like money for groceries for hairdos

The signs on the bus tell you to know what to expect when your cell is asked to call 9-1-1. The contingency plans for developing a mental block against dialing 4-1-1 when trying to query "Best practices for confrontations with primordial sub-mattress entities who've lost their way home?" Not so coalesced.



He said he was just in the relationship for the tickets, and he was just getting the tickets for the relationship. I told him he'd lost perspective and become needlessly recursive.



The set of the things I like includes Cold War nostalgiabation, chili cheese Fritos. Also,



And of course, baked goods.

Songs Uri Gellar's Mom Never Taught Him

Imagine I'm a stand-up comic. This will involve two things which I'm in equal non-possession of as the ability to spin a basketball on my fingertip and the ability to dunk. Namely: timing and a funny face. So while we're in fantasy land, I'm going to speak factually on things I have no experience in, but I'm going to keep it within the realm of possibility, so the sex jokes, even if fictitious, will still be about sex with MYSELF.



With that said:

Have you ever been masturbating on a Saturday night around that time where it's not so late that you can fully devote your attention to JUST porn, because there's still that one hour of vaguely entertaining/comforting syndication between prime time and paid programming?



What I'm talking about is the times when you can't decide whether to completely focus your attention on the screencap of Jessica Alba dressed as Catwoman, or an episode of Barney Miller you haven't seen but once. You're sort of hard, sort of limp, but you know if you just gave up, the rest of the show would be ruined for you anyways, yet you still just don't feel like hitting mute. What you're having now, is angry sex with yourself.

"I know who's boss around here! If I want to veg out AND get my rocks off, I CAN DO THAT. I DON'T HAVE TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOU, ME!"



It's a grudge match with your libido. You press down on the base of your cock, grit your teeth, and just FOCUS ON THE ITCH. You ride it to the end. Oh! You can just SEE the orgasm coming on your pleasure motion tracker.



Hot shit! Its going to work! You could bend erotic silverware with your concentration. And Fish just got off a good line! HAH! You're laughing AND coming, and you haven't done that since you were actually fucking someone else and you suddenly realized just how funny the phrase 'heaving breasts' really is!



BELLS! WHISTLES! OH.YOUR. GOD. HAHA! OH FISH! FISH! FISH! FISH!!!!

all he wanted to do was get it out of there, it didn't matter where it went

Florida State football fandom, you can get with this (in theory):

...but can you live with being named that? (not that there's anything wrong with it)

I think you'll get with...wait, there is nothing phat about FSU, even if they beat Clemson tonight.

Let me tar zxvf that for you: In the land of the blind man rapping by saying a word twice, the one eyed 30 somethings are still kings.



Selah on that for a minute.

***

Demosthenes, Locke, & Hobbes, They're Cops. Dept:

People's Liberation Army hacks into Pentagon computers. Angela Merkel feels their pain.

Despite the moo shu pork-smelling threat, our Fearless Fearmongerest Leader gets ready to schedule Appalachian State for another rent-a-surgical strike. Nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong here. It's a Division I-AA, uh I mean, third world army! Quagmire? Who's talking about quagmire when it's a $400,000 guaranteed win!? Sign off on those 1 mill washers and pass me a comfort girl!

***

Meanwhile, we waste the rest of our goodwill in the Americas by pounding the living be-Thor-us out of everyone else. It makes you wonder if Operation Enduring Expense Account would have been more successful if
was
,

6 was 9, and
was .

I enjoyed this tournament, safety-worded reader. Not just because being on the West Coast allowed me to catch it at a convenient hour, but because for the first time ever, I got to be in on the big damn joke secret of LBJ, Melo, and Mamba. Instead of having to play 1 on 5 with four teammates just getting in the way, they got to play with, and as, equals, and it was glorious. So hagiographic indeed, that if they had a couple more years of seasoning and time to gell with each other like shoe inserts, I honestly like their chances against the Original Dream Team. Sure, there would have been no stopping Michael Keaton feeding Christopher Lloyd in the post, but youth would most certainly have been served.



I've been Thin Lizzy, you've been the KISS Air National Guard. Good night.