Sunday, January 10, 2010
An open letter to Cowboys fans
An open letter to Cowboys fans. It is on perhaps one of the coldest days my testicles can recall that I congratulate you on your win. As I stare out upon the frozen water top of the trash strewn retaining pond I am reminded of Americas Team and its fans. For greater than a dozen years you Cowboys fans have remained hidden, frozen much like the old shoes, dirty diapers and papst beer cans that lay motionless beneath the ice of the pond. Yesterday was your ray of sunlight that warmed a spot on the icecap of your long and bitter exile. It will allow you to crawl out, slithering like the snakes you are, to rear your heads as if nobody has taken note of your silence for all of these years. The past few weeks have allowed the rest of us living outside of the dump pond to look into it, taking notice of the garbage, refuse and critters that inhabit that pathetic world. Let your voice roar Cowboys fans, let it echo off the walls of an empty Linc and bounce from the barren floors of sports bars across the region. Stick out your chests and show off your brand new Cowboys shirts and proclaim your life long love for your team. Do it proud, but do it swiftly for the cold chill that has kept you quiet for all of these years is closing upon you. The heat from the passing sun will soon move on and the ice will thicken again. Be sure to leave yourself enough time and excuses to scurry back to the scum pit of which you dwell. Do not forsake the rocks of which you have hidden for a decade for you will soon see, as the rest of us have for so many years...Dallas Sucks!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Famous Catfights I'd Like To See
There is little left in this world that excites me. I have already driven a car past a buck twenty five, jumped out of an airplane and slept with a hairy French chick while visiting London. I frequent the local bars out of boredom and often find myself yawning and leaving long before I can drink enough to vomit and be thrown out. The only thing I look forward to is for my nephew to stop eating the cats poop and to one day turn on Etv and see a clip of Angelina and Aniston wrapped in a tasmanian devil dust cloud, settling their feud breasto de breasto.
See my Fantasies Here
See my Fantasies Here
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Funnebone goes lampoony
I will be writing for The National Lampoons website. Help me pop my cherry by seeing my first post: the abc's of 34d's
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Death on Black Friday, Lawsuit on Green Wednesday
The family of the Walmart employee trampled by a raucous crowd in a Long
Island Walmart on Black Friday has filed a lawsuit. Jdimytai Damour was
hired as a temporary worker but it is unclear as to what his specific
position was or how exactly you pronounce his name. The suit names Walmart,
Green Acres Mall, a realty company and the security company all as
defendants and the family's lawyer plans to also add Nassau County and the
Nassau County Police and everyone who wears shoes sized 3 through 14 and a
half on Long Island.
The lawsuit was filed in the Bronx where the victims sister lives and where
the jury is more apt to give away a bizillion dollars. Apparently mourning
starts in Long Island just after the first lawyer picks up the phone.
Island Walmart on Black Friday has filed a lawsuit. Jdimytai Damour was
hired as a temporary worker but it is unclear as to what his specific
position was or how exactly you pronounce his name. The suit names Walmart,
Green Acres Mall, a realty company and the security company all as
defendants and the family's lawyer plans to also add Nassau County and the
Nassau County Police and everyone who wears shoes sized 3 through 14 and a
half on Long Island.
The lawsuit was filed in the Bronx where the victims sister lives and where
the jury is more apt to give away a bizillion dollars. Apparently mourning
starts in Long Island just after the first lawyer picks up the phone.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Rosie Live was a bigger flop than Rosie Does the Tennis Coach
Rosie O'Donnells return to television last about as long as a chocolate
eclair would on her nightstand. In what was supposed to be a throwback to
the classic nineteen seventies variety show, Rosie live looked more like the
Jerry Lewis Telethon meets Americas Got Talent. At least with Jerry's kids we
can always look forward to a big donation rolling in or a kid falling out of
his wheelchair. The only potential for entertainment with Rosie Live was
hoping she would realize half way through the show that it was doomed and
she would grab her crotches or drop an angry F-bomb on prime time.
It is hard to fathom that the star studded cast wasn't able to draw more
viewers than 5.04 million. I would bet that there has to be at least a few
thousand Arthur fans around who would tune in to see Liza Minelli. I am not
sure if anyone not having their adult diaper changed knows her for anything
else. I find it distressing that the gay/lesbian/transexual/ClayAiken
community didn't rally around two of their poster children and hold watch
parties while crank calling Mormon churches.
