B’Man’s Redneck Watch: Vagina or Anus?

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Maybe its just a redneck thing, but I happen to like Phil Robertson (and the show, which is one of the few programs that I watch). Even if I don’t agree 100% with his theological insight, I think he should keep being Phil and tell A&E to bite one.

Why? Because when GQ interviewed him, he said:

It seems like, to me, a vagina—as a man—would be more desirable than a man’s anus. That’s just me. I’m just thinking: There’s more there! She’s got more to offer. I mean, come on, dudes! You know what I’m saying? But hey, sin: It’s not logical, my man. It’s just not logical.”

Now, A&E has suspended Phil for his comments. Why? I speculate that A&E must really love them some gays… or something. Because financially, this is a very stupid thing to do, especially since they have brought A&E 14,000,000 viewers per week (which for that particular shitty network, this is something they should never in a million years have kowtowed to political correctness over). I guarantee you that of those 14M, not very many are gays or Jews. Bitching and punishing Phil for voicing his opinion (which is his Constitutional rights) is just plain stupid. And it will cost them because the outrage is building.

So, I suspect that when the Jews who run the show figure out (they aren’t as smart as their media clowns keep insisting, themselves mostly Jews, btw), they will quickly realize how much money they will lose. And, Christ knows, these Jews LOVE them some money even more than they fake loving the gays.

Phil don’t cut no slack. Not long ago, when he was almost censored for praying “in Jesus name”, he basically told them to pound salt. And the network backed down. Funny, Jews love them some gays far more than they love Jesus, yet they banned him for talking about what is evident to me as a man.

There is not a man’s ass in this world that would ever be preferable to a woman’s parts. (Do I really need to write that?)

So, Phil: from one redneck to another…

I salute you for your candor and beliefs.

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Follow @BuelahMan

Did I rub you the wrong way or stroke you just right? Let me know below in the comments section or Email me at buelahman {AT} g m a i l {DOT} com

If for some reason you actually liked this post, click the “Like” button below. If you feel like someone else needs to see this (or you just want to ruin someone’s day), click the Share Button at the bottom of the post and heap this upon some undeserving soul. And as sad as this thought may be, it may be remotely possible that us rednecks here at The Revolt please you enough (or more than likely, you are just a glutton for punishment??), that you feel an overwhelming desire to subscribe via the Email subscription and/or RSS Feed buttons found on the upper right hand corner of this page (may the Lord have mercy on your soul).

All posts are opinions meant to foster comment, reporting, teaching & study under the “fair use doctrine” in Sec. 107 of U.S. Code Title 17. No statement of fact is made or should be implied. Ads appearing on this blog are solely the product of the advertiser and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of BuehlahMan’s Revolt or WordPress.com

Giving Thanks

Funny-Thanks-Giving-27

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My wife thanks you, I thank you, and my anus thanks you

If my anus could talk… it would thank posters here for the following home remedy, after narrowly avoiding painful surgery.

For YEARS I’d suffered an olive-sized growth at my anus. It was an ugly not-so-little secret that undermined my self image, as it made its presence known damn near every time I crossed my legs, went running and during lovemaking, as it tended to “dangle.” At the same time, an anal fissure, which the tag seemed to stand guard over like a sentry, would often bleed and swell. Together they made life miserable. So I made an appointment with a proctologist, tho I’ve always been leery of these professionals. After all, what kind of person jumps thru so many hoops in order to have a career looking at aging butt holes? Still, I was hurting, so I made the crucial appointment.

In the presence of his nurse, the proctologist told me to drop my pants and then took some metal probes–reminiscent of dental hygiene tools—and after some excruciating poking and prying, had me to tidy up, and then held a conference. He drew a picture of my ass hole. It featured a huge anal tag—like a sentry (his words)–guarding a fissure—or ragged little tear–in the anal sphincter. He proposed surgically removing the tag and then cutting out an arc-shaped piece of my anal sphincter to get rid of the fissure. The surgery would be painful, I would be laid up for two weeks and there was a 1 to 3 percent chance that my anus would not work properly after the operation. I signed on, out of desperation, as I’d been debilitated off and on for years, and I’m a busy man, who makes his living five ways–writing, publishing, teaching, consulting and real estate.

Fortunately for me—tho not him–the surgeon burned both hands in a grilling accident before my surgery could take place. Too much accelerant, according to his secretary. When she asked if I’d like to reschedule, I told her “I’ll call you,” and started Googling. One thing I learned was that the hemorrhoid surgery I’d signed on for would be the worst pain I’d ever experienced, would be incredibly disruptive of my life—at a busy time–and might leave me with a leaky anus, not to mention a possible addiction to pain meds. Added to this was my newfound distrust of a surgeon who’d used bad judgment operating a grill. I didn’t want him near my privates.

