Hey, what the fuck ever happened to the girl who tattooed Tucker's name on her? I forget her screen name.
Yes. I had to turn it off. Mostly because I didn't want to live with the pictures sitting on my phone for the next 30 days. The pictures you take from after the lock screen can be deleted. The ones you take before the lock screen - not so much.
As I said in a rep to hooker, her handle was Crash. She was a mod on the RMMB I think and was from Pennsylvania? She was another crazy. We really had a decent movie line-up here over the last few days... Friday night - Machete, Saturday night - Serenity and then Borat (I still find Borat hilarious - "back pussy" as a referral to one's ass is fucking funny, to me at least), Sunday night - Bad Boys, Monday night - Public Enemies.
She made me sad. Bunny made me sad. That "Living with Tucker" bit, I had to take a break reading it. That just hurt. Max once said he was the next Hunter Thompson. Not a chance. He could have been the next Henry Miller, though. His prose was nowhere near as mellifluous as Miller's, but with work, sure*. It's a shame to say IHTSBIH was so damn funny because reading about the guy's personal life, he's an obnoxious piece of shit 30 year old me doesn't patronize, nor follow anymore. Still fucking funny. He attracted such weirdos and lived such a charmed life, one couldn't help but be entranced listening to this guy's shit. Just like Miller, who was no sweetheart. Max also had some wonderful bits on personal philosophy, mastering oneself (even if he didn't follow his advice), and words on living fully and well. If he melded philosophy, funny, weirdness, drunkenness, insight with unabashed honesty about himself, honesty that would be absolutely brutal and ugly (the Bunny post), he could have made a book that resonated with more than people looking for shit jokes. Or that fratire crowd. He's got something to say, but it's all wrapped up in ego and painting himself in a certain way. Miller was almost like a cult leader with lost people and hippie sex kittens. Max could have done this on such a more profound scale than just with the whores and frat boy hanger-on types. But he's such an arrogant cock. *Miller was also over 40 when he was first published, and had written two unpublished, bloated lousy books, and wasn't published in America until he was 70. He also was in dire need of an editor.
Hope Solo is such an amazing athlete...I don't understand how she can be so clueless on the dance floor. Seriously, it's like watching someone dance with a mannequin. Anybody else think that how someone dances is indicative of how good they are in bed? I can't help but think that she must be a dead fish.
It's true. When I fuck, it's just like I dance: slap someone with a white, rhine-stone decorated glove, lay down some cardboard, and get down. Bonus if you wear a plastic grocery bag over your hair so you don't fuck up your jheri curls.
I put the "poke" in Hokey Pokey: Put my right hand in. I take my right hand out. I put my right hand in, and I shake it all about.
Yeah, but never forget...it takes two to tango. He didn't do anything to her that she didn't allow him to do. You always have the option of walking, and if you hang around a miserable situation than you're equally to blame. Edit: Me with the dancing references tonight. Jeesh.
Oh, man DC, you reminded me. When I was watching all the old white folks spasm arhythmically on the dance floor, I could help but imagine their jowly, pasty lovemaking. There was one couple that was so happy and unselfconscious, though, that I was absolutely certain they were putting stuff up each others asses on a regular basis.
I think her name started as Twinkletoes, and was changed by mods to TwinkiesnHoHos. I feel bad I missed all of the reminiscing this weekend, but I was busy erasing my own memories, as befits a drunk thread thread.
Holy fuck, I've got cabin fever. Suddenly not being able to live the active lifestyle you're used to is incredibly hard and soul crushing. I can't imagine how hard it must be to come out of an accident with a life-long injury. In happier news, red wine and home made chicken pot pie. Comfort food always helps.
So, a number of you are criticizing Bunny for being somewhat crazy. And also for putting up with Tucker's shit. Do you see the link there? That was the whole point. She knew she was fucked up. She knew she had Mommy issues. She knew that she shouldn't let Tucker treat her like shit, but she did anyway, because she has more issues than the bibles got psalms, if I can break it down for a minute. I'm not actually sure why I'm defending someone I haven't thought of in 2+ years, I just think she seemed like a genuinely kind person who got dealt a shitty hand in the whole mental stability stakes. Compare her to say, SirenX, or TxtBkHistrionic, or $1.25, or RedHighHeels. They weren't good people. They were delusional attention whores who would likely have pissed on a dying child in the street if it would give them a few more seconds in the dubious limelight of TMMB prominence. Although I always liked Candypants and even Coquette. I think she posted here briefly. On those Sunshine chicks, as I recall they propositioned Tucker for a threesome, and posted some nudes that got taken down for being essentially childporn. And I remember that Crash chick less for the tattoo and more for letting a friend of hers fuck her in the ass prior to getting a blowjob from his girlfriend, who he had recently discovered cheating on him. When people pointed out that the platonic guy friend was getting a pretty deal on platonic anal, I'll always remember her response of 'hey, this was purely for revenge, it's not like I let him finish". She was interesting.
I have been informed that I can't move my hips for shit on the dance floor, but have no such problems in the bedroom... so take that for whatever its worth.
Anyone else find it odd that we're discussing incidents that occurred 5 years ago involving people we don't actually know who don't even post here?