This just in:

I'm bringing sexy back.






Yes, I am BOY CRAZY!

That said, there are still a few things that can snap me back to reality:



Whose masterful hand turned mere melon into a wise old owl? Whoever did this must be a Zeus-like figure, capable of great feats! Either that or some fucking PERV BRAINS with WAY too much time on their hands and a fucked up owl fetish...



Um, so I did an image search for owl fetish and... well, does anyone else think this looks like a dildo? Just me? Okay. Moving on.



So, this may be just rehashing old news but, have I ever mentioned that I did a lot of drugs in college (and high school. Oops!) and THIS TYPE OF SHIT BLOWS MY FUCKING MIND? Like honey dripping from the end of a spoon, or Alex Trebek's moustache, I could spend A LOT of time CONCENTRATING REALLY FUCKING HARD on square watermelons. Wait... what was that?

Oh. Shit.



I'll take Child Molester Moustaches for $200, Alex.



Like a fine wine, or a runny cheese, Trebek just gets better with age. As for this next image, proceed with care.




My GOD! I am like a blind ex-serviceman Al Pacino, when reminded by cheeky school boy Chris O'Donnell of the unavoidable march towards death: What does it all mean? HOOOO HAH! That bare skin is a fucking warning to us all. Trebek's raw animal sexuality cannot be tamed by answers phrased in the form of questions. THERE IS NO ANSWER, DUDES. THAT is what Trebek is fucking TELLING us. THERE ARE ONLY QUESTIONS.

Holy shit. How could I have lived this long and only now- via an Al Pacino simile- have cracked the fucking code. Man, I should fucking play the lottery tonight. I'm feeling lucky.