Popanator's Speech

Here is my speech and advice I give to all of you. www.madglibs.com helped me with this one:

Ladies and gentlemen of the Poopie of 69: Wear Corn.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, Corn would be it. The long-term benefits of Corn have been proven by Whore, whereas the rest of my advice has no Fist more reliable than my own Brown experience. I will Fuck this advice now.

Enjoy the Condom and Corn Laden Poo of your youth... oh, never mind. You will not understand the Condom and Corn Laden Poo of your youth until they`ve Fisted. But trust me, in 45 years, you`ll look back at Shits of yourself and recall in a way you can`t Eat now how Delicious you really looked. You are not as Corn Laden as you imagine.

Don`t worry about the Poo. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to Squat a/an Poopie Hole equation by Humping Dildo. The real Shittles in your life are apt to be things that never Eated your worried Poopie Hole, the kind that Dancing you at 6 on some Autistic Tuesday. Do one thing every day that Fucks you. Tard Out. Don`t be Smelly with other people`s Testicles. Don`t put up with people who are Smelly with yours. Rolls.

Don`t waste your time on Computer. Sometimes you`re Yellow, sometimes you`re Red; the Period Blood is long, and in the end, it`s only with your Tampon. Remember Poo Bears you receive. Forget the Nuts. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how. Keep your old Retards; throw away your old Chimpanzees. Spray.

Don`t feel Wet if you don`t know what you want to do with your life. The most Chocolatey people I know didn`t know at 6 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most Chocolatey 7-year-olds I know still don`t. Get plenty of Fists. Be kind to your Tits - you`ll miss them when they`re gone.

Maybe you`ll Slap, maybe you won`t. Maybe you`ll have Milk Droppings, maybe you won`t. Maybe you`ll Lap at 40, maybe you`ll dance the Licious Dog on your 75th Corn Kernal anniversary. Whatever you do, don`t Pick Up yourself too much, or Shit yourself, either. Your choices are half Coffee. So are everybody else`s.

Enjoy your Brown Crayon. Use it in every way you can. Don`t be afraid of it or what other people think of it; it`s the greatest Fingernail Polish you`ll ever own. Sniff. Even if you have nowhere to do it but your Bathroom. Read the Mexicans, even if you don`t Hump them. Do not read Fap Cup magazines; they will only make you feel Mother Fucking Licious.

Get to know your Brothers. You never know when they`ll be Autistic for good. Be nice to your Fathers. They`re your best link to your Condom and the people most likely to Suck with you in the Retard. Understand that friends Fling and Sing, but with a/an Retarded few, you should Shit. Work hard to Scratch the gaps in Crab and Pussy Dripping, because the older you get, the more you need the Fap Rags who Scratched you when you were Lovely.

Live in Popanator's Hole once, but leave before it makes you Awesome. Live in Gopher Hole once, but leave before it makes you Large. Jive. Accept certain Stupid truths: Retards will rise, Whores will philander. You, too, will get Lovely. And when you do, you`ll fantasize that when you were Gay, Retards were reasonable, Whores were noble, and children respected their Faggots. Respect your Faggots.

Don`t expect anyone else to Fist you. Maybe you`ll have a Poopie; maybe you`ll have a/an Delicious spouse. But you never know when either one might Hump. Don`t mess too much with your Poopie Hole or by the time you`re 654 it will look 5. Be careful whose advice you Eat, but be patient with those who Lick it. Advice is a form of Poop; Fucking is a way of fishing the Corn from the Great Almighty Poo, wiping it off, Corn Diving over the Fast parts, and Fucking it for more than it`s worth.

But trust me on the Corn.

Go here for more Popanator's quotes: http://popanator.com/checkout/

Candy Cane Storage

Hey, everybody. It's Willie the aspie, and I wish Poppy would get on assigning us different usernames. I hate being called "Admin," but whatevsies. When the holidays come around, I think it's a great time for a little winter cleaning. While my ass is usually clean, partly due to Poppy's diligent fisting and partly due to the cleansing effect of my unicycle, Poppy's sometimes leaves a bit to be desired. I know, she fists her shit hole every day -- it should be clean enough to eat off of, no pun intended. But the sad fact of the matter is, anuses are dirty places. And given Pop's risky lifestyle, hers is actually worse off than that of a basically normal person like me.

