knowing it?

Today, we’re in the melon business.

Last night Crissy was looking through a maternity magazine her mother-in-law no doubt swiped for her from a doctor’s office or a drug store somewhere because she’s funny like that. She drives around in an $80,000 Mercedes, but shoves fistfuls of ketchup and sugar packets into her Prada purse and if there’s a sign that says “Free! Take one!” she takes them all. And sometimes even when it doesn’t say “Free! Take one!” she still takes it. Ask Mister to tell you about the toothbrush incident. It’s cute. We like Marcy.

Anyway, this post is not about Marcy.

It’s about horrifying maternity stuff in the purloined magazine that made Crissy and Mister laugh right out loud.

When you watch this first video you’re going to expect Tina Fey to jump out any second but she never does and it might make you cry a little bit because they’re dead serious about this product and that is what is truly horrifying:

It’s the Kush Support and it’s for people with a C cup or larger who are apparently suffering from lack of sleep because their boobs are flopping all over the place and Crissy would make a joke about it but the product itself is joke enough she thinks and also she’ll leave space for either Mister or Stoogie or both to make some sort of joke about putting his dick there instead.

Anyway, it’s right up there with the

… if you ask Crissy.

And let Crissy ask you Queefs something.

Have you ever been so frustrated you could just cry from fumbling with your breast pump whilst simultaneously trying to schedule appointments over the phone?

Well you never need fumble again!!!

It’s the Easy Expression Bustier !!!

And don’t worry. The pump is totally silent so the person on the other end of the phone will never hear your pump just a WooooPssshhhWooooPsssshhhing away in the background while you milk yourself.

Jesus.

But while those products may be silly and horrifying, Crissy is dead serious about these little jobbies:

They’re for the nursing mommy who likes to par-tay.

And Crissy thinks it’s just wonderful because you know the second Taco pops out the drinkies will be flowing once again and since the alcohol content in boobie juice matches blood alcohol it’s probably wise for Crissy to abstain from the drink but fuck that. It’s going to be summertime and the livin’s EZ! And it’s not like Crissy has a problem with giving alcohol to children per se because it’s very European and Crissy is so inter-continental like that, but here in Americaland it apparently does something to their little brains and gives them The Retardation or some such thing and until Obama grants women the right to be an alcoholic and a dairy cow,  she won’t give Taco the Martoonis.  For now though, Crissy doesn’t have to pump and dump or pump and watch Mister drink it down because he didn’t want to waste it like she did so many times with Girlfriend.

There is a God Queefs and she decided Crissy needed a melon juice sobriety test kit and that’s a good thing.

As nasty as she wants to be

There’s something about Crissy’s house that she’s never mentioned before but she’s going to now because the irony of it is just so…

so…

ironic.

It’s going to make all the Queefs say “WHAT???” and then “Oh HELL NO!!!”

While the Historical Society Assclowns are busting the Crissy’s balls about what they’re allowed to do (well, not anymore since the Crissys plan to go ahead and do whateverthefucktheyplease because that’s how they’re going to roll from now on) with the house, the Numbnuts across the street is pulling his own bunch of bullshit.

You see Queefs, Numbnuts owns a big old ugly characterless vinyl sided tenement house that he inherited from his grandpa. It’s got like, Crissy doesn’t know, 5 apartments in it or something? And it has a bunch of land behind it. The Crissys almost didn’t buy their house because they weren’t sure they wanted to look at this ugly motherfucking tenement all the time, but they decided to just not look at it and that was fine.

AND THEN!!!

A couple of months after the Crissys moved in, they get a notice that Numbnuts wants to build a duplex on his land behind the ugly house and pave over whatever grassyness he has on the front and side to make a parking lot for his existing tenants.

WHAT?

THE?

FUCKING?

FUCK?

And the whole neighborhood signed a petition to stop him because this is not that kind of a neighborhood. It’s full of beautiful antique houses and it’s got a nice mix of styles from Ranch to Colonial to Cape, even a cute little Tudor cottage here and there, and then the Crissy’s rare and far more beautific Craftsman style one, and Numbnuts’s house is already an eyesore and a misfit.

So everyone is pissed off at him and everyone shows up for a neighborhood meeting and then members of the Zoning Board came to see what they were deciding on and the whole neighborhood went to the zoning meeting and it was determined that his planned monstrosity would destroy “the essential character of the neighborhood” and that his existing house is already doing that but we’ll just let that slide.

So the zoning board, in their wisdom, said “nofuckingway, Numbnuts” and everyone was happy.

Except Numbnuts, obviously.

So he bought another house on the same street and everyone was relieved that he had given up. In fact the house he bought was foreclosed and really looked like crap so things were actually looking like they would improve.

UNTIL!!!!

The Crissys and all the neighbors got a certified letter informing us that Numbnuts and his Dickweed lawyer are suing the Zoning Board for their decision.

Now everyone hates him with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns.

That’s like, a lot and a lot in case any of you Queefs don’t know anything about astrology or astronomy or whatever.

And Crissy wants very much to do something to him and fix his wagon but she needs help from the Queefs to come up with a Very Good Plan and it has to be something Very Special because Numbnuts is a Very Special kind of asshole.

There’s always this option:

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Yes, that’s right. She whipped that one out AGAIN!!

Because she can.

And Crissy has already drawn up some schematics for how she’ll rig up the penis vanilla ice cream dispenser for the neighborhood children, especially Numbnuts’s children. She’d show you but it’s very complicated and only something a Queen can understand.

Numbnuts is a devout Catholic and so Crissy also thought about painting some abortion scenes complete with smiling bloody fetuses wearing thorny crowns and holding upside down crosses and maybe a little sodomy scene here and there on her front fence for his viewing pleasure.

Also, Crissy will stop making Mister wear pants to mow the lawn for the sole benefit of Numbnuts’s pre-teen daughter.

But what else you guys?

Any formal suggestions from the Queefs should be submitted on the form below: