Y’all, go watch this video of a cat kicking the ass of his older, much larger adopted brother. However, note that Olive (small cat) has resorted to kicking Uncle Irving (large cat) in the face because he is sitting on her head.
I hate Jesse so much. May he burn in hell a million times but never die so he can live in torture. May he be hung by his filthy toenails above snarling, snapping alligators, crocodiles, and pirahnas. May he be brutally rejected by every woman, man, and animal in the universe. May his very important body part fall off before he completes puberty and may I have the pleasure of seeing him suffer through this.
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An old man, shopping with a snob, chili, and the front door.
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Last night gorjus called as I was in the middle of a bourgeoise crisis in the kitchen.
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In which I discuss Alfie, Mean Girls, the new Butterfinger Crisp candy bar, Star Jones’s wedding website, Lindsay Lohan’s big hit single, and Larry’s work ethic.
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I really love songs that tell a story, especially ones with a lot of words. Usually, this means country songs–they tell the best stories: those involving cheaters and murder.
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I just got this email from Mrs. Floon. She watched the Miss UAB pageant last night, and this is a word-for-word transcript of the interview segment from a contestant whose talent was doing a “praise dance” (?) to a Christian song in which her left nipple showed the whole time:
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Today I begin an occasional series (I’m not enforcing it for everyone–I remember the popularity of National Poetry Month) wherein I rip off the format and point of Nick Hornby’s Songbook and devote posts to some of my favorite songs. (more…)
These types of entries always have lame introductions. It’s some links to sites I’ve been reading lately.
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Larry and I went to Cancun for our honeymoon. Because I’m a nerd, I kept a journal while we were there. I also drew some pictures.
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Hey, y’all, when you vote today, do theohreally a favor and leave a comment saying you did. And maybe relate your voting experience–if any of those nasty challengers were at your voting location, or if the electronic voting doodads broke, or if it was an all-around pleasant experience… let us know.
This means you, lurkers.