Ultrarealism

Where I have been

2007-04-02T23:00:00.000-05:00

First of all. Settle down. Stop yelling and general bellyaching. I will get to your questions in a moment.

I know you are wondering where I have been since September when I last posted. The question to ask is not "where" but "What location or locations have you been at from the time you last posted to now." The reason I wasn't posting was because I was having sex. I had sex with my conjoined nonuplet girlfriends (see my last post). It takes a long time and I like to make each one of my girlfriends satisfied three times before I excstaticly shoot out my jism and throw it around the room. Then I move on to the next one.

The problem is is that, and you're gonna laugh. I go around my nonuplet girlfriends clockwise from the 12 o'clock girlfriend and work my way around. But I kept forgetting my place because they squirm around so much and because I keep forgetting my place. So I had to start over again a bunch of times.

Conjoined Nonuplet Girlfriends

2006-09-03T22:16:00.000-05:00

When nine babies are born at the same time to the same mother, they are called nonuplets. The babies are called that. Not the mother. She’s not part of the set of kids. It’s like they’re twins, only nine of them, though. It’s like nine twins. It must hurt the mom to shoot all nine of them out her ass. You know she’s gonna be feeling that for a long time. Anyway, it would be worse if they were all stuck together like those conjoined twins. It would be conjoined nonuplets. There’s this one girl down the block from me who I have been dating for some time now. She’s a conjoined nonuplet. Her parents are Japanese anime cartoons; which is surprising because it is very rare that Japanese anime cartoons have nine conjoined babies that leak out into the real world. But they are pretty, though. One problem I have with all of this is that I have a hard time telling my girlfriend apart from her other eight identical conjoined sisters. So that’s why I just date all of them at the same time. It is easier for all of us. Plus, they don’t mind it when I call them all the same name. They practically all have the same name, they just spell the name slightly differently. One is Ilene, another is Aileen, then there is Ayeleen, I’Leane, Ileen, Isleene, Ilean, and the other one is Aeileane. The funny thing about all of it is that they don’t even lean. Mostly they just lie around because it is way easier than standing and walking. If they have to get somewhere fast, they cartwheel.

All Ears Lady

2006-08-25T22:03:00.000-05:00

No matter how good of a story I have to tell, people who say, “I’m all ears.” are big fat liars. People who are all ears don’t have mouths. People who are really all ears are NOT liars like those people who say they are but aren’t, because they can’t tell you they are all ears because they are all ears. There was this lady who I was telling a fascinating story to and she said she was “all ears” and she was. The only thing she lied about was the part where she said that she was all ears. She didn’t have a mouth, so I knew it was a lie that she was talking in the first place. But other than that, I find those people to be nice. They’re good listeners.

Spleens and Pancreases

2006-08-20T20:16:00.000-05:00

My spleen and my pancreas don’t like each other. They don’t get along so I have to separate them. Truth be told, the real reason I think they don’t like each other is because they are so similar. They see in each other what they don’t like in themselves and it scares them. They also want to be special, but having the other around makes them realize that they aren’t as special as they would like. You see, they are essentially the same organs even though we call them different names. They are starting to figure that out. But really, a spleen is just your body’s way of making sure it has enough pancreases. Technically, you don’t even need a spleen. It is like a stunt double for your pancreas. It only works when your pancreas is tired or is too scared to pancreate that day. You could get rid of your spleen and still be fine so long as you trained your pancreas to have more endurance. Of course, if you ever got mad at your pancreas, you could replace it with two spleens. It might be better that way anyway, because if you filled yourself up with spleens, they would all get along much better than spleens and pancreases. That’s what I’m going to do.

Hot Chicks Bite

2006-08-16T21:20:00.000-05:00

When hot chicks fight it means they want me. It especially means it when they dig their nails into the meat of the other one and scratch until they collect a pile of skin up under their fingernails. They should bite each other on the arms and face. That’s a good way to do it. I have two hot chicks that I train how to fight. The best way to do it is to try to rip off the eyebrows of the opponent. It humiliates them and then they get really mad and bite the nose of the other opponent and blow in their nose. If you blow in someone’s nose it is like cardiact recessitation. But it is only cardiac recessitation when a person is not breathing. When you do it when they ARE breathing, then it makes them stop breathing. It’s like a light switch. If it is dark, then working the switch makes it light. But if it is light, working the switch doesn’t make it lighter. It makes it darker. And then you can’t see as well because you need more light than that in order to see. So that’s why you have to use a light switch. Plus, the hot chicks can’t see where to bite each other on the face when there isn’t enough light. So, work the switch in the direction of it making the room have light! Then the hot chicks can bite each other harder and harder until they can tell how much they want me.