Rosie needs understand that the current "Rosie" is not appealing to most
people. Rosie started off as a nice fat straight woman and we all are
related to one of them. She then became a nasty fat funny straight woman,
and we all have slept with one of them. Next she was just a fat mean
sexually ambiguous kind of funny woman, and we all have had a girlfriend who
was friends with one of those. By the time she joined The View she was just
a miserable butch and everyone hates them. The only predictable path Rosie
seems to take is that she gets fatter and less entertaining and her stem
cells should be harvested to create future dog groomers.
See more at Funnebone.com
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Twenty Five years for three innings. Sounds like my sex life.
The World Series featuring the Philadelphia Phillies and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays could end tonight during game 5 part B. Part A was held on Sunday at Citizens Ballpark in Philadelphia in what could be compared to a mini hurricane. The baseball gods decided that despite the weather, the game would carry on, and it did right up until the middle of the fifth inning.
With the game tied up a rain delay was called and shortly thereafter it was postponed until the next day, or maybe even the day after that. So everyone went home and held their breath and soaked asses, awaiting the weather report. I sat at home, where I seem to spend all of my time anymore, wondering how it will play out.
If you read my previous post you would know that on Saturday night the cable went out for a time during the game. So several thousand people and myself all initially figured they didn't pay there bill again but we soon realized that it was Comcast cable who was to blame. The next night it was the weathers fault that the Phillies had to wait to clinch their first championship in twenty eight years.
Now there are thousands of people who can't go to tonights game, thousands who will go and just as many who want to go. Three innings, that is all that is left. People are shelling out hundreds of dollars to see an hour of baseball. Granted it is the World Series but it may come out to $5 a minute to watch baseball, that is more than phone sex or a call to Ms. Cleo.
If they win everyone will cheer and high five and then pour out of the stadium and a sea of red will flood the surrounding area, the area which if you don't drive to is free.
I once bought a $7 bottle of vintage wine that I thought was worth much much more. I saved it at a friends upscale restaurant waiting for the perfect girl to share it with. Well long story short When we opened it we smelled vinegar and therefore I had to order another bottle of wine as to not look like not only a jackass but a cheap one at that. I ended up putting out $400 that night and my date put out too, but not $400 worth. In fact I can't think of any vagina that is worth $400 any more than I could justify $500 for three innings of baseball. I can sit home, watch it on TV and then masturbate, all for the $69.95 I pay for cable. Then I'll go dancing in the streets with all of the "hardcore fans"
With the game tied up a rain delay was called and shortly thereafter it was postponed until the next day, or maybe even the day after that. So everyone went home and held their breath and soaked asses, awaiting the weather report. I sat at home, where I seem to spend all of my time anymore, wondering how it will play out.
If you read my previous post you would know that on Saturday night the cable went out for a time during the game. So several thousand people and myself all initially figured they didn't pay there bill again but we soon realized that it was Comcast cable who was to blame. The next night it was the weathers fault that the Phillies had to wait to clinch their first championship in twenty eight years.
Now there are thousands of people who can't go to tonights game, thousands who will go and just as many who want to go. Three innings, that is all that is left. People are shelling out hundreds of dollars to see an hour of baseball. Granted it is the World Series but it may come out to $5 a minute to watch baseball, that is more than phone sex or a call to Ms. Cleo.
If they win everyone will cheer and high five and then pour out of the stadium and a sea of red will flood the surrounding area, the area which if you don't drive to is free.
I once bought a $7 bottle of vintage wine that I thought was worth much much more. I saved it at a friends upscale restaurant waiting for the perfect girl to share it with. Well long story short When we opened it we smelled vinegar and therefore I had to order another bottle of wine as to not look like not only a jackass but a cheap one at that. I ended up putting out $400 that night and my date put out too, but not $400 worth. In fact I can't think of any vagina that is worth $400 any more than I could justify $500 for three innings of baseball. I can sit home, watch it on TV and then masturbate, all for the $69.95 I pay for cable. Then I'll go dancing in the streets with all of the "hardcore fans"
Saturday, October 25, 2008
phillies in the World Series for the first time in 15 years and the cable goes out!
