Tag Archives: humor

Stupid Things Mothers Compete About

This post is probably more relatable to women, maybe because it’s about mothering, maybe it’s because I’m a woman, maybe because Air Bud can play basketball really well.

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“Nothing but net!”

Maybe because I said maybe a lot and cited reasons. If I use potentially or possibly this post would sound a lot smarter, because scientists use those words more so to support their hypothesis (an educated guess, because everything scientists do is educated, even guessing). If my calculations are correct scientists could potentially guess with education than you when they play Guess Who? leaving you to guess, well, stupid. Also by my calculations I can make a hypothesis if I wear a lab coat, lab coats make you seemingly smarter than before.

3.Who has the most disinfected kid.

we all know that kid’s hands are more vile than a urethral swab from Tommy Lee. However moms think that having sanitizer in their purse, on their key chain, and simply everywhere makes them superior. They are quick to give you the most horrified look when you don’t splash Germ-X on each rung of the monkey bars as your kid goes across them. Firstly, hand washing with soap and water is more effective being that it kills C. Difficile spores. That’s one that can make your butt a diarrhea fountain not unlike the chocolate fountain at Golden Corral. Furthermore, constant sanitation eliminates germ exposure, weakening the immune system. Yes, your kid should wash his hands throughout the day but if you think that leaves you bacteria free, your an idiot. The body is comprised of millions, trillions of bacteria, approximately five pounds of it. we also have an immune system that operates on recognition of invading pathogens, so while it may be counterintuitive, the body breeds exposure in order to respond appropriately.

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“Motthhhhaaaaaa”

2. Who had the worst labor.

Birthing a child hurts, duh. Most women had contractions, painful ones at that. Some women labored for hours, some for days. Some women are dead set on having the most worst labor of all time as if they give prizes for that. First of all oxytocin, that awesome hormone that starts contractions, creates a flow of wonderful emotions, and also causes a woman to forget just how painful labor is. That’s nature’s way of “buying you a drink”. I mean if you remembered distinctly every detail, humanity would have ceased or slowed considerably. What could be a shared experience for women to relate to each other is sometimes a battle for who had it worse. It’s hard for me to openly talk about this subject for this reason. I love to hear other women’s stories but not when they have to detract from everyone else’s with, “Oh that’s nothing, I’ll tell you about MY birth…”

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“When you were born it felt like Wolverine shredded my vagina”

1. Who sleeps the least.

Another favorite, some mothers love to make lack of sleep a badge of honor. Again, this could be supportive and relatable right? Fuck no! “When MY child was a baby he slept four hours every seven days, and I cleaned the house while he did that.” Yes, infants wake often. Sometimes they have colic, and they sleep very little. However, they do fucking sleep, because humans sleep. What’s worse an admission of being tired is like a celebrity tweeting a racist comment, you are subject to scrutiny. Not only will women make outrageous comparisons but ensure you that you have failed because you require just some of that restorative function our bodies need, not want, need.

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I suppose us women will always compete. Maybe we’re evolved but we still look at the Facebook pages of our boyfriend’s ex or our ex boyfriend’s current girlfriend. I admit it, and admit I do it because I want to think I’m prettier, thinner, better at taking bathroom mirror pics. People in general brag more than they should really. Oh well, what to do? Well, besides hate every bitch at the YMCA pool, or baseball game, birthday party, pre-k keg party…what?

I love the moms who just admit they struggle and it’s challenging to be a mother. There are women who really do face so much adversity. I’m not sure why women aren’t supportive of each other as they could be. If being a good person and parent kept score, I’d be somewhat better than the Detroit Lions, somewhat.

Khaki Crazy Debauchery

I have mentioned before that my laptop had a rendezvous with death. I’m not much of a computer person but I think the fact that it won’t start-up is a good indication that it’s done for. Yes, it was plugged in…Yes, I turned on the “on” button. So instead of abandoning the blog I’ve come to love, I use my phone or I go to the library which makes me feel better about paying taxes. Not only am I using the internet but I’m surrounded by hotties. I’m not sure why, but the only other people who use the public library computers have a “skullet”. 

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You and me should study some anatomy together.

Speaking of computers. I admire that people know like, a whole lot about them. In my mind the inside is a dated 3-D animation of grids and cubes. Not unlike a Trapper Keeper.

