Kind of like the person who bought the first fax machine, I would like to know who the first person was to toss the salad. Y'know, a person who thought it would be a boss idea to take their taste receptor and plunge it into your feces ejector like a rat tunnelling away from a fire. "What could possibly go wrong?" they foolishly laughed at themself.
You're god damned right. Awesome song. When I was in high school this song was down right scandalous.
Answer me this, people: Would it jostle you slightly if you came home from vacation and found what awaits in the photo below in your living room? Spoiler
Since I'm scared to death of spiders I'm pretty sure I'd freak the fuck out. T yelled at me the other day when we were moving siding from the porch when I freaked out because there were about half a dozen brown recluses under the siding the other day. Apparently I'm a pussy because I don't want to get bitten by a poisonous spider.
Whenever somebody posts a listing for a home and they print that it "Needs tender loving care...", it should be law that they have to finish that statement honestly with "...like Ralph Fiennes in The English Patient."
Just some music about that girl. (Every man has one. Whether he's with her or not; or just hasn't even met her yet. This is the one.)
No, but then again, I'm an Aussie. I have dedicated lawnmowing shoes that are basically an old pair of sneakers that are a size too small. So I don't track lawn clippings in the house, they're kept outside the back door, and because I'm a fat lazy fuck, they don't get worn very often. I put them on today, barefoot, operating under the logic that my wide feet will fill every part of the empty space, squishing anything scary in the process. However, when I put them on today, something crawled out from underneath and into a space under the house. Since I was in a hurry to end the sububan nightmare (i.e. the mowing of the lawn), I carried on, and placed the shoes in the same position when I was done. If this nice weather continues, my little 8 legged friend has a week and a half, maybe two, till I get off my arse and do the lawns again, and she likely won't survive.
Four hours sleep last night, up early to catch a train, and I'm getting home tonight at 10:00 and then have to be somewhere stupid early Sunday morning. Remembrance Day weekend! Always a blast. Unrelated, I am hung over.
This is what I say about the the man who ever ate the first oyster. "Whoever it was walking around on the beach who found that rock, broke it open and ate the slimy nasty shit in the middle; must have been one hungry mother fucker."