So I started looking for home remedies and came across your website. Here and elsewhere I read that lots of people had removed all sorts of tags from their bodies with thread or dental floss, and so I put it on my list of things to at least attempt.

Late one night when no one else was about, I contrived to loop dental floss around my anal olive. Positioning a boss flashlight to shine into that shadowy nether region, I cocked my right leg up on my lavatory, bent over and, peering round with great effort into my large bathroom mirror, looped a dental floss noose around my tag, and pulled the draw string. Hurt like hell. I’d tied it on crooked, so that the string cut across the middle of my tag, dividing it into two bulges scored by a painful groove in which the dental floss cut.

For weeks afterward, squirming in pain, I kept hoping for it to shrivel, so I could deliver the coup de grace with nose hair scissors or carpet knife or something. I waited in vain. It stayed plump and full. What’s worse, it felt like a constant toothache in my anus. Through trial and error I learned that Neosporin—the kind that contains aspirin–would relieve the pain temporarily. It also seemed to have a healing effect on my anal fissure. Still, the lumps in my tag stayed round and plump. After about two weeks of on and off pain, I decided to cut the string.

No go. It was sunk inside the flesh of my swollen tag. At this moment of discovery, I had serious regrets about trying the home remedy. The only thing that kept me from giving up and throwing myself on the mercy of my doctor—literally bowing before him–was the prospect of complete and abject humiliation. What might he tell friends or family in our close-knit community, where my work in the media had made me well-known?

So, late at night, forming another tiny noose, bending over, slipping it over and pulling tight, I tried again. This time I managed to tie the dental floss snugly around the base and waited several days. Was it my imagination or was the tag shrinking? Maybe I could snip it off entirely before long. Three days before I was supposed to drive 150 miles to the wedding of a beautiful niece—a drive I knew would be excruciating–I went into the bathroom to apply Neosporin-with-aspirin. Imagine my surprise and delight, when the entire anal tag–rogue floss, groove and all–slipped its mooring and adhered to my tissue. Could this be true? I drew the tissue up and looked at my tormentor, nestled there–a tiny shriveled olive, crisscrossed with grooves. It was a bloodless coup in my nether realm. I’d hung the tyrant.

It’s been three months now and I can’t believe I succeeded in thwarting the surgeon, saving my insurance thousands, and improving my self-image. My tag had been there so long that now it feels novel to have a smooth butt crack, and I never feel the tag hanging there during sex, or while running, or when I cross my legs wrong. It’s truly the gift that keeps on giving.

A final note: I don’t know if the antibiotic Neosporin would work for everyone’s anal fissure. Just four days ago I had grave doubts after I felt the old rawness and swollenness return. So I applied Neosporin several times over the period of a couple of days. Voila, the anus healed again. OK, take it for what it’s worth. Anecdotal, but I think I cured myself, and avoided expensive surgery, debility and possible pain med dependency in the duration.

So, to all who posted testimony here:

My wife thanks you, I thank you, and my anus thanks you.

Thanks-Obama-Voters

Thanks a lot, Jews

family-travel-pain-holiday-thanksgiving-ecards-someecards

Thanks, Bank of America

funny-thanksgiving-card

Thank You, Satan (sayeth the Lord of the Flies)

thumbs_funny_thanksgiving_picture

How Rednecks Celebrate Thanksgiving

Follow @BuelahMan

Did I rub you the wrong way or stroke you just right? Let me know below in the comments section or Email me at buelahman {AT} g m a i l {DOT} com

If for some reason you actually liked this post, click the “Like” button below. If you feel like someone else needs to see this (or you just want to ruin someone’s day), click the Share Button at the bottom of the post and heap this upon some undeserving soul. And as sad as this thought may be, it may be remotely possible that us rednecks here at The Revolt please you enough (or more than likely, you are just a glutton for punishment??), that you feel an overwhelming desire to subscribe via the Email subscription and/or RSS Feed buttons found on the upper right hand corner of this page (may the Lord have mercy on your soul).

All posts are opinions meant to foster comment, reporting, teaching & study under the “fair use doctrine” in Sec. 107 of U.S. Code Title 17. No statement of fact is made or should be implied. Ads appearing on this blog are solely the product of the advertiser and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of BuehlahMan’s Revolt or WordPress.com

Mangez Moi

Weird as it may sound, I took a French class in the 10th grade. Several of us decided to follow the prettiest girls (and teacher) for an elective class. I took that class for about 8 months and all I remember is how to count to 10, a few general words and one phrase that I will never forget…

Mangez Moi.

