High! How are YOU?Submitted by DaBeast at 2010-11-02 18:50:57 EDT
Rating: 1.56 on 11 ratings (11 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
I hate it when someone doesn't hit the ENTER key after finishing a response and before hitting "Rank". That annoys the shit outta me. I don't know why. Makes the back of my neck itch. Stop that shit.
The best drink in the world is Southern Iced Tea. I likes it sweet, darlin'.
Women need to play more video games and drink more beer. Ok, the opera is grand and dinner's expensive and if you drag me to one more Meg Ryan film, I am going to slit my own throat, and ya-da ya-da ya-da - kick back, chick and quit being so damned intense alla time. Sometimes, it's like the clock is wound just a little too tight. I mean DA-YUMN.
The whole politically correct nonsense needs to be outlawed. I'm tired of watching people tap dance around what's really in their heads. If you're going to post it under the title "Reality TV", then, by gawd, I wanna hear people screaming "FUCKBISCUITS!" when they accidentally drop hammers on their toes or drunkenly run their cars up trees or trip on the cat in the middle of the night and land face first in the bathtub. That's reality tv. This glamour shit don't get it. This ain't Wisteria Lane (I'm gagging madly because I can even make that reference correctly and it's your fault, you bitch!) it's Leroy Avenue and I will personally stomp a mud hole in your ass if you don't get the fuck off of it.
STOP WALKING AWAY WHEN I'M FUCKING TALKING TO YOU! That's irritating.
I wish Marilyn Monroe had chosen pot as her fave illegal substance and, at the same time, I'm kinda glad that she didn't. If Mary Jane had been her preference, she'd prolly still be alive today... but the munchies woulda made her fat. Can't win for losing.
I saw a Marine today in a purty little red pickup truck. He had "Semper Fidelis!" on a bumper sticker on his back window, he had the logos, and he had enough radio antennae to choke a grizzly - in short, there were many manly things about that pickup truck. Except how clean, how spotless, how very pristine it was (the driver matched it, in a fashion, in his carefully pressed chinos and his well ironed button down shirt)... and I don't care how manly that truck was 'cause I'm sure that dude was ultra-ghey.
I used to want to learn just enough ventriloquism to enable me to yell "Fuck you!" at mom while she was making dinner yet the sound would appear to originate in the oven. I bet she woulda shot that oven. Twice.
My knees hurt and I know it'll rain. I hate getting old.
And that's all for this installment.