You have shitty friends and really need to think about why you're so worried about liking a show. Focus: Here, just for you: I watch tons of shitty television all the time. Desperate Housewives? Check. Well, the first 6 seasons that were on Netflix and I'll watch the 7th when it shows up there eventually. Jersey Shore? Check. Real World? Check. Hellcats? Yup. Amazingly, not one of my friends has abandoned me because of my crappy taste in TV.
Maybe, but they appreciate a good Hellcats midriff. Actually, most of my friends are amused by my taste in TV, but have better things to waste their time on than worry about what I watch.
Um, ya, I guess. The point is that they would give me tons of shit for it and I don't want to hear it.
Think back, if you will, to January of 2007. The real estate market is booming, George W. Bush is president, and the world eagerly awaits the release of Spiderman 3. I'm 19, and a sophomore in college. One Saturday night I'm at a pretty typical house party, drinking beer and trying to hit on various girls, when I feel a fart coming down the pipe. I let 'er rip. Oh...fuck. Yep, I sharted my pants. Naturally, I decide to get the hell out of there. I find my friend on the back patio and tell him I'm leaving. But to get out, I have to walk through the crowded dance floor. As I maneuver my way through the mass of people, I come face-to-face with this really hot girl with strawberry-blond hair. She smiles at me, and despite the excrement in my boxer shorts, I am instantly smitten. "Do you want to dance?" I ask. "Yeah!" she says and grabs me. Within a few minutes we're making out, and I lead us over to a couch. I sit down and hear a faint squish. It feels even worse. But I am 19, I have been going through a dry spell, and she is hot. I convince her to come back to my dorm room, where I quickly excuse myself to go to the bathroom. My boxers are done for, so I simply open the eighth floor window and throw them into the courtyard below. I use about a half roll of toilet paper mopping up the damage, then return to the girl, who doesn't seem to notice nor care that I'd been in the bathroom a good 10 minutes. We hook up, and she starts blowing me. "You're not wearing underwear," she says. "Yeah, I felt like going commando tonight," I say and she laughs. At no point does she give any suggestion of smelling something horrible. I walk her back to her dorm, then take the longest shower of my life. I call her a few days later, and we end up dating for six months. There was also the time in 1996 when I killed my younger sister because I was jealous of all the attention she was getting for being in child beauty pageants. I even faked a ransom note that my parents were dumb enough to believe. I'm still amazed I got away with it.
I cried during the movie "Marley and Me" LTMSette called me "dog crier" for a few weeks afterwards, she's not all that creative.
I did too... my dog was on his deathbed at the time though so it really struck a chord (thats the excuse for my blubbering like a little girl that im going with anyway... in reality i probably would have anyway, im a big dog person.)
Sorry for the double post, but because I don't want anyone in my real life to know about this I will mention it here. Two days ago I started a career in porn.
I used to repeatedly spank it while smelling my best friends moms and aunts underwear. There is something that still turns me on about girls in their forties wearing thongs and boy shorts.
Don't be hating. Like you don't have some weird closet fetish. I like to be choked during orgasm too make of it what you will.
This surprises no one. [/quote]Don't be hating. Like you don't have some weird closet fetish. I like to be choked during orgasm too make of it what you will.[/quote] To see the only girl with balls enough to choke you, please see the NFL thread or look up a certain Mod starting with the name She... Frankly dude, you scare me. I'm not saying a damn word about ANY fetish you may or may not have.
I bet under all the tattoos he is a big ole pussy cat. I bet I could be the one to tame him. (seriously, that would probably have been my line of thinking in my younger years)
I can put on a big red nose if you'd like and nothing else. You're only seeing the visible ones guess where the rest are? And why am I scary? I'm a tree service/ logger by trade and a big ol softy when it comes to my lady friend or any of our kids. Not exactly hard core as I get old. Though I seem to find myself in a lot of fist fights still. We were discussing it on instrength and I'm gonna start choking people out screaming "JIU JITSU" for laughs.