So I approached Poppy the other day and asked her about her shit hole. She beamed at me, but her smile faded a bit when I suggested that her ass could probably use a good, hygienic cleaning. I was shocked to learn that she doesn't brush her ass at all, though her enjoyment of thongs does give it an adequate level of flossing. Luckily for her, I used to sweep the chimney at dad's farm, so I had an appropriate brush. Yeah, I take a giant brush with my everywhere I go -- like a scotsman with his claymore, I don't feel safe unless my weapon is close at hand 24/7.

I instructed Poppy to bend over, which in retrospect I probably shouldn't have, since we were in the parking lot of a grocery store. I just don't think about things like context, but apparently stuff like that is important to those inferior neurotypical types. Whatevsies. I gave her a good scrubbing out, and I was appalled at the condition of her rectum. She's been using it like a purse! I was all, "Poppy! You can't be storing candy canes in your shit hole!" She just kept giggling like a fool. There was all kinds of makeup, brushes and other girly junk in there, but I made certain to pull everything out of her ass that didn't belong there. If there's a lesson to be learned here, it's that your ass ain't for storage. And that you shouldn't empty your rectum all over a parking lot when a bunch of moms are grocery shopping with their kids.

Pooooopies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!1!

Hey, guys. It's Willie the Aspie here, and I've got some crazy news about Poppy. Apparently she's gotten bitten by something or other, and I'm not talking about genital crabs or anything like that. I don't think she's caught my Ass Burgers, as she'd say. Well, maybe she has. She sure likes to get in there a lot. I don't rightly know what's gotten into that crazy girl, but she's been even more shit obsessed than she usually is. The whole thing started a couple of days ago. Since I help her with posting her tard stories, it hasn't really been obvious that she's been out sick. She thinks I have some kinda special connection to retarded people for some reason. But whatever. She came home on Friday with a bite mark on her hand. I've never known Poppy to be much of a fighter, 'cause she's not violent if it doesn't involve defending her corn or fisting a shit hole. I helped her bandage her wound and put some honey on it for disinfection purposes. Normally I wouldn't have gone all out like that, but with her shit fetish there's a lot of infections she can get. The funny thing is, the bite was starting to get all rotty and nasty, even though she insisted it was pretty fresh. I asked her whose ass didn't agree with her, and Poppy told me it was a mouth, as sure as we were breathing. The next day the poor girl came downstairs looking like hell and not feeling much better. I asked her if she wanted anything to eat, expecting her usual retort of screaming "Poopies!" Oddly enough, she was so sick she actually ate regular people food, like cereal and stuff. Of course, by that point keeping down anything was a miracle for her. I suggested she call in, and she went back to bed. I was visiting because I had to take care of dad. He's come down with something, too. I got over to the house on Sunday, and all I can say is "holyshitohmygodpleasesaveme." That ain't too eloquent, but I was never a poet. I've got Poppy's laptop right now, and I'm sitting out on the roof outside her window. She's beatin' on the glass like she wants to break it, and she and dad are all moaning like a pair of pornstars. They just keep moaning "Poopiiiiiiiieeeeeees," and I ain't going back in that house until she takes her fist elsewhere. She's never been that insistent, and she's succeeded in scaring the shit out of me. But no matter how much I throw in the window, she just wants more. I'm empty, people. There are a lot of people gathering around the house putting up the same chant. I hope I can survive this night of the poopy dead.

Willie is all grown up!

Hey, everybody. Your old pal Popanator is a little bummed right now, and not "bum" like poopy hole either. See, I just found out yesterday that my autistic brother Willie had himself a girlfriend. I never even met her until I found out that they'd eloped and moved off together. I know he's technically a little older than I am, but I've always felt like his big sister and the guardian of his poopy hole. Between this and having that crazy boy get promoted, I don't know what to think lately. Your pal the Popanator is just a little depressed.

I mean, who am I going to chase around the house when he starts running around doing that "fire alarm" thing autistics like to do every so often? When we were kids I used to pretend there really was a fire and drag the hose into the house to put it out when he'd do that. Later in life I matured into putting a tube up my shit hole and just spraying diarrhea everywhere. Oh, the memories. At least he's happy, I guess. Since he's older I can't really complain that he got married first, and I really do want what's best for Willie.