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Pictured: the motherboard

I never really took a strong interest in computers and therefore am perpetually asking, “What the hell does that mean?” This put’s I.T. people in the “wizard” category, which includes; mechanics, mathematicians, and women who make kid clothes on Pintrest.

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mechanic poop

This last weekend I’m pretty sure I saw the most wild I.T. department party since the beating of the fax machine on Office Space.

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And so it begins

I witnessed this at bar with some karaoke. It’s been a while. So there was a group of guys, about five of them, in matching plaid shirts and khaki pants. I’m pretty sure they finished updating a huge company’s database and decided to loosen up a bit. You know just some good times with the bros.

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It was a long day fixing adorable problems

So these guys start drinking and singing. I mean that’s typical of a karaoke bar right? Yes of course. Well, they drink a lot. They start laughing hysterically, they start yelling, they start…holding hands and dancing in a cirlce? Yes. One lays on the table and another one stands in the chair. There was a lot of stumbling and or dancing to Poison. There happened to be a literal game of grab ass too.

Their antics continue until the slapping starts. Yes, they are slapping each other in the face and then hugging, then kissing each others cheeks. The night just got very confusing. I’m not sure if these guys are going to fight or fuck or both. Either way there is going to be debate over whose chinos are whose in the morning.

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Dude, dude the boss just asked for that file and I sent a pic of my junk!

They left the bar walking arm around shoulder in a line kind of deal. Everyone inside was like, “What the hell was wrong with those I.T. guys?”. I suppose it’s not right to assume they were, but come on they were.

Au Revoir Apartments…Smell Ya Later

My lease is up at my apartments, and I’m planning a more economic friendly move to another apartment with a roomate. It’s tough for single gals and I for one would sure like financial stability as well as the company. This move is bittersweet, while I often complain on Facebook about my apartments, I’m still going to miss what I’ve called home for a few years. I’m also going to miss my neighbors, no, not in the way you think. I don’t think I’ve talked extensively to any of them but I’ve observed them from afar on a level of certain creepiness. So, who will I miss?

The Denim Clad Bludgeoner

Perhaps I’m jumping to conclusions here, but the guy who lives across from me is in the business of death, sudden violent death to transients and hookers. He leaves early in the morning while the dew is still on the grass, because he travels to commit his heinous acts. Dressed in a demin shirt, demin shorts (jorts) and brown boots topped off with a khaki hat he leaves, taking a long wooden walking staff (ready for spontaneous murder). He gets into his inconspicuous white jeep and gives me a friendly nod as he drives away. He’s gone for several days. I know this because when our apartment management leaves memos stuffed in our doors his will remain in place for 3 to 4 days. Meaning, it would have to be removed if he came into his apartment. However he’s home when they do inspection and he leaves notes for them not to spray his apartment with insecticide. I don’t believe this is a worry about chemicals, no sir, it’s because he has clippings about the place celebrating his crimes. Duh. All killers do this. Which is really outdated and not very green. One could easily just save a zip file on their PC labeled “My Insatiable Lust for Blood”. I also believe this because he left his blinds open and I peeked through, there were newspapers everywhere (no I’m not weird!). He doesn’t want pest control to walk around spraying that watered down Mello Yello they call insecticide and discover the missing teens from Branson MS met their fate at the hands of a blue jean loving assassin. He’s nice enough but his eyes sing a song of murder to me, “I want to dismember you, fa la la la la la”.
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Tankerbell’s Mommy

I don’t know this lady’s name either but I know her godforsaken dog’s name; Tinkerbell but pronounced “Tankerbell”. This lady is at the very least 400 hundred pounds and she  yells at her chihuahua while walking around barefoot all day. Seriously it’s like president Taft walking around in a house dress. She’s always saying, “Tankerbell, hush up quit barkin’ git in tha house!” These apartments are pretty small and she lives with her significant other, another woman, and some kids but there’s a like several and I can’t discern which one’s actually live there or just like show up. Nonetheless that’s a lot of people for one place and at night their shades are open…yes I look in and there are sheets the partition the living room. It’s like a Hooverville in there. There’s another dog too but it never gets yelled at because Tankerbell is the one that never shuts up. This dog has like a hernia or hemorrhoids because it’s butthole looks like it was pulled out, kind of like a Sonic straw. I can say right now I don’t envy that dog.