For those of you who don't know, the Philadelphia Phillies are in the World Series and after tonight have a 1 game lead. The last time they were in the championship was in 1993 and I was twenty three and drunk through the entire playoffs. Now that I am a wiser, more mature and broke fan, I am forced to sit home and watch it like a big loser.
Tonight I prepared my celebratory feast: a taco bell combo # 4 and a gallon of dollar store iced tea. You may ask why I didn't have a Philly cheese steak or a pretzel and frankly, we get tired of eating that stuff so I went cheap.
The game starts out with the Phils up by one, then tied, then up by one again, then I have to take a potty break because combo # 4 became quickly forces one to have to go number 2. So when I return I find my screen frozen with an image of Pat Burrell wiping sweat off his forehead. I waited patiently for him to move, or for one of the 40k fans to make a noise but nothing happened. I thought to myself, Hmmmm comcast cable really can't be screwing up the world series in which the Phillies are playing And comcast calls Philadelphia its home, can they?
Well they can and they did. Comcast cable subscribers missed about three innings of the world series , the same innings where Ryan Howard and Chase Uttley hit home runs. After texting whoever I could to complain I turned to the craigslist rant and rave section. Besides being a bastion of racial slurs, political lunacy and pictures of genitals, cl rant and rave is a great place to complain with other home bound losers in real time and it provided me with an outlet to voice my rage against comcast cable.
I was delighted to find others who were victims of this comcast meltdown. The Verizon fios people were bragging about their clear picture and lower bills while the rest of us were watching a frozen screen and looking at the sex ads, waiting for either the game to come back on or a reply from the transsexual we just emailed. Just when I was about to lose hope that I would see the game or sleep with a ladyboy, the game came back on but the sound took another minute or so.
The Phillies won the game at 2 am and I suppose this will shield Comcast cable from much of the ire of their subscribers. Had the fighting Phils not pulled it out, all blame would have been on comcast and in this city, you don;t want in any way to be associated with a loss. Just ask the losing pitcher of the 1993 world series Mitch "Wild Thing" Williams. He stayed in hiding longer than the guy who the movie Goodfellas was based on.
I am no fan of any utility company but in this case I hope people dump Comcast for Verizon because the cable monopoly is known to screw everyone around here at any given chance and after tonight's debacle, it's time to pay the piper.
See more at Funnebone.com
Tonight I prepared my celebratory feast: a taco bell combo # 4 and a gallon of dollar store iced tea. You may ask why I didn't have a Philly cheese steak or a pretzel and frankly, we get tired of eating that stuff so I went cheap.
The game starts out with the Phils up by one, then tied, then up by one again, then I have to take a potty break because combo # 4 became quickly forces one to have to go number 2. So when I return I find my screen frozen with an image of Pat Burrell wiping sweat off his forehead. I waited patiently for him to move, or for one of the 40k fans to make a noise but nothing happened. I thought to myself, Hmmmm comcast cable really can't be screwing up the world series in which the Phillies are playing And comcast calls Philadelphia its home, can they?
Well they can and they did. Comcast cable subscribers missed about three innings of the world series , the same innings where Ryan Howard and Chase Uttley hit home runs. After texting whoever I could to complain I turned to the craigslist rant and rave section. Besides being a bastion of racial slurs, political lunacy and pictures of genitals, cl rant and rave is a great place to complain with other home bound losers in real time and it provided me with an outlet to voice my rage against comcast cable.
I was delighted to find others who were victims of this comcast meltdown. The Verizon fios people were bragging about their clear picture and lower bills while the rest of us were watching a frozen screen and looking at the sex ads, waiting for either the game to come back on or a reply from the transsexual we just emailed. Just when I was about to lose hope that I would see the game or sleep with a ladyboy, the game came back on but the sound took another minute or so.
The Phillies won the game at 2 am and I suppose this will shield Comcast cable from much of the ire of their subscribers. Had the fighting Phils not pulled it out, all blame would have been on comcast and in this city, you don;t want in any way to be associated with a loss. Just ask the losing pitcher of the 1993 world series Mitch "Wild Thing" Williams. He stayed in hiding longer than the guy who the movie Goodfellas was based on.
I am no fan of any utility company but in this case I hope people dump Comcast for Verizon because the cable monopoly is known to screw everyone around here at any given chance and after tonight's debacle, it's time to pay the piper.
