Monday, July 7, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
I've got a fever, and the only perscription is....
No. Not cowbell dumbass. Video games. Yes it is true, I have fallen victim to the only thing that would keep a man single longer than AIDS. And while I enjoy placing my nuts on the chin of little pre-pubes everywhere while telling them how good their mom is in bed, I can't help but think that the video game industry is missing something. Here are a few of my ideas for new games that are sure to keep us all masturbating in our basements to Laura Croft just a little longer:
Rap Group- Riding the heels of Rock Band this game puts you as the main hip hop mogul in your own group. It comes with a mic but no drums or guitar, instead being replaced by a book of food stamps and a Duck Hunt Gun. You shoot at Hos and Haters trying to get at your game as you flow through such classic hits as "Fuck the Police," "Do the Bartman," and the ever popular "George Bush Hates Black People" by Kanye West. Criminal record not included, rated G for Gangsta.
IRS Games presents Stimulus Package 2008- Very similar to the SIMS. Object is to raise your family and if you are successful the game rewards you with 600 points at the end and 300 more for each kid still alive. Only catch is every mother fucker get 300 points no matter what and when you select help on the main menu to find out what the fuck you did wrong you just go to a loading screen that freezes your XBOX. Game over bitches.
Lindsey Lohan's Prodater 2- Navigate the streets of LA giving blowjobs to homeless men for beers to increase your health. Then spread the diseases you have acquired to every C-list male actor you come across. Final Boss battle is an epic fight between Lindsey and Left Behind star Kirk Cameron. Give him Herpes and you win the game, and the hearts of America.
Grand Theft OJ- Starts off like Madden 08, then kill your wife and navigate your White Bronco through the streets to escape the cops. Doesn't matter what you do the cops always run into each other and you win every time. Finishes with a demo of Tiger Woods Golf with OJ as the only playable character. Limited Edition comes with a bonus Nintendo Power Glove, but gets recalled shortly thereafter because it never seems to fit anyone.
Rap Group- Riding the heels of Rock Band this game puts you as the main hip hop mogul in your own group. It comes with a mic but no drums or guitar, instead being replaced by a book of food stamps and a Duck Hunt Gun. You shoot at Hos and Haters trying to get at your game as you flow through such classic hits as "Fuck the Police," "Do the Bartman," and the ever popular "George Bush Hates Black People" by Kanye West. Criminal record not included, rated G for Gangsta.
IRS Games presents Stimulus Package 2008- Very similar to the SIMS. Object is to raise your family and if you are successful the game rewards you with 600 points at the end and 300 more for each kid still alive. Only catch is every mother fucker get 300 points no matter what and when you select help on the main menu to find out what the fuck you did wrong you just go to a loading screen that freezes your XBOX. Game over bitches.
Lindsey Lohan's Prodater 2- Navigate the streets of LA giving blowjobs to homeless men for beers to increase your health. Then spread the diseases you have acquired to every C-list male actor you come across. Final Boss battle is an epic fight between Lindsey and Left Behind star Kirk Cameron. Give him Herpes and you win the game, and the hearts of America.
Grand Theft OJ- Starts off like Madden 08, then kill your wife and navigate your White Bronco through the streets to escape the cops. Doesn't matter what you do the cops always run into each other and you win every time. Finishes with a demo of Tiger Woods Golf with OJ as the only playable character. Limited Edition comes with a bonus Nintendo Power Glove, but gets recalled shortly thereafter because it never seems to fit anyone.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Back In the Saddle Again. I'm Back! duh duh-duh duh duh
It has been almost one year since the last time I have posted, so to celebrate my absence I have decided to be unabsent. I won't go into details about my hiatus but let's just say that at some point midgets, balloons and a curious spider monkey smelling of mojitos were involved. Bad news: the spider monkey went to the tree top in the sky. Good news: I saved a ton of money on my car insurance. Really good news: I will now be blessing everyone with a minimum of one post a day for all eternity, or until The Golden Girls gets the call for new episodes due to inceased DVD sales by me. Without further ado, I would like to talk about something that has been giving me the stiff zipper for a while now: Brooke Hogan (The Hulksters smokin' daughter)
I am strongly against incest, however, I can honestly say that if I were the Hulkster, I would run Hulkamania on my daughter. I have already mapped out 10 things to say to my daughter if by some chance she turns out to look like Brooke.