I just wish I'd gotten to meet this girl first. I barely know anything about her. One day she came to the door and I honestly thought she was selling something. I'd just invested a lot of my poopies into a venture I'm keeping a secret for now, so I wasn't sure if I'd be able to produce a suitable payment for whatever it was. But then she said her name was Cheri and she was Willie's wife -- and I had to admit she had a nice rock on her finger.

After I picked my jaw up off the floor I called Willie into the front room, and the way he leaped into her arms was both surprisingly agile for an autistic and something I'd never thought possible. Normally he's all weird about touching anybody, but the way he snuggled up into her chest and said "Murr" was total, true asspie love. I was also impressed by how strong she was. Willie's not a small guy, but Cheri held him up like... uh, something that's really easy to hold up.

Then he just moved out, like he was going to the store or something. And I'm sad. I guess I can share my poopies with Jay, but... it's just not the same. I want my brother back!!!!!!!1!!!!

Willie Discovers Spiders!

Hey guys, it's Willie again. I guess Poppy told you guys that I got promoted, and that's cool. I like being able to do something for money that doesn't involve selling a piece of my ass or collecting rents from anybody. Collecting of any kind is not that much fun, 'cause I'm heterosexual by nature. Of course, there are times when I enjoy a little ass action, maybe asstion or something? I don't know. I don't get that deep into it all, but I do know I did something kinda funny with my ass the other day. I guess Poppy goes on and on to you guys about how she's always fisting shit holes, whether it's her own or anybody else's who gets in her path. If she can fist a shit hole, she pretty much does. It's damn annoying living and working with somebody who's always trying to fist everybody. I'm glad I'm not her boss, or I would've had to put a stop to that all the time. But whatever- back to what I did with my ass. Don't worry, everybody, it doesn't involve any fisting. My ass is exit only unless it's a desperate financial situation. See, I was wipin' the other day, as I typically do after taking a shit, and I saw this spider on the wall. It was a tiny little thing and I hate spiders, so I took the tp and just squashed it. Now, I'm not one for wasting things, so I went ahead and wiped my ass with the spider paper. And that gave me an idea... I went on down to the pet shop and bought one of those spiders that's the size of a dinner plate, all nice and hairy. They call it a goliath tarantula, but I didn't plan to hit it with stones. I took that boy home and started wipin' my ass with him like he was half a roll of tp. You should've seen that thing scurry around, all shitty and spidery. It's nice to hold some dominion over an animal sometimes. Thing about the spider is, I liked how his little tiny hairs really scraped lots of shit out of my crack. His thorax was the perfect shape to just slip right through there, and I think what they say about spiders releasing a chemical irritant is overstated, because it felt kinda nice. It even gave me a nice scratch across my taint, so ooh baby. Best $20 I've spent in years. Of course, it's a good thing I got a raise with my promotion. Maybe next I'll duct tape him to a frisbee.

Pissing Blood

Alright poopie fans, this sucks. My Pay Pal button will not show up on this site. I am getting this fixed. Grrr! I'm using what HTML I learned back in 2001 and trying to make a seperate page for ya. Thanks for your patience. Hopefully, I didn't blow too many brain cells sniffing jenkem.

Other than that, I've been enjoying a lovely kidney infection. I am pissing blood. I am pissing constantly. It hasn't effected my job at all with the frequent piss breaks, because I've been using my Autistic Brother Willie's employee of the month trophy. However, it looks like strawberry lemonade. It doesn't taste like it. Infected piss is nasty even by Popanator standards. Oh, well, here is a YouTube vid to show you what bloody piss looks like!

Asspie Power!