See more at Funnebone.com
Awaiting the first visitor.
I slapped together my new website Funnebone.com and quickly added a hit counter.
I started the counter at #913, it's like virginity all over again.
I started the counter at #913, it's like virginity all over again.
9-13 is my birthday and I figure why not start the counter there and at least look like someone has visited the site. I await the first visitor as if it was my first lover. Starting with a fake number may seem dishonest, but what can it hurt? When I finally lost my virginity I lied then too. She asked me how many women I had been with and quickly answered " fivineteen" . I couldn't say I was a virgin since I just spent the last three hours telling her about how I graduated high school and spent a year at NASA space camp but was kicked out for asthma. Why kill my fresh cool guy image. I don't think it would have mattered what I told her, she was drunk, horny and had just gotten out of her third divorce. It is funny how women drop their guard when they are #120 overweight and balding. She just smiled, looked out the car window and hacked up what sounded to be a beanbag chair and patted me on the knee.
I often think back to that night every march 12th and although I don't remember much after I passed out from inhaling pubic hairballs I do remember the anticipation of losing my virginity. As I sit here looking at my counter, I have similar questions in my head; will I feel different, will people see me different and did I wash my asscrack today. Come on lucky 914!
Finally Funnebone has a website
I can feel liberty like it was the firm grasp of a Korean massage girl. With the launching of Funnebone.com I will no longer be enslaved to the whims of suckass people who want a funny website but lack the humor to produce it themselves. I can not be censored, scolded, chastised nor rebuked. For the low low price of $11.95 I can be me, and everyone else can SUCK My Humor!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Forbidden Love
It isn't too often that you find random love. Finding "the one" can be a gruelling task and when she turns out to be a forbidden love, it is all the more crushing. I stood before her taking in her beauty while I fumbled for my money. The flashing lights intensified my hypnotic state while the music playing above made it all the more surreal. It felt like forever between our first eye contact and her first words but I didn't mind, I had been waiting a lifetime for this moment. As her lips parted and the first syllable escaped her angelic mouth I braced for what I knew was going to be the first of many conversations. " Hi, what cha need?" she asked me in a sexy, ghetto guttural tone. My eyes were drawn to her jet black hair, dyed I assume, which danced upon her shoulders periodically hiding behind her large gold square earrings. " Can I have a Snickers and a blue gatorade" I sheepishly replied, embarrassed that I had to order by color instead of flavor.
The bulletproof glass that separated us was chipped, much like my heart. I leaned against the glass as she turned to walk towards the soda cooler. Her attire was sexy yet simplistic: stone washed jeans with a cross stitch pattern down each leg that revealed her straining flesh, high top off brand sneakers and a pink seemingly airbrushed shirt with cut off sleeves. This was no gold digger, this was a heart breaker.
She swiftly returned to the window, pretending not to notice that my proximity had decreased and my breath had fogged up the glass she leaned forward once again and through the microphone she souls communicated again. " three sisty fie" was broadcast about the empty lot and the drawer jutted out towards me. As the door of the metal box swung open I felt the rush of air that had danced past her body to escape the confines of the small cashier box. Hoping to breath in any scent of hers that may have traveled through the open air, I smiled and filled my lungs with the scent of diesel fuel and the vanilla air freshener hanging just inside the window. I was disappointed but not deterred.
I thanked her for my purchase and noticed her name was written on a gold pendent hanging from her pale and inviting neck. "Michelle" was stamped on the postcard sized medallion. Wanting to build a comfortable familiarity I leaned towards the microphone and pointed to her neck " Michelle?" I asked in an childish tone. She smiled and turned to the side pointing to a large script tattoo on her arm which read " Shelly". She leaned over yet again, pushed the talk button and informed me " I likes to go by Shelly." "well you have a good night Shelly" I quipped back.
"allight" was her parting words.
I returned to my car and didn't look back to see if she was looking for I knew this was not the last of our encounters.