Eskimo Sand Paper

2006-08-15T21:23:00.000-05:00

Sand paper is paper that is made out of sand instead of really thin papery rocks like regular paper is made out of. The Inuit of the igloos knew this long before White people ever inhabited this continent. They kept it secret because they didn’t have trees to sand the splintery wood of until it was smooth. It was already smooth. It was so smooth that it wasn’t even there. That’s why they had to keep the sand paper away, because the wood was already so smooth that it wasn’t even there. If it was any smoother, it would be there even less. Then, when they needed it, it wouldn’t be there until way later and then it would be too late. That’s why there’s the old saying “Don’t give an Inuit sandpaper.”

Pluto Is Too A Planet

2006-08-14T15:22:00.000-05:00

For the past several years people have been asking me if Pluto is a planet or not. OK, lets' get something very clear. Pluto IS a planet. This is not debatable. Pluto is a planet because I say it is a planet. The only reason people say maybe it is not a planet is because there are 134,339 objects circling the Sun that some people call minor planets and they think Pluto is just like those "minor" planets. Well, I have news for you big meanies. Those minor planets are sick and tired of your attitude. Their all way bigger than you and they can totally kick your ass at orbiting the Sun. They can also totally kick your ass at other things like kicking your ass. So shut up about them not being planets. They are way more of a planet than you'll ever be. And plus, face it, the real reason you don't want Pluto to be a planet is because then the minor planets would be regular planets and you are just too damn lazy to memorize all 134,349 of them. You bastard.

My Fingernails Can See

2006-08-14T07:44:00.000-05:00

I figured that if my finger tips didn't have something to hide, they wouldn't be hiding underneath my fingernails. I decided that this will not stand. I peeled back my fingernails and climbed inside. I didn't need a flashlight because it was daytime out and I was outside where my fingers were. There were only a few steps down on the stairs because my fingers aren't that big. I looked around but only saw pink meaty stuff everywhere. So, OK. Maybe THIS time. But I decided to keep my eye on it. So right before I left to go back up the stairs, I took out my eye and left it there on the pink meaty stuff. Then I climbed back out of my fingertips and shut the nails tightly. It is important to shut them tightly or else things fall out. So I stapled them good and tight. Now they won’t flap open in the wind. And since I left my eyeball in there, I can see the inside of my nose sometimes.

Tube Steak for Dinner

2006-08-12T18:37:00.000-05:00

Bowel Movements Grandma

2006-08-10T19:57:00.000-05:00

My grandmother is always interested in the quality of my bowel movements. She calls them BMs. My grandmother goes to me, "So, did you have a nice BM?". And I am like totally embareassed because I had just had the most beautiful and life affirming BM of my life (you would have fallen in love with it. I thought about framing it, but I didn't.) and I am standing there in the middle of our living room with like 12 other people my parents had for dinner. I'm like, "Grandma! Why would you ask me such a thing?" And she's all like, "Duh! I can see your pants sagging." Then I got mad because she knows I am collecting them and I am waiting to put on a show when my collection is complete and she knows my collection isn't complete yet. She's just jealous because she hasn't made a BM in like 3 weeks. Plus, I was already mad because I found out that she has been sneaking into my bed at night and stealing my BMs for her own collection, just so people won't suspect that she hasn't been making her own in 3 weeks. So, I was like, "Fine! Tell everyone about my secret BM collection in my pants! You haven't made your own BM in 3 weeks and the only reason you have a BM to show people is because you stole mine when I was in bed at night." Then the 12 people that my parents had had for dinner were all like laughing and pointing all of their fingers at my grandmother. She was so busted. Then she yelled, "I do to so make my own BMs! I was just borrowing yours to make sure your BMs were good. I can't tell anymore since you don't keep your collection in your sock drawer like you used to." Then I realized that she was right and she just did it because she cares about me. Then we all held hands and I regailed them with detailed stories of my recent BMs. Afterwards she gave me back several BMs that she had stolen from my collection in my pants. I put them back in my pants and my grandmother and the 12 people my parents had had for dinner were happy.

