Fucking... What the fucking fuck. Who the fuck fucked this fucking... How did you two fucking fucks... fuck! Dear lord....who's in charge here? I'm looking for some hot Bieber action and stumble into this clusterfuck of degenerate miscreants. I need a shower.
My kid is destorying everything she sees. Good thing I'm working tonight, so after 4pm she's my wife's problem.
This reminded me of a song I learned years ago... "There once was an Indian maid, Who never was afraid, To lie on her back, In a tar-paper shack, And let some buckaroo stick her in the crack. But much to her surprise, Her belly began to rise, And out of her cunt, Came a bowlegged runt, With his balls between his eyes. Oh the moon shines bright on pretty Redwing My pretty Redwing, My darlin' Red"
Told my friend that some random guy owned the bar we were in, so she decided to go hit on him for free drinks. It worked. Plus he was the type of guy who thought that buying her guy friend a drink would make her more likely to sleep with him. Dumbass.
After I flew in last night from Hawaii, I had a panini party with some friends and got drunk, very drunk. I just can't say no to more wine! Gah, my files are too big to post. At a later time, then.
So, bar golf is awesome. It was beyond ridiculous. Started out at eight, hit the first bar and it was downhill from there. Shit was broken, drinks were drunk and the birthday party girl didn't make it past eleven before she was vomiting all over the seventh bars washroom. We decided to keep on going, hit the last three bars and ended up at the seediest karaoke bar in history. I met a bunch of animal activists (hot, hot women are into that stuff) and then went home with a MILF who has three kids. All in all, a good night, indeed. Edit: The MILf stole my sweet sweater vest and her friend stole my hat. Oh well, guess I'll have to go get it. Or something.
Gotta pay the hosting fee somehow. I wish there was a wine delivery service. I don't really feel like going out but I would like a nice bottle. Dilemma.
Don't remember coming home last night, or going to bed. When I woke up my mouth tasted disgustingly like Spicy Poke and beer, which would explain why the pound of it that I had in the fridge is gone. Now where the fuck is the empty container? I ran into a sort of friend last night, who was with a phenomenally hot broad. At first I thought they were, you know, "together," which made it weird when she was really getting into the conversation with me. But my god, she was pretty perfect. Worked on the remake of Hawaii Five-0, at some level. When I mentioned what I did, we began talking about literature. She said that she still loved getting stoned and reading Through the Looking Glass, which is awesome. And then, they said their goodbyes and moved on. Subsequently, I found out they weren't together at all, and that she was really into me. Now...if I can only track her down somehow. Ehh, I'm guessing I'll see her around somewhere in the coming weeks. Hopefully. So yeah, then I got blackout drunk. Women have been really diggin what I've been putting out there lately, I think it must be the badass beard I'm growing.
Yeup. I often notice they are still wet when I'm about to put the underwear on, so I'll hobble over to the towel now hanging on the shower door and lean up to it to dry the balls a bit more. But then, as if my testicles were somehow conspiring against me, when I go to put the underwear on again I'll notice they are still wet. WtfM?!
Best investment I ever made was a heated towel rack. I have it on a timer to fire up an hour before my shower in the morning, and turns off a couple hours later. Dry your balls with a nice warm towel, and you'll never have that problem again.
Problem? That's no problem. Just another excuse for getting caught dancing naked in front of the mirror again with balls bouncing around in one hand and a blow dryer in the other to the sounds of Mambo #5.
What is it with you and always talking about "balls/nuts"? "Not that there is anything wrong with it..."