Cock Blocked again
Last night I was at the bar and I noticed a guy with down syndrome was sitting a few seats down. At first it was hard to determine why he was different because frankly everyone in this bar is a little different. Some have missing teeth, or extra chins and in this case a few extra chromosomes. This was the first time I had seen a down syndrome person in a bar so I was a little intrigued. There is a dwarf who visits frequently so that isn't any fun anymore so this was a breath of fresh air. I caught him looking back at me and wondered if he thought I had a chromosome disorder so I looked away. I got up an walked around, oogled at some women and returned back to my seat. I noticed then that while I was gone he had befriended some very young and attractive women and was now dancing in the middle of them. I felt resentment rip through my body as I realized that not only had he garnered the attention of more women than I had, he was a better dancer. As I sat watching and pounding down shots of black zambuca, jealousy and ignorance overcame me as I muttered out " look how good that retard dances". My pseudo friend next to me heard me and turned to tell me " that isn't nice, they are called special needs persons". ___________________________________________
When was the determination made that deemed the more words you use to describe someone the better off they seem? What was it about retarded that made it seem any more demeaning than special needs? In fact I think retarded is much more specific than special needs because the latter could mean they need insulin, a trained dog, an underwire bra or even blocks on the pedals. At least with retarded you have an idea of how to prepare for the bus trip. ___________________________________________
Now with Sara Palin running for vice president, special needs is going to be used to describe every kid born in the last ten years. Every kid has special needs. Some need to stop eating, some need to get braces while others need to their asses beat every morning before breakfast.______________________________________________________________
As I absorbed my friends comment I realized she was right. This man had special needs, much like I do. I stood up and cast aside my envy and strode right up to the dancing circle and put on my best moves. I wiggled between two girls and danced like the devil. I figured by showing them that I knew how to have fun and that I embraced people for who they are that they would welcome into the group. Everyone was laughing and jumping and asking me my name. Suddenly the man who made me see my insecurities turned and admired my moves. He looked up at me and put out his hand and as my large palm covered his tiny hand he leaned into me and said " you dance like a retard, now fuck off and find your own women". He then turned, wiggled his ass and led the girls away in a dancing train leaving me speechless and alone. ______________________
When was the determination made that deemed the more words you use to describe someone the better off they seem? What was it about retarded that made it seem any more demeaning than special needs? In fact I think retarded is much more specific than special needs because the latter could mean they need insulin, a trained dog, an underwire bra or even blocks on the pedals. At least with retarded you have an idea of how to prepare for the bus trip. ___________________________________________
Now with Sara Palin running for vice president, special needs is going to be used to describe every kid born in the last ten years. Every kid has special needs. Some need to stop eating, some need to get braces while others need to their asses beat every morning before breakfast.______________________________________________________________
As I absorbed my friends comment I realized she was right. This man had special needs, much like I do. I stood up and cast aside my envy and strode right up to the dancing circle and put on my best moves. I wiggled between two girls and danced like the devil. I figured by showing them that I knew how to have fun and that I embraced people for who they are that they would welcome into the group. Everyone was laughing and jumping and asking me my name. Suddenly the man who made me see my insecurities turned and admired my moves. He looked up at me and put out his hand and as my large palm covered his tiny hand he leaned into me and said " you dance like a retard, now fuck off and find your own women". He then turned, wiggled his ass and led the girls away in a dancing train leaving me speechless and alone. ______________________
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Cock Blocked by GOD
I was close to getting birthday booty...until GOD stepped in .....Cock Blocked by GOD
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Obamapoloosa
DNC Convention in Denver closes out with Barak Obamas acceptance speech/coronation
I watched Obamas speech last night only because I wanted to see women crying while wishing he was the mulatto messiah. The music, fireworks and stage looked like something out of a concert. I was hoping someone would coax Hillary to show her tits but it didn’t happen. I was a bit surprised that Obama wasn’t carried into the arena like Caser entering the acropolis to celebrate the beheading of his enemies. I wouldn’t even have blinked had he been strapped to a large red, white and blue cross.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Panhandling Kids...F your fund raisers
Warning...may contain strong language and humor
I am getting a little tired of the teenage shakedown. Everywhere I go there is a kid shaking me down for money to support their sport trip, dance class, play, program ads ect. What exactly is the lesson being learned when you tell kids that in order to get what they want they should panhandle. At least the con men who ask for $3 tell you it is just to catch the bus home. With that I can feel some delusional gratification even though I know it's for wine. But to hit me up when I am trying to go buy a soda because the fucking marching band is going to Florida for " finals" is just plain arrogant. First of all, guess what my school taxes are....too fucking high that's what they are. Guess how many kids I have in school...not fucking any. So while I am metal detecting my back yard to find oil money so I can have heat, you little trumpet playing bastards are planning to go to Florida? I haven't gone anywhere tropical since 1997 when I went to Atlantic City and got shit on by seagulls. Secondly, why do the " finals" have to be in florida? Why can't we heard all of you little assholes into a high school gym somewhere so you can see what the gym looks like other than when you re lying on your back from just getting knocked out in dodge ball. Your poor father is busing tables at IHOP so you can go blow your tuba in South Beach? Get lost. And why does the swim team need to raise money? What possible supplies can be out of your economic threshold? If you can't afford speedos, wear your mothers panties, stop blocking my way into the 7-11.