Flipflop Word Sign

2006-08-08T21:22:00.000-05:00

I was out skipping down Main Street in my little sister's old flip flops that I made into a dress, you know, like I do every Tuesday. I had to stop skipping and rhythmically honking a bicycle horn because a church sign decided to speak out against me. Well not speak out, don't be stupid. It worded out against me with its words. When its words shot into my eyes I almost tripped onto the sidewalk (which would have hurt on account of the flip flops offering little in the way of protection and I wasn't wearing any underwear or a condom this time). The cheese I was making in my mouth fell out onto the dirty sidewalk. Now it's going to be all crunchy. But that's besides the point. The point is, the sign clearly doesn't like me. I'd say its hostility is duly noted. Though, frankly I am flattered that it thought enough to mention to me that bingo was tonite. I marked it on my calendar when I got home. But that's besides the point. Stop being besides the point. I'm trying to say something. Well, not say something. Don't be stupid. I'm trying to word something with my words. This is the words I am making: The sign is against me, which has made water shoot out of my eyes so hard that I decided to skip back (sullenly) to my front lawn and spin around in circles. At least the grass liked me. It was thirsty. You can tell it's thirsty because it turns itself brown. Thats' grass words for "I'm thirsty". It wasn't thirsty after about half an hour. Some of the neighborhood kids put their bathing suits on and ran around the front yard while I was spinning and shooting water out of my eyes. They didn't do that the whole time. They stopped when their parents yelled at them to get away from me. I think they're dumb like the sign.

Let's settle this once and for all. Are you on the side of the sign or the grass? Word your words in the comment word section.

Lesbian Ass Candles

2006-08-07T22:18:00.000-05:00

You know how when you prance through the forest with a candle in your ass and the candle burns down to a nub and singes your ass hairs? That’s been happening to me a lot lately. The forest lesbians keep me prancing with their tricky lesbian ways for longer than I realize and then before I know it, my ass hair is singeing. It smells. They all laugh at me. I’m just waiting to see if when they stop kissing each other, they’ll start kissing me. But they never do. They’re always just kissing each other only. I always feel like I can imagine myself in there doing it also. It seems so real, like it is about to happen. When I lean in to participate, they twist my nipples hard and push my face in with their meaty hands. It hurts. But it doesn’t hurt as bas as when one of the lesbians sneaks around behind me and slams the candle with a shovel. It puts the candle out. So that’s good. But it shoves the candle into my ass too. That’s bad. I’m getting quite the collection in there. One lesbian said I should start a Wicks ‘N Sticks store in my ass. I might. I heard it was lucrative, which is like laxative; which is what I need real bad.

One Red Paperclip and Barf

2006-08-05T23:26:00.000-05:00

I traded my house for one red paperclip. Some have said that that was a bad deal for me. But they’re just jealous because they didn’t think of it first and they wanted to think of it first but they didn’t and know look who’s crying. THEM! HA HA. My one red paperclip now holds 12 pieces of paper together. My stupid house never could do that. I had these 12pieces of paper that I wanted to stick together, but I couldn’t ever do it. They were all close together, but they were loose. They slid around all willy nilly and their edges wouldn’t line up. It was completely disgusting. There was this one time when I looked at the 12 pieces of loose paper and my brain thought to my brain of how ugly and distempered the papers were and I lost my lunch. That was right after dinner. So, my lunch had to come up past my dinner that was sitting there and force its way through to make it up into the back of my mouth and out through my teeth. I knew I had lost my lunch because I had had beans and weenies for lunch and bsketti with meatballs for dinner. None of the meatballs or bsketti strings were in the pile of chunks on the floor. Only beans and weenies. So, let that be a lesson to you. Unless you want to throw up my lunch right after you have dinner, you should trade your house for one red paper clip.

Darth Vader Space Money

2006-08-04T21:03:00.000-05:00

Yes, it is true. Darth Vader works in a grocery store. There is a undercover camera (probably from the CIA or CTU or maybe the rebel forces keeping tabs on the empire) that caught the whole thing on recordered sight and sound video machines. Go two entries down to see. But before you do, put these words in your eyes:

PLEASE, even though Darth Vader is made out to be a bad guy in the movies, don't believe everything you know about him. He is really Bruce Willis and he's sensitive about the whole Luke Skywalker dating Demi Moore thing. Just let him be. The link to the video is a couple posts down. My other posts on the topic will illucidate the topic for you and then when you finish reading them, you will be more illucidated than you had been previously, unless you already knew it because you are from the CIA or the CTU or maybe the rebel forces keeping tabs on the empire.

