It started out as a Cub blog with cuss words. I'm still cussin'; it's the Cub part I'm a little squishy on these days.

The Sloth is not intended for younger or sensitive readers!

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Bruce, we gave you tha keys, and THIS is what you brought home?

¿Dónde está mi dinero, las rameras?

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Tuesday, October 18

Tom Likes A He

Kudos to Forklift for the nice anagram of 'Katie Holmes'. Notice that before she met the gay porn star, she was cute, and now she just seems, um, blah? Katie, dear, ask Jen Aniston...don't marry someone cuter than you.

I want to pass along an apology today. I wish I could give you something good every day, either a good Cub rant, or something like the Duggars on Friday. I fuckin' chuckled as I wrote that. If I could pull that off every day, I could rake for National Lampoon, or the Onion, or one of them. I racked my brain all day for an idea, but I just can't manufacture that kind of venom. It has to be real, I can't fake it.

I could jag on President Hopalong and the troll he picked for Supreme Court Justice. My God, she's wound up tighter than Haitian baseballs in 1998. She really needs a solid fuckin', but I doubt yer gonna find a human willing to tackle THAT assignment. Maybe they deliver. (Um, NOT NOT NOT safe for work)

Before I starting popping pills every morning, I felt that way about more things. These days, I'm actually a little more willing to live and let live. I could cut the Paxil from my daily diet, and I'd write better. Then I'd be divorced, again. I love you all from the very core of my loins, but sleeping alone sucks. Always has.

Oh, well, there's always the old standby. Here's some Kiera Knightley for ya. You've been great. Try the veal.