(Roughly meaning “eat me”)

Of course, we found it funny to pronounce it “manger moi“, with moi being long and drawn out (mo-eeeeee) in a heavy Ernest Angley-eze.

We never seemed to tire of saying it…

all…

year…

long.

So, when Digger posted the video below, I knew I had to share it.

Manger Moi, Rednecks!

Follow @BuelahMan

Did I rub you the wrong way or stroke you just right? Let me know below in the comments section or Email me at buelahman {AT} g m a i l {DOT} com

If for some reason you actually liked this post, click the “Like” button below. If you feel like someone else needs to see this (or you just want to ruin someone’s day), click the Share Button at the bottom of the post and heap this upon some undeserving soul. And as sad as this thought may be, it may be remotely possible that us rednecks here at The Revolt please you enough (or more than likely, you are just a glutton for punishment??), that you feel an overwhelming desire to subscribe via the Email subscription and/or RSS Feed buttons found on the upper right hand corner of this page (may the Lord have mercy on your soul).

All posts are opinions meant to foster comment, reporting, teaching & study under the “fair use doctrine” in Sec. 107 of U.S. Code Title 17. No statement of fact is made or should be implied. Ads appearing on this blog are solely the product of the advertiser and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of BuehlahMan’s Revolt or WordPress.com

Freaky Sex Friday: Planet Earth’s Sex Life Leads To Savage Homosexual Attack

It used to be just them…


Now, they’re coming after us…

Amorous bull damages deputy’s patrol car

“…According to the report, a deputy arrived at the home and noticed a man slapping the bull on the head and leading him across the yard.

The report says the bull then mounted the man and “tried to mate with him,” pinning him between the patrol unit and causing minor damage to the vehicle.

The bull then left the yard and began following a truck down the road.

The man said that he was not injured and did not give the officer time to get his information for a report.”

Article found at The Cabin. h/t Boing Boing

Follow @BuelahMan

Did I rub you the wrong way or stroke you just right? Let me know below in the comments section or Email me at buelahman {AT} g m a i l {DOT} com

If for some reason you actually liked this post, click the “Like” button below. If you feel like someone else needs to see this (or you just want to ruin someone’s day), click the Share Button at the bottom of the post and heap this upon some undeserving soul. And as sad as this thought may be, it may be remotely possible that us rednecks here at The Revolt please you enough (or more than likely, you are just a glutton for punishment??), that you feel an overwhelming desire to subscribe via the Email subscription and/or RSS Feed buttons found on the upper right hand corner of this page (may the Lord have mercy on your soul).

All posts are opinions meant to foster comment, reporting, teaching & study under the “fair use doctrine” in Sec. 107 of U.S. Code Title 17. No statement of fact is made or should be implied. Ads appearing on this blog are solely the product of the advertiser and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of BuehlahMan’s Revolt or WordPress.com

If My Anus Could Talk…

Don’t ask me how I happened upon this (I have some strange friends), but damn I needed the laugh so bad…

Submitted by Butt then again:

If my anus could talk… it would thank posters here for the following home remedy, after narrowly avoiding painful surgery.

For YEARS I’d suffered an olive-sized growth at my anus. It was an ugly not-so-little secret that undermined my self image, as it made its presence known damn near every time I crossed my legs, went running and during lovemaking, as it tended to “dangle.” At the same time, an anal fissure, which the tag seemed to stand guard over like a sentry, would often bleed and swell. Together they made life miserable. So I made an appointment with a proctologist, tho I’ve always been leery of these professionals. After all, what kind of person jumps thru so many hoops in order to have a career looking at aging butt holes? Still, I was hurting, so I made the crucial appointment.

In the presence of his nurse, the proctologist told me to drop my pants and then took some metal probes–reminiscent of dental hygiene tools—and after some excruciating poking and prying, had me to tidy up, and then held a conference. He drew a picture of my ass hole. It featured a huge anal tag—like a sentry (his words)–guarding a fissure—or ragged little tear–in the anal sphincter. He proposed surgically removing the tag and then cutting out an arc-shaped piece of my anal sphincter to get rid of the fissure. The surgery would be painful, I would be laid up for two weeks and there was a 1 to 3 percent chance that my anus would not work properly after the operation. I signed on, out of desperation, as I’d been debilitated off and on for years, and I’m a busy man, who makes his living five ways–writing, publishing, teaching, consulting and real estate.