Sometimes I forget how a person can have so many sides to their personality. Take my autistic brother Willie for instance. He's an ass pie with some superhuman abilities, but he's also kind of a dunce sometimes. I'm not calling myself a rocket scientist, although he might be able to pull that off. I'm just saying I have no idea how he got promoted the other day. See, Willie works for the same company I do, just in a different section. I work in the call center dealing with people who can't poop (poor souls), while he works in some office with computers and numbers and stuff.
He got promoted, people. I'm not happy about that. I mean, I hang out with Willie sometimes, and he's a pretty good brother but he's not that responsible. Sometimes we like to sit up on the hay bales and shoot pebbles out of our poopy holes. It's a neat little bonding ritual we've got, to see who can shoot stuff a little farther than the other can. I was impressed one time when he shot a bottle cap out of his ass, because those things chafe somethin' awful. He even made it spin somehow, which gave me some respect for the boy. I still call him a boy even though he's 30 years old- he earns it.
I don't see how he can make it to management. Willie's just so immature I can't see him managing anybody. He can't even make a sandwich for himself! He ties his shoes in sailor's knots, and half the time he ties them to his pant legs. I don't know how he manages that. It's like some kind of autistic mystery.

My Autistic Brother Willie

Hey guys, it's Willie again. I've been into my numismatism lately- that's collecting coiny to you guys. There's just something about round metal objects that really gets my boner bonin'. So I got me an idea that I thought was pretty good. I took a pair of my coins and put a little bit of shit between 'em, so that they'd look like those little sandwich cookies people like to eat. I love those things. Of course, I'd have to be crazy to eat coins, so I just put my little sandwich coinies up on a shelf and admired them for a few hours.


Sometimes I can stare at something for hours on end, and it never gets old. We autistics have superpowers, ya know. We can do some pretty amazing shit sometimes. I hear God was an autistic, but then he got weaker after he fought the Incredible Hulk. Shit like that happens, ya know.

Anyhow, I looked at my coiny-wiches, and I thought they'd look better with something light colored in 'em. So I rubbed a pair of coins over my cock and balls, getting really hard and excited. I tried to control where my come went to, but by then my eyes were all rolled up in my head like drapes or something. I scraped some of my fresh come off of the walls, and that made all the difference. Now they looked like sandwich coiny.
Maybe some day I'll do something a little more ambitious with it, like saving up more of my ear wax and making some coiny cases out of it. I guess I could always do another bee hive, but man is that ever a project. And with my autistic animal magnetism, bees keep trying to move in thinking it's their new apartment or something.

A CWC wank!

I know you are all busy and sometimes just want a quick want. Here is some pics of my favourite cam whore! That asspie gives me some of my asspiration!

I love how he winks so seductively winks at me. Remeber at one point he is 100% straight. But, sometimes his autism takes over rendering him powerless over sticking with something, except thos poo holes.


Now, that shit is hawt! He even shaved his pits for this. He's just shaking that bulge!

Now, that is the money shot! OMG! I want to fist that poopie hole. I'm fisting my poopie hole and sitting in a west poopie patch!

Now that's where ya end it! SHOOT YOUR LOAD INTO THAT POOPIE HOLE! OMG I JUST CREAM CORNED MYSELF!

Now, that was a CWC and fabulous wank. Updates about my poopie castle will be up soon. Trying to raise up the money to build my poopie castle is hard and tiring. Only so many online surveys can be done in a day. *sigh* What am I to do?

Guest Post: My Autistic Brother Willie

Hey folks, it's Willie. Just letting you guys know that sis is too busy fisting herself or brushing her teeth with dead cat parts or something to write to you today- people get busy like that sometimes. Anyhow, I figured you guys might like to know what I've been up to the last few months. Truth be known, I'd be happy to tell you guys if I remembered it for myself. Sometimes I just kinda zone out for awhile, and then it's like Thursday. Which is kinda weird, because Thursday is just one day of the week, and it isn't even a special day. Maybe in Poppy's case, it's like "fist two shit holes day" or something like that- the girl's kinda weird.
Well, I did do one thing that's a bit notable lately. I made myself a sandwich. Even though they told me I could never do anything more cohesive with bread and stuff than just stack piece after piece after piece on top of each other (I like to stack a lot of stuff). So I found some marbles, and some speaker wires, and some orange jelly (because I like orange jelly), and I stacked 'em up. Just for some protein, I also put a little bit of tuna on my super sandwich. It was about a foot and a half high, and my instant calculations revealed that I couldn't fit the entire thing in my mouth.

So I took a razor blade, and I started cutting my mouth open- because I deserve to eat any size of sandwich I want to. And when I got my mouth open big enough, I started stuffing that bad boy down there the same way a worm would do.