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Tankerbell! where are you?

The Office Depot Adonis

This guy I often see getting into his yellow Mustang going to do whatever beautiful people go do all day. I’ll assume float on clouds. He works at Office Depot which I discovered by happenstance and not by being a stalker (this time). I went to make prints of my artwork and he was there, we talked about apartments and how much they suck, and well what do you know! He’s int he building next to me. I figured out that he was actually the well muscled hulk of lustful thoughts that jumps rope and jogs around the complex. He drips sweat that could bring flowers back to life.  He’s the guy I for serious, almost wrecked into a dumpster watching warm-up with some high knees. Did you know movies do not edit beautiful people in slow motion? Beautiful people effect the time space continuum and their movements actually slow down so the world has some semblance of order while they are around. I fumbled over words like an idiot, and forgot what I was talking about mid-sentence. Yeah, THAT beautiful. Now I can’t just walk into Office Depot without feeling like an awkward school girl or stalker-like. I would like to look into his window.

Gandalf the Grey

There’s an elderly lady who leaves her apartment several times a day to go to the mailbox or kind of stand on the sidewalk and stare contemplatively into the horizon. Firstly, I want to know what kind of US Postal Service does she think she has to go to the mailbox more than once? Secondly, I think she goes outside to steal the joyful noise of the nearby songbirds. She has her name because she wears a grey sweat suit ALWAYS and has matching grey hair. Thus, Gandalf the Grey, plus when you get that old you have magic powers. Maybe her mobility has far exceeded her cognitive ability and she is slipping slowly into the world of dementia. A small part of me fills with fantastical terror when I wave and say “Hi” but she only glares at me with contempt. I can’t say what her apartment looks like because it’s on the second floor and that presents a challenge of sorts. I’m going to say full of razors and Halloween candy. Her plan only foiled by the fact that old people hand out that caramel candy kids hate and never eat.

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I'm going back upstairs to wait for the third mail delivery today.

Facking Cool Guy

The northern guy who has several bad tattoes including the black panther of shame and the tribal arm band. He “DJ’s” um, nowhere. He cuts the sleeves of his shirts because all fellas know this creates an optical illusion of muscle. He hits on EVERY woman at the pool maybe even some dudes with bitch tits. He wears sandals and has gross feet.

Hot For Teacher

This woman is the 80’s and honestly I love her. She has the leathery brown tan skin, bleach blonde hair, neon clothes made of mesh net, sunglasses ALWAYS, and a convertible. She can always be found at the pool when its open baking herself in the sun slathered in baby oil, seriously, listening to Poison on her boombox.

I however will not be missed by anyone because I’m that weird fucking girl who looks through windows, stares at everyone, and can’t drive very well in the parking lot. Changes…

Shut Your Pie Hole: Part Three

I’ve written before about conversational faux pas, not once, but twice before. Well, it’s always fun to revisit my favorite subject; people being assholes all day everyday.

Well I’ve gathered some more violations that coincidentally render me full of overwhelming desire to whirl my arms in a windmill action and run straight forward into the person talking.

3. Being a condescending arrogant fuckface about uncommon knowledge.
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Everyone has a hobby or interest and with that carries a superior knowledge pertaining to that particular subject. Perhaps they are a “specialist” in the area.

For example you have someone who’s really into a specific music genre. They are absolute snobs about specific varieties because just enjoying music that you like is absurd. This can relate to the inability to acknowledge legitimate talent to a “sell-out” music group. No one is less discriminating in taste because they don’t know about the all transsexual (and one bear) jazz fusion group from Iceland you post You Tube videos about on Facebook all fucking day. Furthermore, no one purposefully clicks those links and when they do they say “Uh! Damn you touch screen! Go back!” However this is the same type of person who is an absolute snob about you saying, “Oh hey, so I downloaded The Black Key’s new album and it’s so good.” They in turn have to dramatically roll their eyes and make face just to say, “They became SO commercial, I can’t believe you listen to that.” They manage to alienate themselves as much as their music alienates itself because you, know, most people don’t like it. Ha.

