It was a nice change of pace to have a draw Muhammed contest at the park where I take my dogs, I know you like your free speech but stop fucking my shit up.
I'm not posting pictures of my boobs on the internet sober on a Saturday afternoon. Get back to me later and maybe we can renegotiate. Also, cans and cylindrical things, no problem. Glasses that taper at the bottom? Really difficult. Also would recommend against things straight out of the fridge, partially because uncomfortable, and partially because condensation. Now go forth and convince other girls to make questionable life choices!
Just had my first haircut in 20 years. I started shaving my head in '95 and about 6 months ago decided to let my hair grow because why not? It was surprisingly gray and nowhere near a nice as it was when I was younger. Not to mention receded a bit. Either that or my forehead is proceeding. One or the other. Now I drink.
Me too. Gettin' high on paint fumes (what's that smell? PROGRESS BITCHES) and drinking my light beer, because I'm a woman, that's why. I have to poop but the painters are still here.
One of the baseball cards I bought today was a guy named Vic Power. Tell me that isn't an awesome baseball name. Or comic book hero. If you've never studied baseball history, you've never heard of Vic Power. He was something else. He was the first Puerto Rican to play in the American League. He was an incredibly flashy fielder and a solid hitter. He was originally signed by the Yankees, but was shipped off to the A's because he didn't fit the Yankee mold. He was flamboyant, liked convertible Cadillacs. And white girls. Oops. Probably his most famous line was when he went in to a whites-only restaurant while playing for Syracuse. When the waitress told him that they didn't serve Negroes, he told her not to worry, he didn't eat Negroes. The best part of his story? His incredibly masculine name "Vic Power" wasn't his real name. His real name was Vic Pellot. He changed his name when he played in Canada because Pellot pretty much means Pussy in French and folks were laughing at him. EDIT: This version of the story sounds much funnier then mine: When Vic Power went into a restaurant in Little Rock, Arkansas in the early 1950s, a waitress promptly told him, "We don't serve Negroes." "That's okay," Power answered, "I don't eat Negroes. I want rice and beans." EDIT DUEX: An awesome article on Power and the racism in baseball and America in the 50's: http://bronxbanter.baseballtoaster.com/archives/294050.html
Holy crap is it hot out. Thankfully we got a bit of a thunderstorm for about 10 minutes to cool down a bit (suck it Texas), but still... it's fucking hot. Did a fair bit of yard work today and after hours of toiling in the hot sun I realize that there's a shit-load more work left to get done. Most of the day consisted of raking big pine needles. Not fun. But at least things look a bit better than they did before I started. The upside is that I'm now 5 beers and a ton of local cider into a BBQ and the AC is working well so I can pass out on the couch in refreshing coolness later.
Cry me a river. It was 102 here today and they're calling for 104 tomorrow. After that a "Cold" front comes in and we might only see a high of 90 on Friday. God I despise this place.
You just wrote a sentence that has the words "Fucking", "Sled dogs" and "How hard it is" without directly referencing fucking sled dogs. You were one Mountie away from a great stereotype. For future reference: I looked out my window and a Mountie is fucking my favorite sled dog. How hard it is not to join in. Maybe he'll let me wear his hat if I do. BRB.
Motherfuck. I painted the railings on my stoop today and thought I covered enough of it with newspaper to prevent any overspray from getting on it. Now I've got spray paint all over it and it looks worse than before. I hope the power stripper I have works on concrete like it says on the can.
My bartender friend invented a "shooter", served in a pint glass, called Helen Keller. It's half a tall can of Strongbow, flavoured vodka and topped with Red Bull. Stand, tap glasses, tap bar top, guzzle and the loser pays the round ($11 a drink). I will attest that in about 15 minutes it does make you deaf, dumb and blind. Helen Keller is an evil sadist.