Whatever you do, don't snicker at him. He works in the grocery store to keep his cover, yeah, but also because he needs the money. Even though movies pay a lot of money, Darth Vader is from space, and they don't take space money here. So, he needs real money to use and this is all he knows to do. Not to mention, the snickering at him hurts him even though he doesn't show it and even if he chokes you and lifts you off the ground using the Dark Side. He's really just sensitive. That is why he turned to the Dark Side in the first place; all the snickering at him. And not the good kind of snickering, with the chocolate, caramel, peanuts and the newgit. That kind of snickering would make him stay on the Light Side and he wouldn't have to hide behind all the pain in his breathey breathey black cape suit.

Bruce Will Is

2006-08-03T07:28:00.000-05:00

Bruce Willis, like I have said before, is really who Darth Vader is. Sorry for the spoiler, but if you haven't seen the movie yet, you probably won't at this point. Bruce Willis tells Luke Skywalker to give in to the Dark Side. So, he does. Luke does give in to the Dark Side. By the way, Luke Skywalker is Ashton Kutcher, which is what explains why Ashton gave in to the Dark Side and is permanently dating Demi Moore, who is really his sister, Princes Layer.

Now Bruce Willis works in a grocery store. There is a documentary about it in my last post, which verifies this one.

Darth Grocery Store

2006-08-02T22:50:00.000-05:00

Chad Vadar: Day Shift Manager

My eyes fed my brain some sight juice to share with you. Make your eyes drink it too and you can be like me. Darth Vader is my father. I gave in to the Dark Side like he asked.

Edit August 4, 2006: Darth Vader is NOT my father. That would make me Ashton Kutcher. But I am not him, because I am not going steady with my sister, Princess Layer.

I have given in to the Dark Side, though. But only some times and NOT because Darth Vader told me to. He's not my father. He's not the boss of me.

Cat Balls Fingers

2006-08-02T17:29:00.000-05:00

My cat leaned over and started licking his balls. But then I realized it wasn't really true. What happend really was that his balls French kissed his tongue. "How clever is that?" I wondered aloud in my head. His balls periodically fall in love with him and decide to show their affection by French kissing him. But not too deep though. They can only go so far. They'd go for the tonsils, I'm sure. But they can't reach. They don't have tongues like the main part of the cat. They have to settle for having hair. Unfortunately I found out that my balls aren't nearly as enamored of me. They never try to French kiss me. I have bad breath on account of the cheese I am making in my mouth. I think my balls are in love with my finger nails. I'm sad about it, but I am happy they have found each other at least.

Slingball Sparks

2006-07-31T20:10:00.000-05:00

Trailer hitches don’t always have a way with putting hamsters out of work, but sometimes it really seems so especially because of the time that it did go that way. There was this hamster that was out of work largely in part due to the trailer hitch thing that I mentioned earlier. So, that leads me to believe that it must have been true at least for a little part of the clock. I don’t know if ticks get fleas, but it sure seems that way according to that pointy eyed lady that saw me in the grocery store parking lot by the dumpster looking for scraps of metal to scrape together in the wind to make sparks so I could see if sparks hurt when they land in my eye, or if they are just way way bright and only hurt because of they’re being way way bright or if their hotness is part of it too. Their hotness in my eye was different from the time I put jalepeno juice in my eye. That was hot in a different way. The different way is like when I am riding my bike and my scrotum plops out of my shorts and gets caught in my bicycle chain. It wouldn’t get so hot if I didn’t keep peddling to see how far it would stretch. The hottest it gets is when I am going really fast and my scrotum plops out on to my front tire and then I put on the brakes and the wheel rubs and rubs on me because I am squeezing so hard to stop because it is getting hot and I have to stop or else my balls will explode like the last time. Did you know that when my balls scab over, the scabs taste salty? It’s funny and it makes milk come out of my nose. One time, I laughed so hard spaghetti came out of my nose. I don’t know how that works because I hadn’t had spaghetti in a long time. I’m glad it stopped though. I was beginning to worry when it was still happening the next day.