Fortunately for me—tho not him–the surgeon burned both hands in a grilling accident before my surgery could take place. Too much accelerant, according to his secretary. When she asked if I’d like to reschedule, I told her “I’ll call you,” and started Googling. One thing I learned was that the hemorrhoid surgery I’d signed on for would be the worst pain I’d ever experienced, would be incredibly disruptive of my life—at a busy time–and might leave me with a leaky anus, not to mention a possible addiction to pain meds. Added to this was my newfound distrust of a surgeon who’d used bad judgment operating a grill. I didn’t want him near my privates.

So I started looking for home remedies and came across your website. Here and elsewhere I read that lots of people had removed all sorts of tags from their bodies with thread or dental floss, and so I put it on my list of things to at least attempt.

Late one night when no one else was about, I contrived to loop dental floss around my anal olive. Positioning a boss flashlight to shine into that shadowy nether region, I cocked my right leg up on my lavatory, bent over and, peering round with great effort into my large bathroom mirror, looped a dental floss noose around my tag, and pulled the draw string. Hurt like hell. I’d tied it on crooked, so that the string cut across the middle of my tag, dividing it into two bulges scored by a painful groove in which the dental floss cut.

For weeks afterward, squirming in pain, I kept hoping for it to shrivel, so I could deliver the coup de grace with nose hair scissors or carpet knife or something. I waited in vain. It stayed plump and full. What’s worse, it felt like a constant toothache in my anus. Through trial and error I learned that Neosporin—the kind that contains aspirin–would relieve the pain temporarily. It also seemed to have a healing effect on my anal fissure. Still, the lumps in my tag stayed round and plump. After about two weeks of on and off pain, I decided to cut the string.

No go. It was sunk inside the flesh of my swollen tag. At this moment of discovery, I had serious regrets about trying the home remedy. The only thing that kept me from giving up and throwing myself on the mercy of my doctor—literally bowing before him–was the prospect of complete and abject humiliation. What might he tell friends or family in our close-knit community, where my work in the media had made me well-known?

So, late at night, forming another tiny noose, bending over, slipping it over and pulling tight, I tried again. This time I managed to tie the dental floss snugly around the base and waited several days. Was it my imagination or was the tag shrinking? Maybe I could snip it off entirely before long. Three days before I was supposed to drive 150 miles to the wedding of a beautiful niece—a drive I knew would be excruciating–I went into the bathroom to apply Neosporin-with-aspirin. Imagine my surprise and delight, when the entire anal tag–rogue floss, groove and all–slipped its mooring and adhered to my tissue. Could this be true? I drew the tissue up and looked at my tormentor, nestled there–a tiny shriveled olive, crisscrossed with grooves. It was a bloodless coup in my nether realm. I’d hung the tyrant.

It’s been three months now and I can’t believe I succeeded in thwarting the surgeon, saving my insurance thousands, and improving my self-image. My tag had been there so long that now it feels novel to have a smooth butt crack, and I never feel the tag hanging there during sex, or while running, or when I cross my legs wrong. It’s truly the gift that keeps on giving.

A final note: I don’t know if the antibiotic Neosporin would work for everyone’s anal fissure. Just four days ago I had grave doubts after I felt the old rawness and swollenness return. So I applied Neosporin several times over the period of a couple of days. Voila, the anus healed again. OK, take it for what it’s worth. Anecdotal, but I think I cured myself, and avoided expensive surgery, debility and possible pain med dependency in the duration.

So, to all who posted testimony here:

My wife thanks you, I thank you, and my anus thanks you.

I apologize to my blogging friends who do not appreciate a good fart joke, but this obviously contains more character than a lowly fart joke.

Follow @BuelahMan

Did I rub you the wrong way or stroke you just right? Let me know below in the comments section or Email me at buelahman {AT} g m a i l {DOT} com

If for some reason you actually liked this post, click the “Like” button below. If you feel like someone else needs to see this (or you just want to ruin someone’s day), click the Share Button at the bottom of the post and heap this upon some undeserving soul. And as sad as this thought may be, it may be remotely possible that us rednecks here at The Revolt please you enough (or more than likely, you are just a glutton for punishment??), that you feel an overwhelming desire to subscribe via the Email subscription and/or RSS Feed buttons found on the upper right hand corner of this page (may the Lord have mercy on your soul).

All posts are opinions meant to foster comment, reporting, teaching & study under the “fair use doctrine” in Sec. 107 of U.S. Code Title 17. No statement of fact is made or should be implied. Ads appearing on this blog are solely the product of the advertiser and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of BuehlahMan’s Revolt or WordPress.com