My senior year English teacher was arrogant prick about all things grammar. It was like he was flabbergasted he had to teach us anything. How dare we students need to be educated? He, by the way, must have had heinous Benign Prostatic Hyperplasia. His nickname was “donkey balls”, also his wife looked like a man. One time, a student realized that his wife happened to be another teacher there and exclaimed, “That’s your wife? I swore I thought she was a les…um…oh…crap.” My teacher’s balls were pulsating with anger. Ha.

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it's like I had my high school yearbook on google images

I’m not certain where the overconfidence comes from but I think it relates to how much someone identifies themself as a person with that activity or knowledge.

2. Insistent People Who Will Not Take NO for an Answer

It’s awkward enough to be polite as possible when you say “No” to an engagement you don’t want to commit to. It’s torture to say no a thousand freaking times. However, the other party is not getting the hint and is providing a million alternatives to enable you to attend. Maybe even murder…

Small example, say you hate pumpkin flavored anything in life. I do, if all forms of contraception was pumpkin flavored I would choose abstinence. More realistically, I would have an abundance of unplanned pregnancies.

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Drink I tell you, you have to watch your brother and sister tonight

Incidentally, someone insists you would just love THEIR version of pumpkin pie and abandon your prejudice, giving redemption to all pumpkins the world over. Making the Great Pumpkin and Linus really happy. Well, lets say you relent just to stop the not shutting up that’s going on. You realize suddenly, this is what Ke$ha’s mouth tastes like when she wakes up in the morning. You want to gargle with sulfuric acid. Yep, you still hate pumpkins.

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With one exception

This may or may not have happened to me personally, so that was all hypothetical. For whatever reason, these kind of people don’t interpret the words that are coming out of your mouth as a decline to their invite so they just keep asking over and over.

1. Healthy Advice Givers When Advice is Not Asked For.

I actually, care a whole bunch about health. I work out, I eat healthy, I work in the healthcare profession. It’s my passion. I don’t say anything about to anyone, as if it were Fight Club. I eat my vegetables and humus and STFU about it while I do it. Now, my coworkers know that I live this way but only because they ask and I in turn will tell them. They cheered aloud when I joined them in a cupcake celebration. I mean, I am human, and…cupcakes.

However, no matter the GMO filled, hydrogenated fat packed, chemically treated foods they eat, I’m going to be silent. Everybody knows vegetables good, candy bad. Everybody. They have internet access, a library card and a physician just like me.

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This it's way better than having a life!

Well meaning health fanatics can sometimestake it to level ridiculous. They think they are privy to occult knowledge. I don’t mind being told about the dangers of a product’s chemical, I really don’t, but don’t be a hypervigilant nag about it. People tend to shut down when they experience constant correction. Also, people are going to live the way they want to and will not seek help until they are ready…if ever they are ready. So while a persistently critical health fanatic might live a long, healthy life it will probably be a lonely one too. This whole organic moment is growing in popularity (which, don’t get me wrong is really awesome), it’s ushered in a whole new kind of asshole behavior.

Well…that’s all for now. Comment, share…criticize (this may be shocking but not everyone it’s a fan of my blog).

Election Time

It’s that time again and it’s near, Halloween? Besides the most awesome holiday of the year, it’s time to choose our next leader. So, everyone is in a frenzy of opinions and reposting memes on Facebook about how candidates are idiots or the answer to everything wrong with our country  (like flesh pants). There’s not a lot of enthusiasm this year, I’ve heard a lot of talk about how doomed our country is. How our forefathers are going to rise from the grave with otherworldly outrage over our misappropriated Constitution adherence because not everyone wants to say Christmas anymore.

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how dare you like the British version of The Office better!

While you choose our next president, keep in mind there have been some insanely incompetent leaders in the past. This might make you feel a little better like, “well, he’s better than THAT guy”…

Elagabalus – Roman emperor 218-222
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Made emperer at the age of 14 years old, managed to generate far more sexual scandal than Bill Clinton and all the chubby chicks interning at the White House could have dreamed of. He was married and divorced five times in the four years he was emperer. He rather enjoyed wearing women’s clothing while making sexual advances to any passerby. He prostituted himself among the grounds of the imperial palace. He later offered a large amount of the Roman treasury to any physician who could give him sexual reassignment surgery.

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I've got a picture of Lindsay Lohan getting out of a car, can you use that?