1. Santa told me he would prefer you naughty this year.
2. They said the part to fix the bathroom lock is on backorder.
3. Did you just sneeze? Better check for cervical cancer.
4. The dryer caught fire and burned all your panties.
5. That's not a camera hunny, its the new design for 2000 flushes.
6. I guess I should read the lable on the pool cleaner better, too much DOES disolve garnments.
7. If you want a Pony you'll do it.
8. Sounds like a tornado! Everyone into my bed.
9. Just lay still, this memory will stay supressed until you're 40.
10. Don't tell mommy this, but I am not your real father.
I can't imagine the self restraint that it must take to be Hulk Hogan. I would put money down that at some point he has suggested a slumber party just to pay off a friend of hers to ask if she would ever do her dad in truth or dare. Then, being the Hulkster, if she said no he would tear down the tent and put the girl in a sleeper hold until he got his money back and some of hers. In fact, I have become so inspired by Hulk Hogan that while I am writing this I have an IV running steroids directly into a vein on my ballsack so that I too can be a Hulkamaniac. I can picture it now....
I am strongly against incest, however, I can honestly say that if I were the Hulkster, I would run Hulkamania on my daughter. I have already mapped out 10 things to say to my daughter if by some chance she turns out to look like Brooke.
1. Santa told me he would prefer you naughty this year.
2. They said the part to fix the bathroom lock is on backorder.
3. Did you just sneeze? Better check for cervical cancer.
4. The dryer caught fire and burned all your panties.
5. That's not a camera hunny, its the new design for 2000 flushes.
6. I guess I should read the lable on the pool cleaner better, too much DOES disolve garnments.
7. If you want a Pony you'll do it.
8. Sounds like a tornado! Everyone into my bed.
9. Just lay still, this memory will stay supressed until you're 40.
10. Don't tell mommy this, but I am not your real father.
I can't imagine the self restraint that it must take to be Hulk Hogan. I would put money down that at some point he has suggested a slumber party just to pay off a friend of hers to ask if she would ever do her dad in truth or dare. Then, being the Hulkster, if she said no he would tear down the tent and put the girl in a sleeper hold until he got his money back and some of hers. In fact, I have become so inspired by Hulk Hogan that while I am writing this I have an IV running steroids directly into a vein on my ballsack so that I too can be a Hulkamaniac. I can picture it now....
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Excuse me. Do you know where I can find the weight room?
I started to write a post about how life is not working out for me right now and how I wish I had someone with me to share my happy times with but then I thought, fuck it. Life is too short to dwell on shit. So here is some fucking funny shit off the top of my head as usual. Inspired by the fact that I have been working out so much lately that I am typing this with my pecks.
Often people ask me, "How the hell do you get so ripped? You must be injecting steroids directly into the vein under your ballsack." Truth be told, I used to juice heavily until Barry Bonds started doing it and made it "mainstream." What next Barry? You want to ruin Heroin for the rest of us too? Jesus. Well with Barry spoiling my party I decided to take it back to the old school and get jacked using a good ol' fashion workout. Here is a small sample of my routine:
1. Always start the day off with a glass of Tyrannosaurs egg yolk and rhinoceros semen. Oh and an english muffin too, for carbs.
2. I then bike to the gym for a warm-up. It will really help get you heart rate up if your tires are triangular like mine. And you pedal with your arms. Backwards.
3. Upon getting to the gym I like to start out with a thousand push-ups. One hundred on each finger should do.
4. Another good warm-up that I do is pull-downs. Yeah you read that right, not pull-ups. Pull-downs. I snatch 757's out of the sky. Great for your obliques.
5. Now I get into the real workout. Doing a bench press with full weights and two Asian kids on each side holding more weights is a typical max out for me. Don't worry, its not slave labor. They are compensated for their time with fortune cookies and jars of mayonnaise. No! Not the squeezable! Are you out of your mind? Those are like 3.00 each.
6. After that I don't really work out much more. I usually just do one squat with 800 lbs. on each end. Get pissed as fuck and kick over a tower of weights and walk out. The chicks love it and the guys are too busy looking at themselves to care.
7. Tuesdays is Jazzercise. No ass this smooth can sculpt itself without the help of Gloria Estefan's "Turn the Beat Around."
And the key here is to remember the post game. Always follow each workout with a thigh of a bald eagle and a cup of the blood of a gorilla. Neither have any nutritional value whatsoever, but they make you look like one badass mother fucker on the news when the cops finally bust you for your steroid operation.