They aren't even taught how to beg correctly. They set up a table at like 11 am, crayola some goofy shit on an old pickle bucket and sit on their asses while their fat mothers peer at me while I run past. They don't even get the fuck up! If I ever do contribute to these little bastards it's going to be when i wizz nickels at them from the car as I am pulling out.
And if they need money so bad, how did they all get those cheesy satin jackets with their name on them that they'll outgrow in 7 months? Crackheads look like crackheads. Their clothes are dirty, teeth are rotten, smell like urine..but these kids look like they just left a sears catalog and are about to dance in Annie. You want my money...earn it. At least the fat softball chicks offer to wash my car.
But why is it every car wash porn I ever saw had hot chicks with half tops on waiving at traffic? Around here they don't block traffic with sexy outfits, they block lanes with their thighs. It is like some kind of fucked up softball fantasy league where you were stuck with all catchers. They always look like the cheer leading squad for The Biggest Loser.
The girl scouts have a product. Those mint cookies and coconut whateverthefucks are good but not that good. $4-5 a box for cookies? Check back when you're 18 and maybe I'll tip you that when you bring me some Hooters wings but I am not paying 25 cents a cookie so you can learn how to tie knots.
I am getting a little tired of the teenage shakedown. Everywhere I go there is a kid shaking me down for money to support their sport trip, dance class, play, program ads ect. What exactly is the lesson being learned when you tell kids that in order to get what they want they should panhandle. At least the con men who ask for $3 tell you it is just to catch the bus home. With that I can feel some delusional gratification even though I know it's for wine. But to hit me up when I am trying to go buy a soda because the fucking marching band is going to Florida for " finals" is just plain arrogant. First of all, guess what my school taxes are....too fucking high that's what they are. Guess how many kids I have in school...not fucking any. So while I am metal detecting my back yard to find oil money so I can have heat, you little trumpet playing bastards are planning to go to Florida? I haven't gone anywhere tropical since 1997 when I went to Atlantic City and got shit on by seagulls. Secondly, why do the " finals" have to be in florida? Why can't we heard all of you little assholes into a high school gym somewhere so you can see what the gym looks like other than when you re lying on your back from just getting knocked out in dodge ball. Your poor father is busing tables at IHOP so you can go blow your tuba in South Beach? Get lost. And why does the swim team need to raise money? What possible supplies can be out of your economic threshold? If you can't afford speedos, wear your mothers panties, stop blocking my way into the 7-11.
They aren't even taught how to beg correctly. They set up a table at like 11 am, crayola some goofy shit on an old pickle bucket and sit on their asses while their fat mothers peer at me while I run past. They don't even get the fuck up! If I ever do contribute to these little bastards it's going to be when i wizz nickels at them from the car as I am pulling out.
And if they need money so bad, how did they all get those cheesy satin jackets with their name on them that they'll outgrow in 7 months? Crackheads look like crackheads. Their clothes are dirty, teeth are rotten, smell like urine..but these kids look like they just left a sears catalog and are about to dance in Annie. You want my money...earn it. At least the fat softball chicks offer to wash my car.
But why is it every car wash porn I ever saw had hot chicks with half tops on waiving at traffic? Around here they don't block traffic with sexy outfits, they block lanes with their thighs. It is like some kind of fucked up softball fantasy league where you were stuck with all catchers. They always look like the cheer leading squad for The Biggest Loser.
The girl scouts have a product. Those mint cookies and coconut whateverthefucks are good but not that good. $4-5 a box for cookies? Check back when you're 18 and maybe I'll tip you that when you bring me some Hooters wings but I am not paying 25 cents a cookie so you can learn how to tie knots.
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