Yes, we’re actually selling clothes! Currently, t-shirts. TheDirk.com staff is also currently testing snow pants, hoop skirts, and “brons.”
Click here to get you some of these garments.
Yes, we’re actually selling clothes! Currently, t-shirts. TheDirk.com staff is also currently testing snow pants, hoop skirts, and “brons.”
Click here to get you some of these garments.
These have been slightly revised and we wanted someone to see them:

Dear Penthouse:
I never thought this could happen to me.
First of all, I’m a plumber, and with an occupation such as this, you always meet the most interesting people…and the most sexy (as far as I can tell in my limited experience)!
At one morning appointment, I was greeted at the door by a woman! Her enormous bosom, her amber hair, and her petite but pert breasts and her other-genderousness were driving me figuratively mad!
When I got home, my wife could “see” the lust in my eyes.
Immediately, right there in the kitchen, we ate dinner with our kids, watched some TV, and went to the bedroom (thus exiting the kitchen, if you know what I mean!).
We put away our clothes and before you know it, I was literally kissing my wife. Things were getting warmed up. She didn’t need to say anything, but her not pulling away and her still being married to me after seven years was her way of saying, “Sure, I guess!”
“I was wondering if you would try doing fellatio,” I asked.
“No,” she purred.
Soon, we were making love in the missionary position! I couldn’t believe it! It was something we never dared propose to each other. Before this, we’d always relied on a position which involved us being in two separate rooms.
She said she didn’t enjoy it…much!
But that wasn’t all: we also hugged and stroked each other’s hair and eventually fell asleep like animals!

Dear Penthouse:
I never thought this could happen to me…
One night, I guess I was speeding as I drove home after work. I was almost on my last nerve when I heard the sirens and saw the police lights closing in behind me. I was being pulled over.
But I was pleasantly surprised to find that the policeman walking towards my car was not a man at all. And, as she got closer, it became apparent she was a woman. A hot woman. And, might I add, she looked mighty tasty in the navy blue micro-mini and 6-inch high stiletto boots typically issued to policewomen.
When she got to the driver’s side window, she bent down oh-so-slowly (maybe slightly too slowly). I could not keep my eyes off her almost-great cleavage. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” she asked oh-so-sternly as she took off her hat and shook out her long black hair.
“N-no,” I replied. I could barely speak.
“You were going 65 in a 35 mile per hour zone,” she said while simultaneously licking her luscious lips. “And whipping around that curve like that, you could have killed that family walking back to their car from the beach,” she added with a touch of tease.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my license and gave it to her. I knew she wanted it (she asked for it). Then, we got to talking. She said she likes The Smiths. Right there, against the hood of my car, I said I do too. Then we talked for like half an hour about Morrissey. How he really articulates an — up until he came along, anyway — anti-rock and roll concept: shyness and indecision. I’ve never met a woman who liked him and his music as much as I do–and in the same way too. It seemed like she was getting into talking to me. But I couldn’t tell for sure.
Was she was interested in me? Or was she just…I didn’t want to make a move or ask her out and then have her freak. You know, like, “No I don’t want to go out with you! Why does every guy I talk to assume I want to go out with him? Christ!” So, after she gave me my ticket, without hesitation, I hesitated, awkwardly said, “Bye,” and sped off.
But, as I drove away, I was haunted by the fact that she may not have minded if I asked her out. She kind of gave me a look when I said bye. Didn’t she? And she did say, “I never get to talk about The Smiths. This was really nice.” Why would she say that, in that way, if she wasn’t at least trying to show some interest? I shouldn’t have rushed the conversation like that! I should have asked her out! Why did I question it? I have to stop second-guessing myself! For the rest of the drive and for a few hours in the dark of my lonely apartment, I mentally tortured myself like a stallion (torturing itself).

Dear Penthouse:
You have an e-greeting from
your mother
at http://www.bluemountain.com/birthdaywishes/4r9889u3ili?crig/penthouse
Click on the link above and enjoy!
DIDYAKNOW that the reason people don’t set theyselves aflame is not the pain involved but POOR MARKETING OF THAT ACTIVITY OVER THE LAST THREE DECADES!