Often people ask me, "How the hell do you get so ripped? You must be injecting steroids directly into the vein under your ballsack." Truth be told, I used to juice heavily until Barry Bonds started doing it and made it "mainstream." What next Barry? You want to ruin Heroin for the rest of us too? Jesus. Well with Barry spoiling my party I decided to take it back to the old school and get jacked using a good ol' fashion workout. Here is a small sample of my routine:
1. Always start the day off with a glass of Tyrannosaurs egg yolk and rhinoceros semen. Oh and an english muffin too, for carbs.
2. I then bike to the gym for a warm-up. It will really help get you heart rate up if your tires are triangular like mine. And you pedal with your arms. Backwards.
3. Upon getting to the gym I like to start out with a thousand push-ups. One hundred on each finger should do.
4. Another good warm-up that I do is pull-downs. Yeah you read that right, not pull-ups. Pull-downs. I snatch 757's out of the sky. Great for your obliques.
5. Now I get into the real workout. Doing a bench press with full weights and two Asian kids on each side holding more weights is a typical max out for me. Don't worry, its not slave labor. They are compensated for their time with fortune cookies and jars of mayonnaise. No! Not the squeezable! Are you out of your mind? Those are like 3.00 each.
6. After that I don't really work out much more. I usually just do one squat with 800 lbs. on each end. Get pissed as fuck and kick over a tower of weights and walk out. The chicks love it and the guys are too busy looking at themselves to care.
7. Tuesdays is Jazzercise. No ass this smooth can sculpt itself without the help of Gloria Estefan's "Turn the Beat Around."
And the key here is to remember the post game. Always follow each workout with a thigh of a bald eagle and a cup of the blood of a gorilla. Neither have any nutritional value whatsoever, but they make you look like one badass mother fucker on the news when the cops finally bust you for your steroid operation.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Im coming out of my cave.
Well it seems that Osama Bin Laden has came out of hiding to produce another video tape, therefore I am coming out of hiding to produce another blog. He blew apart two of our tallest buildings... I can make my wrist pop when I hold it at a weird angle... I'd say that makes us about even. So why the sudden coming out of hiding? Well I decided that it was time to appease the masses and also to let off some steam.
As I sat watching the evening news this...well...evening, I grew more and more angry with ever passing moment. Why the fuck haven't we caught this guy? Where the hell is our intelligence. The cop at Target could have beat Bin Laden's ass by now and made it back just in time to bust me for stealing phone cards. According to my super secret inside source on military and CIA happenings, we shall call him "Future Weapons," we have the capability to read the footnotes on a damn bible from a satellite. So... we can't find a few people going in and out of some caves in Afghanistan? Well, in all truth, we can and we probably did. But we won't. Why won't we find Bin Laden? Is he some super secret sleuth that moves like a cat in and out of dark shadows to the pink panther theme song? No. He is Osama Bin Laden. That is why. In the public eye we don't see a mass group of terrorists. We see one. Osama. And if he dies we think terrorism dies. Just like we don't see a shit for brains group of politicians in the White House. We see one. And when he goes we believe so will improve the government. With Bin Laden dead, so will decrease military spending, anti-terrorism groups, and remodel a defunct Homeland Security. Bin Laden still lives because we have a pretty little scale of colors that tell us how scared we should be and without Bin Laden there is no need for those colors and then Kinkos stock plummets sending us into a deep depression. Ok well maybe not that last part. The man has no power except to scare people, and scared people vote to spend money to be unscared. For Christ's sake: he did the video on vhs. What the hell kind of genius terrorists mastermind still uses that shit? Is his next move to send out a computer virus to hack in and fuck with our Wolfenstein save games? Unless we get a blu ray from him in the next year, he is a lame duck.
Another reason Bin Laden still exists? Simple. Bin Laden who? We are a country of immediate satisfaction. You could say we are a kind of U.S.A.D.D. If that shit doesn't get solved soon then we move the hell on. I call it my "dial-up porn" theory. My penis is used to high speed downloading of quality porn. If I one day gave it dial-up porn then it would jump out of my pants and smack me in the face. Then it would search out that scooby doo lunchbox. The one where Thelma kind of looks hot because she has the "oooo I'm scared and being slightly sexually suggestive at the same time" look. To put this into perspective, if we had caught Bin Laden and hung his ass on September 13, 2001 then you can bet your ass that would have been a national holiday. We would be out grilling hot dogs and throwing frisbees to the sweet sound of vengeance. If we caught him today and hung his ass then you can rest assured you would get one of those scrolling messages at the bottom of the screen followed by, "Watch So You Think You Can Dance this Tuesday at 8pm." Anyone see that North Korea agreed to remove their nuclear capabilities? No? Exactly, thats because Alberto Gonzales stepped down from his position as Attorney General. And since one story was newer than the other, the media, I mean you, never cared about the first one. We are a country of short attention spans and low patience. Neither of which help us in our search.
