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Thag do art!

cave paintingsEver since he’d started making the cave paintings, Thag had noticed that the women in the Thunka Grunka clan had been looking at him differently.

Perhaps it was his position as the leader of the hunting party, but he thought it had more to do with his artwork.

Whatever the case, he was gettin’ some on a regular basis.

Nominally, he was still mated to Onga, but she had all but deserted him for that scrotum-with-eyes shaman, Weasel-Scratch-Face-Brother. In fact, it had been Onga’s desertion, and his ensuing depression, which had spurred Thag into creating more artwork for the cave.

The younger unmated women of the clan seemed to like his deft representations of the animals they hunted, particularly Vunga, the half-daughter of the Shaman.

“It looks so spiritual,” Vunga would say whenever he completed a painting.

“Thag suffer for art,” he confided, looking pained, unsure, filled with angst.

“Oh, poor Thag,” Vunga would say, and then take him by the hand so that they could go for a “walk” in the forest.

On such occasions, Thag could swear he could hear the sound of Weasel’s teeth grinding from his shaman’s perch outside the cave.

“Thag do art for Vunga tomorrow,” he would promise as they walked into the shaded trees, her hips swaying like the boughs in the breeze.

You can discover more about Sex and the single artist here. Other sexy beasts here.


  1. “Thag suffer for art,”

    you have just topped “mongo just a pawn in game of life”

    i believe richard pryor wrote that gem. bu all means stay away from flames.

  2. Isn’t that from Blazing Saddles? That line is second only to:

    “Badges? We don’t need no steenkin’ badges!”

    And a close runner up is:

    “Where all the white women at?”


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  5. […] But Thag was not having as much fun as he hoped. First of all, nobody was willing to swap for Onga, despite her beauty and physical charms. Her affair with the Thunka Grunka shaman, Weasel-Scratch-Face-Brother, had become somewhat of a Grunka legend, and nobody wanted that kind of trouble. (Even though there were lots of mates willing to be swapped to Thag, despite his lack of physical beauty and charm. His cleverness as a hunter, and even more importantly, as an avant-garde cave painter was also something of a legend.) […]

  6. I think this shows, more than anything, the essential uselessness of Art.

    If I hear the phrase “sensitive new age guy” one more time I’ll barf, and make sure I’m looking at the closest woman I can find….

    Feminism really has made an open mouthed fool of itself in more ways than one….

    If men, as a social group, don’t give a toss what women want, then suddenly things are more equal than they first were.

    I say unto the feminists…..if security is so important, and the two cars and the house, GO OUT AND EARN THIS FOR YOURSELF, rather than turning the male population into ball-less, bi-sexual, cross dressing, astrologically aware vegetarians just to increase the possibility of opening the legs of the women in this world….

    If I want “some”, I put down my money and go to a brothel…..

    Otherwise, WHO NEEDS EM?

    I’ll be financially secure, have my house and car etc paid off, and I won’t have to put up with the endless garbage that seeps from the mouths of modern women. Moving from one emotional crisis to another, they divorce at the drop of a hat, whine endlessly about their wants and needs, and have succeeded in convincing all concerned that raising children is a difficult job….

    It’s only as difficult as you let it become…

    Who needs a regular bedmate?….Thats what the sex industry is designed to fill the need for…enjoy it. I’ts only money, and costs a whole lot less than marriage/children/divorce/financial ruin…..



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