Look What I Made

2006-07-28T20:45:00.000-05:00

I made this out of macaroni noodles and gafilter fish. You know, if you just put your mind to it, you can do anything. Anything at all. In fact, you just pour water into this contraption and bake it at 370 degrees for two complete revolutions and you can overthrow the regime that is in power these days. Fidel Castro of Cuba had one. He put gin in it and look what he was able to acheive. OK, so don't look at it. Stop yelling at me. YOU are a Zune.

A Nightmare in the Daytime

2006-07-28T18:13:00.000-05:00

I don't know if it is just me but sometimes my boogers seem to take over the world. I wake up and there are brown boogers all over my bed, in my hair, and mysteriously on my fingers. My fingers are absolutely covered with them. I can hardly see my thumbnails too. One day I was so startled by all the boogeriness that I jumped out of bed in the middle of the night and ran into the living room where I had killed my girlfriend for having called it a family room. I hate that when people call a living room a family room. No, wait, I killed my family in the family room for calling it the living room. Wait. I forgot. They weren't my family, they were more boogers that were tricking me into thinking that my family room was a living room. Then when I remembered that, I got scared. So I ran into the family room instead. As I ran in there I noticed that the floor was all crunchy and stuff. More brown boogers, but the hard roley poley kind that kind of hurt your feet when they get stuck in your socks. I'm not scared of those kind. I am especially not scared of them because I know they will soon be boogerdust when Satan comes to reclaim their souls. Anyhow, I got an idea when I was doing my anti-booger jumping jacks on the couch in the family room. I knew Satan wasn't coming any time soon, partly because he only comes every other Tuesday, but also because he doesn't really exist. So, I decided to wage jihad on the brown boogers just like it says to do in the Koran, the ancient book of Chinese wisdom. I folded my couch and loveseat under my arm and took them into my bedroom where they don't usually belong but this time I think they DID belong there because it was a jihad that I was in the middle of. I went in with a look of consternation (which looks almost the same as constipation. Did you ever notice that? Don't answer me because I can't hear you. I wrote this way before you read it, so I can't write back and have a conversation because I am not here now. I only used to be.) Then I used my couch to wipe up the brown boogers that were everywhere. First I wiped my fingers off in between the cushions and on the side and on the bottom and on the back of the couch. Then I rubbed the couch every place except for the ceiling. The couch was too heavy to reach the ceiling so that is what I knew I would need the loveseat for. At first I didn't know why the boogers seemed to reappear shortly after I would wipe the ceiling. Then I realized that I had to turn the fan off because they were still flinging around on the top of the walls. Finally at about 8:26 in the morning I finally got all the boogers under control finally. Then I went to the doctor and he told me I have a dingle berry problem.

Short People Squirrels

2006-07-26T18:18:00.000-05:00

I hate it when midgets punch me in the nuts. It seems like it happens more and more these days. I like the word "midget", but I draw the line when they punch me in the nuts. My nuts aren't built for that kind of punishment. "midget" sounds like such a friendly word. It just rolls off the tongue. Even if the midgets don't like me to call them midgets, I still like to say the word a lot. If they don't want me to call them that, I wouldn't mind calling myself that, just so I could say the word "midget". But I don't call myself anything usually, so I wouldn't get to say the word "midget" very often. That makes me kind of sad. I sometimes want to cry because of it. But I really do cry for real when midgets punch me in the nuts. Sometimes I even squeal like a kindergarten girl on a playground when I get punched. I usually fold forward at the waist just before I start squealing. One time it happened and I folded over and squealed until I hit my face on the cement sidewalk. My two front top teeth sank into the cement and I got stuck. That sucked because I got stuck for quite a while. It seemed like a long time. I was there stuck like that for such a long time that I thought about chewing off my leg, but then I remembered that it wasn't my leg that was stuck.

Ultrarealism: Safeness Warning to You

2006-07-25T21:22:00.000-05:00

Ultrarealism: Safeness Warning to You

Safeness Warning to You

2006-07-24T07:13:00.000-05:00

There was this lady who wouldn’t keep her thumb out of my anus. I thought it was rude. I was just standing on line and she kept sticking her thumb in her mouth and then sticking it in my anus when I wasn’t looking. I like to keep my eyes closed when I am waiting on line because lines scare me. I am always afraid that something bad is going to happen. Well, anyway, this lady was pestering me and pestering me with the thumb in my anus. I think I am going to start wearing pants instead of a kilt. I said, “Look lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but my anus is off limits to you. Stop sticking your thumb in my anus, you anus thumb sticker inner.” I hate those anus thumb sticker innerers. They all go around thinking that they can just stick their thumb in my anus any time that they darn please. Not one of them has had a license to do that so far. It makes me mad. The other day I was reading a phone book looking for funny names, when I turned around and found three people with their thumbs in my anus. That startled me and then I got mad. I had to perform karate on them. Since then I decided that instead of wearing pants, I am going to have to wear a cork. I wrote on the cork, “Don’t put your thumb in my anus or I will perform karate on you.” It has worked so far.