The final reason Bin Laden is still at large and forever will be? The cancellation of America's Most Wanted. How the fuck are we supposed to know who to look for without John Walsh telling us? Bin Laden could be living next door to you but unless you have seen someone who looks nothing like him acting out over exaggerated scenes on Americas Most Wanted, how the hell would you know? We are all doomed I tell you. Doomed!!!!
As I sat watching the evening news this...well...evening, I grew more and more angry with ever passing moment. Why the fuck haven't we caught this guy? Where the hell is our intelligence. The cop at Target could have beat Bin Laden's ass by now and made it back just in time to bust me for stealing phone cards. According to my super secret inside source on military and CIA happenings, we shall call him "Future Weapons," we have the capability to read the footnotes on a damn bible from a satellite. So... we can't find a few people going in and out of some caves in Afghanistan? Well, in all truth, we can and we probably did. But we won't. Why won't we find Bin Laden? Is he some super secret sleuth that moves like a cat in and out of dark shadows to the pink panther theme song? No. He is Osama Bin Laden. That is why. In the public eye we don't see a mass group of terrorists. We see one. Osama. And if he dies we think terrorism dies. Just like we don't see a shit for brains group of politicians in the White House. We see one. And when he goes we believe so will improve the government. With Bin Laden dead, so will decrease military spending, anti-terrorism groups, and remodel a defunct Homeland Security. Bin Laden still lives because we have a pretty little scale of colors that tell us how scared we should be and without Bin Laden there is no need for those colors and then Kinkos stock plummets sending us into a deep depression. Ok well maybe not that last part. The man has no power except to scare people, and scared people vote to spend money to be unscared. For Christ's sake: he did the video on vhs. What the hell kind of genius terrorists mastermind still uses that shit? Is his next move to send out a computer virus to hack in and fuck with our Wolfenstein save games? Unless we get a blu ray from him in the next year, he is a lame duck.
Another reason Bin Laden still exists? Simple. Bin Laden who? We are a country of immediate satisfaction. You could say we are a kind of U.S.A.D.D. If that shit doesn't get solved soon then we move the hell on. I call it my "dial-up porn" theory. My penis is used to high speed downloading of quality porn. If I one day gave it dial-up porn then it would jump out of my pants and smack me in the face. Then it would search out that scooby doo lunchbox. The one where Thelma kind of looks hot because she has the "oooo I'm scared and being slightly sexually suggestive at the same time" look. To put this into perspective, if we had caught Bin Laden and hung his ass on September 13, 2001 then you can bet your ass that would have been a national holiday. We would be out grilling hot dogs and throwing frisbees to the sweet sound of vengeance. If we caught him today and hung his ass then you can rest assured you would get one of those scrolling messages at the bottom of the screen followed by, "Watch So You Think You Can Dance this Tuesday at 8pm." Anyone see that North Korea agreed to remove their nuclear capabilities? No? Exactly, thats because Alberto Gonzales stepped down from his position as Attorney General. And since one story was newer than the other, the media, I mean you, never cared about the first one. We are a country of short attention spans and low patience. Neither of which help us in our search.
The final reason Bin Laden is still at large and forever will be? The cancellation of America's Most Wanted. How the fuck are we supposed to know who to look for without John Walsh telling us? Bin Laden could be living next door to you but unless you have seen someone who looks nothing like him acting out over exaggerated scenes on Americas Most Wanted, how the hell would you know? We are all doomed I tell you. Doomed!!!!
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
SWM looking for someone with a big heart. Or a pulse. That works.
Girls are really starting to toot my horn. Sorry for the foul language, but as you can tell I'm getting pretty fricking tired of searching for soulmate. I think that is my problem. I am actively looking. They say that if you wait then your true love will come to you. Well how many god damn bus stops does a guy have to sit at until fate intervenes? I'm starting to think it is a lost cause. I know what you are thinking. "Dude, you're 22, so incredibly sexy that you could be a new species, and you have a kick ass house that even Master P would be amazed at the patio furniture." Well, while all of that is correct.. it seems I have some things standing in my way. For starters I am pretty tall. To some women that is a turn on. To the rest, the often see me and then think of Jack and the Beanstalk and assume I will eat any kids we have.
