I used to weigh 285. Now I weigh 228. I bought a Steve Largent jersey a few years ago when I was still that fat. I wore that jersey to work today and it's now long enough to cover my butt. I say all of this because I just got done pooping. Ladies, wearing a skirt when pooping has to be the most annoying thing ever, and you have my fullest sympathies.
Is it a contest right now in the South on which police department can take the biggest piss on on the Bill Of Rights? Where are these giant chips on shoulders coming from? Why are police making innocent people their bitch?
I just posted in the R&R thread, but I was fired from my job today. 5:30 on a Friday. The actual point of this story is that I came home super excited to drink and I had this stuff: And its not that good, I don't drink coffee either so I'm not going to mix it with that. What's worse is too fucking cold to go outside to buy more booze.
You just got fired, I can't believe you're going to spend this night sober. If I were you, and I have been in this situation in the past, I'd get out there and get some beer and drink so much you forget getting fired.
Well that'd make sense if I was actually upset about it. I was looking for a new job anyway, this makes it easier. I also get to go visit the gf for a full week. I'll probably get shitty tomorrow night. Or tomorrow during the day.
Wonderful. As if my life weren't fucked enough at the moment... My cousin's kid that I mentioned before was sent away for 6 months. Now he's petitioning the court to give him home detention so he can take care of his grandma (My aunt.) In the two months he lived here his "Helping with grandma" included: Fighting in the street with the neighbors Beating up his girlfriend in the house Keeping hours like a fucking vampire. He's get out of bed at about 8pm and roll back in at 9 in the morning. The phone would routinely ring at midnight with someone asking for him. I'd yell at them for calling so late. Getting arrested for assault and theft. I had to break into his room after he was sentenced because we needed to get into the room he'd locked. There were numerous bongs and torches in the room. I'm pretty sure he was fencing stolen shit. He kept asking me if I wanted to buy brand new high end tools still in the box. He said he was "Selling them for a friend." Starting a war with the neighboring drug dealers who want to kill him. Literally want him dead. I can't take much more of this shit.
I know this was supposed to piss me off, but it doesn't. I still defend doing that. Toytoy, time for you to take an immediate vacation after things with your sister and niece/nephew settle down. I can't imagine a more stressful life outside of being in a warzone. Maybe a nice trip somewhere boring and relaxing like the Bahamas is in order. Possibly somewhere with unlimited booze.
So, you know when you go to someone's house and their bookcase is filled with Voltaire and Rousseau and Dumas? Well, the last thing you'd expect is for them to fire up youtube and start playing videos of some Russian guy doing the helicopter dick. Like, actually, the last thing you'd expect.
I'm pretty sure karma is just fucking with me now. The fact that I still have something resembling a sense of humor is quite amazing.
At first I was like "Who the fuck takes a shit, takes a picture of it and sends it to a friend?" Then I was like "Oh, me and my three friends 2 years ago." That and fake dick pics, using thumbs, fingers, and lotion. Don't fucking ask me why, I can't defend the dumb shit.
Right? To this day I still get random turds sent to my phone from someone half the world away. Always great to open that message when I'm in public.
Quick question for the gents - would you rather be woken up and then given a blowjob, or woken up by being given a blowjob?
I've worked in a military environment my whole adult life, so yeah, that kind of thing is pretty standard. You can generally tell someone has found "the one" when you know they're seeing someone but they don't talk about the freaky bedroom stuff. Explain your crazy Aussie slang. What is a dropkick in this context? Fucking bravo, sir. *slow clap* Garlic capital of the world, I believe is their town motto. That's gotta burn a hoo-ha pretty good. Option B is one of the greatest pleasures a man can know.