A Balloon Animal With Pizza Feet

2006-07-21T19:36:00.000-05:00

I had a headache the size of Mount Rushmore. What made it all the more worser was the fact that my head was smaller than usual that day. I don't know how it happens-sometimes I fall asleep in front of the open window and the cool winter breeze gradually shrinks my head while I am sleeping. It isn't all at once, though. I think it happens gradually over a period of a couple of days. I think it takes several successive days of cool air to do its dastardly deed. I think that is how it happens, but that's just the thing…It is harder to think when my head is smaller. That's how it gets ya. I don't notice it until people start calling me pinhead. That, and when my hat touches my shoulders makes me start thinking that it's not that the world is getting bigger, but it is my head getting smaller again. Sure I sprinkle alum on my breakfast cereal just like the average Joe. But I'm not ready to give it up. Besides, I know lots of people who have eaten alum every day for years and years and their heads are just fine. But that is beside the point. My brain isn't shrinking at the same rate. The metabolic activity of my brain, which has the highest metabolic rate of all of my organs, produces copious amounts of heat, keeping the effects of the cold wind from shrinking it as fast as my skull. That's where the problem is. The solution, of course, is a tried and true method developed before Mesopotamia was established as a civilization. My grandmother told me about it. She called it "treponig". That's the wrong way to say it, though. She said it that way because she didn't have any teeth or a nose. They shot it off when she was in a gang initiation. The real way to say it is "trephoning", not the stupid wrong way that she used to say it before she was paralyzed. Well, anyway, to get rid of a headache when you don't have aspirin or your religion forbids you to use pork products (aspirin, or acetylsalicilic acid, is made from the byproducts of partially defatted cooked pork fatty tissue, and sand, which gives it its color and flavor) you can use the little known method of trephoning. The aspirin companies don't want you to know about this powerful technique for obvious monetary reasons, so they keep it under wraps. The way you do it is when a person has a splitting headache and the option of aspirin is not available (or sometimes just because you are angry at the aspirin companies for the cover-up) you take a small chisel and a hard rubber mallet and you make a hole in the poor afflicted person's skull. The hole shouldn't be too big. Not so big that their brain can fall out when they are on a roller coaster or go flinging across the room when they say "no". Make it about the size of a silver dollar (smaller, if their brain is already the size of a silver dollar- a cat scan is helpful if you suspect this. Home cat scan kits are available. Many convert the microwave oven you already have to save money). That should relieve the pressure, which is what a headache is, when the size of the brain increases relative the capacity of the skull. If you are conservative with the size of the holes, you can add more holes later as needed. When I was growing up we used to trephon whoever needed it in the family. It was a great bonding experience and relieved many a headache of my grandmother before she became unexpectedly paralyzed for no reason at all. I learned to do it to myself when I was 12. I did it in secret in the bathroom when I was pretending to take a shower.

The End (the end where it begins, not the ending end)

2006-07-20T22:12:00.000-05:00

So, anyway, having securely strapped the raspberry Jell-O to the lamppost, I had to itch myself in public because it is more satisfactory to me when I do it in public. You know how when you have to itch yourself it feels so much better if you can go to the food court at the mall and itch yourself in front of an old lady with blue hair and then just go to town when she is trying to put the falafel in her ears? Well, it’s like that with me too. So after I filled my fingernails up with the crud scrapings from my pubes, I went to the bra store to wipe myself with ladies underwear and secretly blow farts in them and then put them back. It makes me thirsty so I usually just go around trying to suckle until someone lets me. It can be hard to find someone to let me suckle, so I have to plan ahead. I have to start doing it before I get too thirsty. Otherwise, I get too thirsty and I have to go all the way home to suckle from my dog. His nipple is too long and stretchy though. It only gives one good squirt of milk after about a minute of sucking hard. Then he runs dry and starts to bite me.