I asked a close friend what I should do and he told me to lose the velvet paintings of me and Prince naked riding white tigers through flaming hoops that surround my bed in a sequential, climatic fashion. I said to that friend, "Friend, any chick that doesn't bleed purple rain is no chick of mine." And then I punched him in that tender spot behind his ears for even suggesting such a travesty. With my friends batting .000 and it obvious that my 17 inch penis was not the problem, I decided to resort to one last resource. You know it as match.com, to many it is known as "that place where you don't have to tell them you have AIDS" and common testimonials include "the woods are a hard place to say no when they realize my default was some spanish actor named Hernando." So here goes something:
for fun:
Well its hard to say. Between episodes of Boy Meets World and Saved by the Bell I like to look for images of the virgin mary in common household foods and play minesweeper while listening to my Billy Ocean Greatest Hits CD.
my job:
I don't have one. I make a living giving blow jobs to successful businessmen that don't have time for their wives and then scamming women who no longer feel beautiful because their businessman husband is too busy getting blowjobs from strangers. Ha ha ha. Just kidding. I teach.
my ethnicity:
It is often disputed because of the extremely large size of my penis. I'm guessing I'm a mix of caucasian and Zebra.
my religion:
Christian. Although Ive often wondered if I myself was carved from Mount Olympus as every girl I have been with has always described me as a God of sorts.
my education:
four year degree. Graduated with honors. Didn't have honors grades but the dean said I was too fucking sexy not to have one of those gold ropes around my neck.
favorite hot spots:
Everywhere I go is a hotspot. No. Seriously. I live in Florida. Its 108 in the shade. I went to check the mail yesterday without shoes and when I got back to the house I looked like Lieutenant Dan.
favorite things:
I once spent an entire day making a diorama of every scene from Tommy Boy using only pop tarts and pumpkin seeds.
last read:
The tag on my shirt. Who the hell tumble drys shit? Is that even a setting on my dryer?
About Me:
I just realized I am to cool and mysterious to put anything actually about me so I will just put the lyrics to Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins from the Top Gun Soundtrack.
Revvin' up your engine
Listen to her howlin' roar
Metal under tension
Beggin' you to touch and go
Highway to the Danger Zone
Ride into the Danger Zone
Headin' into twilight
Spreadin' out her wings tonight
She got you jumpin' off the track
And shovin' into overdrive
Highway to the Danger Zone
I'll take you
Right into the Danger Zone
You'll never say hello to you
Until you get it on the red line overload
You'll never know what you can do
Until you get it up as high as you can go
Out along the edges
Always where I burn to be
The further on the edge
The hotter the intensity
Highway to the Danger Zone
Gonna take you
Right into the Danger Zone
Highway to the Danger Zone
I asked a close friend what I should do and he told me to lose the velvet paintings of me and Prince naked riding white tigers through flaming hoops that surround my bed in a sequential, climatic fashion. I said to that friend, "Friend, any chick that doesn't bleed purple rain is no chick of mine." And then I punched him in that tender spot behind his ears for even suggesting such a travesty. With my friends batting .000 and it obvious that my 17 inch penis was not the problem, I decided to resort to one last resource. You know it as match.com, to many it is known as "that place where you don't have to tell them you have AIDS" and common testimonials include "the woods are a hard place to say no when they realize my default was some spanish actor named Hernando." So here goes something:
for fun:
Well its hard to say. Between episodes of Boy Meets World and Saved by the Bell I like to look for images of the virgin mary in common household foods and play minesweeper while listening to my Billy Ocean Greatest Hits CD.
my job:
I don't have one. I make a living giving blow jobs to successful businessmen that don't have time for their wives and then scamming women who no longer feel beautiful because their businessman husband is too busy getting blowjobs from strangers. Ha ha ha. Just kidding. I teach.
my ethnicity:
It is often disputed because of the extremely large size of my penis. I'm guessing I'm a mix of caucasian and Zebra.
my religion:
Christian. Although Ive often wondered if I myself was carved from Mount Olympus as every girl I have been with has always described me as a God of sorts.
my education:
four year degree. Graduated with honors. Didn't have honors grades but the dean said I was too fucking sexy not to have one of those gold ropes around my neck.
favorite hot spots:
Everywhere I go is a hotspot. No. Seriously. I live in Florida. Its 108 in the shade. I went to check the mail yesterday without shoes and when I got back to the house I looked like Lieutenant Dan.
favorite things:
I once spent an entire day making a diorama of every scene from Tommy Boy using only pop tarts and pumpkin seeds.
last read:
The tag on my shirt. Who the hell tumble drys shit? Is that even a setting on my dryer?
