Dad’s tumor is aggressive and malignant, so the treatment has made him super dependent on my mom…which. Jesus what an exhausting situation for sure. I know that since the tumor was touching his temporal, parietal, and frontal lobes, the drs told us to expect some changes but it was mostly speech, motor control, and memory. Depending on where your former friend’s tumor was living, those types of changes may be more significant than what we’re facing.
We just set everything up on Facebook. Blinked my eyes and my 20th will be next year. 10 year one felt like yesterday. It was fun but not terribly memorable. One the most popular girls in our school was there, top athlete, student government, academic scholar type. She had her bro-dude fiancé with her who talked about strip clubs in Tampa where they lived the whole time. This year is the 20th year anniversary of my dad dying which is another milestone I don’t enjoy. Wish it would have been just operable brain cancer.
ExH2’s child bride (the one he groomed from 16 after he met her on the chive or Twitter) finally saw the light and dipped. I’m guilty of a hearty laugh at his situation. Now he’s posting** personals ads looking for hot teens again. I didn’t laugh at that part. **I don’t apologize for keeping an eye on crazy, especially knowing the state’s ambivalence.
I don’t know if it is still a thing, to be honest. But she graduated in 2014, and he’s about to be 58. I don’t know what it says about the internet but I’m sure it’s something.
I could go for a PBR. https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.ad...ng-ass-saying-they-were-in-poor-judgment/amp/
It’s a solid question. What IS the difference between the taste of Pabst and the taste of ass? One comes in a can?
There are worse-tasting beers out there. We have one up here called O.V. (“Old Vagina”) that tastes like your tongue took a shit down your throat. You could torture military secrets out of a green beret with merely a funnel and a single tall boy of Olde English 800.
You shut your fucking whore mouth! Every bottle of that delicious nectar of the gods was brewed to perfection in rusted out wash basins, filtered through the few remaining teeth of local methheads, and poured into glass bottles so old you can’t rely on them for the inevitable bar fights that’ll occur drinking them. I’m reasonably sure the company that made OV only ever made a single batch, which is still being served to this day in every shithole bar in Bumfuck, Manitoba.
Im assuming you’re referring to Tucker Max’s insane blog post about being a prepper now? The whole is written as if he just joined the QAnon ranks. Good Lord. It’s hits all the usual points: The pandemic is really a psyops campaign, Jan. 6 was no biggie, The US is going to collapse in favor of China, etc.