My room is so cold it is unbearable. Stupid goddamn ventilation panel in the window that never properly closes. Trying to order thermal curtain linings off the internet and never received the confirmation email after it took all my card details, so am in curtain limbo, trying to call the store just gets me put in an eternal expensive phone queue. I just want to be warm ;_;
The Luxembourg royal family are a good-looking bunch. Not bad for inbred European royalty genes. And she's single? Damn. I've always wanted to be a trophy husband.
Love that trade for both teams. Rockets finally get a star and the Thunder get 80% of Harden in Martin, a PG to study under Westbrook and multiple picks.
Fuck that, that's barfight eye. Obviously the hugest guy in the room was jealous of Black Jesus because of all the immaculate trim that clammoring to him, so after CJ gave him a few Double Dragon-knees to the face for glancing in his direction, he got a shiner off the nightstick from one of the eight cops trying in vain to stuff him in a paddywagon. At the police station, the cell duty guard sent top-shelf call girls to his cell out of respect. He typed his last post from the poilce desk.
I like the picks, but Martin isn't nearly as good as Harden, mostly because he's one of the worst defensive players in the league. I think it definitely hurts the Thunder's immediate chances, but it might wind up lengthening their overall window, so we'll see.
You have no idea. I was pounding free shots because the bartender was DTF. This guy challenged me to a donut eating contest, but when he lost he threw a punch at me. I was all, "What the fuck, guy?" Then threw him over my head into the mirror behind the bar. Did I mention I am 6 feet tall without lifts? Because I totally am. And all the donuts were filled with alcohol. After banging the bartender in the bathroom, everyone crowned me King of Spring Break even though it's October. That's when the cops came and they all wanted to take a picture with me, but had to arrest me anyway. It was cool, I went along with it. This time. Let me remind you, I am 6 feet tall and 200 pounds of muscle.
Sadly you use most of those 200 pounds of muscle to tell strangers on the internet to taste your nutsack.
My bad, dude. My bad. If it's any condolence, I was going to send lewd messages to more people after you, but got bored and went for a jog instead.
You're right, that does make me feel better. Here's a picture from Luxembourg I feel belongs in this thread.
The beerfest I attended yesterday had a maple bacon wheat beer. I fell in love with it, drank a lot of it, shamelessly hit on the beer distributor, made friends with a French rugby player, spent an hour trying to find my friend's house while never being less than half a mile from it, passed out at the dinner table, got sick out the passenger window on the way home, and then slept it off for twelve hours after my mommy brought me painkillers and water. I think beerfests and I are breaking up. On a somewhat related note, my mom kindly let me know that my drunken stumble into the powder room next to my parents' bedroom interrupted them, as they had been otherwise occupied until I started heaving. Thanks for that mental image, Mom.
Well they managed to accomodate me by providing more than one dildo. But you know how dildos go, there's such a thing as too few, and no such thing as too many. Did it taste like lumberjack semen?
Your just figuring this out? I don't get the hype...and most people that listen to it are obnoxious as they come.
It was a little too thin to resemble semen of any kind, but let me tell you, if the flavor profile of semen was more often characterized by undertones of maple syrup and a smoky bacon aftertaste, I'd be handing out blowjobs left and right. It'd be a blowjob bonanza.
So, my guest that I would be Halloweening with waits until after we were already drunk to tell me that he's going to need my help sewing his costume for him. That was a terrifying time. But worth it, AND neither of us ended up getting stabbed: Edit: Warning, this pictures are GIGANTIC, but I'm way too lazy to resize them so, sorry. (As they say in the Boobie Thread: With Permission. Only, I actually asked permission.) (Also, I'm realizing that sounds like I sewed the costume itself. He bought a costume intended for a toddler and I sewed it onto his shirt and what not.) It was weird how few people got it,though. I think that since we were in Brooklyn people kept trying to make it more ironic that it was ever intended to be. He kept having to tell people that they were making it a lot more complicated than it was. He was just Batman. When we were walking to the bar, we passed by these two drunk guys outside of another bar and they stopped us and send to me "Well, I know what YOU are" (which was weird, because I basically wasn't wearing a costume, but they told me I was going as The Devil Wears Prada somehow) then turns to him and goes "But what are you?" And he played a guessing game for a few minutes and never figured it out on his own. As we continued walking, my friend was getting so annoyed and second-guessing his costume and deflating and wanting to go back and prove to that guy how awesome he was, and I started laughing and pointed out that he was acting exactly like you're supposed to after somebody "negs" you. I had never seen it play out like that so perfectly.
"The Farts Of The Leviathan". That's how I refer to dubstep. There's a difference between deep drum n' bass and just plain low end static. It's noise. No rhythm, can't dance to it, sounds awful. When you play it, ghosts fly out of the speakers and rape children.
Household has made an executive decision to have white russian ingredients in the house at all times. Pretty happy with this turn of events.