About Me:
I just realized I am to cool and mysterious to put anything actually about me so I will just put the lyrics to Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins from the Top Gun Soundtrack.
Revvin' up your engine
Listen to her howlin' roar
Metal under tension
Beggin' you to touch and go
Highway to the Danger Zone
Ride into the Danger Zone
Headin' into twilight
Spreadin' out her wings tonight
She got you jumpin' off the track
And shovin' into overdrive
Highway to the Danger Zone
I'll take you
Right into the Danger Zone
You'll never say hello to you
Until you get it on the red line overload
You'll never know what you can do
Until you get it up as high as you can go
Out along the edges
Always where I burn to be
The further on the edge
The hotter the intensity
Highway to the Danger Zone
Gonna take you
Right into the Danger Zone
Highway to the Danger Zone
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Guest Post
Just did another guest post over at The Daily Fuzz Go check it out.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Couldn't pass this up...
Im Baaaack. And this time I'm available in 2%
Well after a short hiatus where I spent endless nights sleeping with Egyptian women named Cleo and getting kicks off beating a blind man in darts, I'm back. But no seriously truth be told I just spent the last two weeks hunting down some guy named Al for forcing a shitload of people from their home by starting forest fires before realizing that the news lied to me and they need to change the abbreviation for Alabama. Time well spent indeed. Other than that I don't have anything to brag about.
So the other day I went into Arbys to enjoy some of their beefy goodness. Upon walking through the door I was hit with a face full of ass. I felt as though I had taken the place of Barney the purple dinosaur on his throne in hell. They had fans all over the place but continued to serve despite nothing frosty coming out of the air vents. As I'm reading the sign to try and make it look like I was trying to remember a colleagues order when in actuality the seven arby's melts I was about to order were for me, a man walks in about his mid 40's. He gets that same look on his face I did when I walked in; the one that looks like you just got that cramp between your balls and anus and don't know how to stretch it out. So this gentleman walks up to the register and says, "Wow, its hot. Is your air broke?" Immediately I wanted to give this person a medal for being dumber than a frisbee. So, being the kind gentleman that I am I chimed in, "No Thomas Paine, Its the new company energy policy, 96 degrees is the new 70." The guy then got pissed and walked out. Most likely to go to the book store and ask questions like, "Do you carry non-fiction?", or to K-Mart and ask, "Are their any STD's in your bathroom?." Common sense folks. Common sense.
Well I have to go. But this time I promise to be back. No photoshop today but this video making fun of Dane Cook goes out to a home-girl of mine at Carrabbas. *full house pose*
So the other day I went into Arbys to enjoy some of their beefy goodness. Upon walking through the door I was hit with a face full of ass. I felt as though I had taken the place of Barney the purple dinosaur on his throne in hell. They had fans all over the place but continued to serve despite nothing frosty coming out of the air vents. As I'm reading the sign to try and make it look like I was trying to remember a colleagues order when in actuality the seven arby's melts I was about to order were for me, a man walks in about his mid 40's. He gets that same look on his face I did when I walked in; the one that looks like you just got that cramp between your balls and anus and don't know how to stretch it out. So this gentleman walks up to the register and says, "Wow, its hot. Is your air broke?" Immediately I wanted to give this person a medal for being dumber than a frisbee. So, being the kind gentleman that I am I chimed in, "No Thomas Paine, Its the new company energy policy, 96 degrees is the new 70." The guy then got pissed and walked out. Most likely to go to the book store and ask questions like, "Do you carry non-fiction?", or to K-Mart and ask, "Are their any STD's in your bathroom?." Common sense folks. Common sense.
Well I have to go. But this time I promise to be back. No photoshop today but this video making fun of Dane Cook goes out to a home-girl of mine at Carrabbas. *full house pose*
Thanks for the award Meleah!!!
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Last posts
- The greatest debate of all time is finally solved....
- I've got a fever, and the only perscription is.......
- Back In the Saddle Again. I'm Back! duh duh-duh du...
- Excuse me. Do you know where I can find the weight...
- Im coming out of my cave.
- On the softer side....
- SWM looking for someone with a big heart. Or a pul...
- Guest Post
- Couldn't pass this up...
- Im Baaaack. And this time I'm available in 2%