You know what I want to bitch about? I want to bitch about losing an hour of sleep tomorrow. Fuck that. Lets bitch about what I want to bitch about!
This girl reminds me of all the girls that annoyed the fuck out of me and should have been hate fucked in college. This one just has a purple feather in her hair, so I just tossed her in.
That was serious fucking business. If you question the justice of our wrath again I will drown you in my Timmy's double double.
Got in a customers car the other day and this song was on: (had to Shazam it to find out what it was) It raises so many questions for me. 1) Are they really that far behind that a hooded flannel is "cool"? 2) Is he that countries version of Justin Timberlake, Adam Levine, Bruno Mars etc? 3) What the hell dance is he doing on the steam engine? 4) Is she teasing him with some ankle at 1:11? 5) How is a dance that easy looking still too complicated for my white, uncoordinated ass?
Here's what annoys me about the weather in the Northeast: The forecast. Jesus fuckin' Christ. For four days, I heard nothing except 'Oh my GOD SNOW STORM WEDNESDAY NIGHT!' We got zero snow. Last night: Oh some snow showers. An inch of snow. I plan on moving south in the next couple of years because of the weather. And weather forecasts.
No shit. Lighting it the fuck UP. Of course, if the season is a complete success everybody will hold it against you guys because it's a "tainted" season. I'm shocked Chicago didn't threepeat with their line-up. I myself was not broken up about the hockey strike so much because a) It's old news for hockey players to strike and b) our local junior team is the country's best, getting over 9000 people per game. We're the fans who throw bananas at black NHL players, remember? Our city hosts the World Figure Skating Championship in a few days and every 67 year old around here has lost their collective shit. BIG. FUCKING. DEAL. The taxpayer money they blow on dipshit international stage incidents around here is embarrassing. Like when the Queen visited my GOD her entrance was positively Christ-like because the winners from a lucky sperm contest are suck goddamn important human beings. Edit: Post 6000. Scoreboard.
The last time I heard/read the names "Raja" and "Rani," it was when I was in the 4th grade, reading Edgar Rice Burroughs' Pellucidar series. (He gave those names to some giant wild cats.) Anyway, here's this: NSFW
1500. Jesus Crown, you need a hobby. It occurs to me that Easter Monday and April Fools Day fall on the same day this year. There are a plethora of "J/K! Still dead!" jokes that could (but won't) be made at church. So much wasted potential.
3) A sexy one. Gentlemen, take notes. 5) I have no idea what you look like, but imagining you trying to do any of the dances in that video tickles me pink.
Yes, I too would like to hear about your vagina. This seems like a perfectly creepy time to make my first post in several months.
I'm not a huge vodka fan but Greyhound with Goose using fresh squeezed grapefruit juice is pretty damn good.
Haha, so I'm a pirate that refers to her vagina as her pink? "Yarr, I couldn't find someone at the port so I had to tickle me pink."
Only a few behind Nett now. Soon the Free Time Trophy will be mine. The little guy posing on it is indifferently shrugging.
So, we can't bitch about the weather where we live, because if we keep living there, we should be used to it . . . got it. So, can I bitch about the weather that is not where I live, but where I'm headed? Because, my travel plans are fuuuuuuuuuuuukt for tomorrow. Dammit. That reminds me of a story . . . I lived in Vail Colorado for a while, when I took some time off school. I didn't have a car out there, but I didn't really need one. So, I worked two jobs while I was out there, and these girls at the one job invited me to a party at their place. When I was done closing up at the other job at about 1:00 am, I hitched a ride to their place. (That was almost 25 years ago - I don't know who was dumber. Me for hitchhiking at the entrance to the interstate, or the dude that picked me up . . .) Anyway, they live in a house in Edwards, which is 20 minutes away or so. It's snowing like a mother, I had taken my contacts, but it didn't really matter that I couldn't see well, since I wasn't driving. I walk into the house, and just about everybody there is drunk or passed out. One of the girls that invited me sees me, and makes a bee line for me. I'm thinking, awwwww yeah. "I'm so glad you're here!" she says. Yeah, you are. "Here, take my keys, we're going to get food." So, I drive these two girls and myself up to a diner. No contacts, driving snowstorm, in a manual transmission Le Car with one working (barely) wiper and a leaky cloth sunroof. And, the dumb hick from Georgia is driving. Good times. I had a blast and did not put it in a ditch or get stuck.
"Did not jump her bones" "Did not knock boots" "Did not park the pink Cadillac" "Did not play Tummy Sticks"
This drink I concocted is pretty tasty. It's sweet red wine with peach schnapps and orange juice. For now, I'm calling it "Get Blasted" but I'm sure I will think of something else clever after I fully taste all the facets of this beverage. It might take 3 or 4, but just you wait.