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Elgin, IL – The French Belle erotic dance club opening next Tuesday morning in this small Illinois town is going to offer something just a little different than what the typical strip club patron may expect. “It’s feminist-friendly!” owner Chuck Rab says. And he reminds local wives, mothers, and female college students of this whenever they express their wariness of yet another local den of pole-dances and females degrading themselves for sweaty dollars.
The first thing one notices upon driving up to the nondescript windowless building is the marquee. “Hot Ass Bent-Over Womyn” it reads, incorporating the “men”-less spelling of “women” favored by some harder-lined feminists. Rab does not seem swayed by the prospect that potential customers may find a pro-feminist strip club to be a turn-off. “I don’t care. I’m going to do what’s right for womyn,” declared Rab. “And I’m spelling that with the ‘myn’ when I say that.”
The Web site announcing the grand opening of the club includes other female-sensitive blurbs. “Cum see girls with jobs (as hot strippers) flop they tits about!” reads one. “Jade is your housewife and begs you to let her go to the feminist tea party. She’ll do anything for you if you let her!” declares a poster advertising one of the club’s stable of dancers dressed only in heels and an apron (which she holds in her hand). Another performer goes by the nom de stripper Gloria Stein-Anus-Em, which is a pun on the name of the women’s rights champion.
“Also, our club is not named ‘Women Are Just Objects to Rub Your Parts On,’” Rab said proudly.

Acrylic-heeled shoes help women reach closer to the glass ceiling even if not quite to the point that they can break through it.
“It’s not like he’d be able to lift that building with his bare hands and just walk it over here.”
“Well, it’s not as hard as it seems.”
“What?”
“I’m not saying any human could come close to doing it; I’m just saying I bet it’s not exactly as hard as it seems. Probably a little less hard.”

This is what The Elders of The Dark Tower (of Xxoron) now has featured up on they Web site:
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Susan Anton of Carson, CA, was burned to death Tuesday night after a fire engulfed her home. Anton tried to call for help but did so through the novelty “Dylan Messaging” Web site, which proved less effective than other means of communication probably would have been.
“If she had simply used the phone and called 9-1-1, someone may have gotten her out of there on time,” says Carson Fire Chief Ed Pratt. “Or maybe if even music legend Bob Dylan didn’t fidget so much before turning past the first page or whatever you call those things he’s holding in the video.”
Click here to see message.


Hey, Dr. Science-Patterson! How does the tongue distinguish sweet things from sour things or bitter things? Food Lover in Fredericksburg , MD
Dear Food Lover Like a lot of things in the world of natural sciences, this phenomenon is amazing yet quite simple. Your tongue can pick up on the difference between a piece of candy or a salty bite of fish the same way you do. For example, when you put these items in your mouth, you’re able to tell right away what’s sweet and what’s salty, right? The tongue uses the exact same processes (pronounced “pro-cess-ease” like scientists say it).
Please send whatever good science questions you have!

Free version of a picture of a tongue
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Cincinnati, OH – Jackson Strapp, head commissioner of people with office jobs (PWOJ), announced a new logo for the always-expanding league this morning during a press conference. “I think this new logo captures the excitement of office work. Hopefully, this will help attract new fans to come watch what these 80-some million professional office workers do every day,” said Strapp.

The new official logo for people with office jobs (PWOJ)
More inspirational quotes from legendary Mt. Saint Claire High football coach Barry Murphy:
“There is no ‘I’ in ‘team.’ There’s also no ‘k’ in ‘telescope,’ I don’t think. And you shouldn’t put swear words in your papers. And I don’t even know what this punctuation mark is. Tell you what, Ciske, we can’t have the school throw you off the team, so I’ll just rewrite this for you. Assuming you become an NFL player, you won’t need to learn how to write anyway. When’s this due?”
“Winning isn’t everything, gentlemen. It’s the only thing. So, Prather, I just want you to understand why I’m confused when you ask me for a new helmet. Because there are no helmets or other things, just winning.”
“Brett, could you stop smoking your pipe when you’re out on the field? I think the cherry maple scent may be putting your teammates in the overly relaxed mindset of sitting in leather chairs in front of a fireplace.”
“I know our mascot is loud and fairly disturbing (we are the Mt. Saint Claire High Shrieking, Burning Businessmen after all), but you need to not be distracted by him and keep your head in the game.”

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