He deposed Jupiter at the head of the Parthenon and replaced it with Elagabal , forcing Rome’s government to practice religious rites in honor of this deity. He had a prototype of the whoopee cushion that he liked to use at dinner parties. His body guards, probably sick of “Who cut the cheese?” jokes every fucking time they sat down, assassinated him and dragged his naked body through the streets.  This was most likely a plot formed by his own grandma and the Praetorian Guard.

Nero -Roman emperor 54-68

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why can't my crown be made of french fries instead of salad!

 Nero is most famed as the “Emperer who fiddled while Rome burned”. This was a nasty rumor accusing the emperer of actually starting the Great Fire of Rome in order to clear the land for Domus Aurea, or the Golden House, a quaint 300 room villa with artificial lake and bronze statue of himself.

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this fire is outta control, I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city!

Nero is said to have captured Christians and burned them in his garden for a source of light. Christians are way better than tiki torches, btw. He was also described to be malodorous…so there’s that.
The Romans must have appreciated the severe taxes (surely this in no way funded the Golden House).

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stinky's house

Vindex in Gaul started a rebellion which resulted in an assassination plot against Nero. However he committed suicide June 9, 68 and was the first emporer to do so.

Francisco Solano Lopez -President of Paraguay 1862

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my business beard

This president declared war against Brazil, Argentina, and Uruguay at the same fucking time. Now called The War of the Triple Alliance. From what I gathered this had a lot to do with disputes of land and diamond mines. Either way Lopez took on these countries and it ended disastrously. This decimated the male population of Paraguay, leaving most likely armchairs that didn’t smell like farts and a sexy Amazonian society
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…Um, oh and not to mention Lopez was paranoid ordered the execution of prominent Paraguayan citizen; bishops, judges, lawyers, military officers, priests, and foreigners. His own mother was flogged and executed for revealing to Lopez he was born out-of-wedlock. Bastard. The war ended with Lopez being shot while trying to hide perhaps from all the native savage women, or most likely from the enemy.

Charles II of Spain 1661-1700
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Last of the Hasburg family to reign due to their copious inbreeding. His genome was actually found to be more homozygous than a child with sibling parents. All of his grandparents were descendants of the same people. This was done to protect property, but resulted in progressively worse mandibular prognathism in each child. Which is a major underbite. That’s a lot of risky inbreeding just to protect some goblets and beaver fur hats. Anywho, Charles was most affected, being that he was unable to properly chew or speak clearly. He had pituitary gland deficiency and renal tubular acidosis. Basically his kidneys didn’t acidify urine, leaving him with osteoporosis, seizures, and mental disturbances (severe anxiety, irrational thoughts) . Well, before genetics were to blame, sorcery was the logical conclusion, Charles called himself “The Hexed”. Charles was increasingly more disturbed toward his death demanding the corpses of his family be exhumed so he could look at them. Spain as a country was a dismal place to live, the economy suffering and people starving. The general presiding over the infamous Spanish inquisition convinced Charles to destroy documents investigating the whole fiasco. The evidence of wrongdoing was overwhelming but not a trace could be found when Phillip V took the throne.
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Charles died at 39, the coroner describing his innards as gangrenous and putrid.

Well friends, I hope that helped. Go vote! Unless you’re a convicted felon, then I suppose you should um, work on a hobby. If your still in prison, maybe draw a picture of the outside world on your cell wall and do a personal life inventory.

Celebrations and Secret Fetishes

Life is many things, and worth celebrating. I suppose that’s why we have birthday parties, surely it’s not to ensure magicians have jobs. They dress like effeminate pirates and who likes that? Birthday clowns are weird too. There was a guy in my neighborhood growing up that was a birthday clown. He called himself Bubbles. My mother would threaten to hire him for my birthday. Not funny, not ever, mom. Okay a little.

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mind = mystified

Now where was I? Oh yes, life and fetishes. This is not a secret admission here, it’s more like a FYI. I have some shame, probably a little more than Dina Lohan. I’m going to say right here, that was the only episode of Dr. Phil I wanted to watch and actually did watch. If you don’t know what I’m talking about take a minute to “click this link fool” on your magic wizard box or computer as they have been called since 1977. Then come back and thank me in the comment section.

What exactly is this fetish business? Active Senior Citizen Men. Yep.

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wave your hand in the air, wave them like you just don't care

I was driving down the road and saw a geriatric man riding a bicycle, his calve muscles were ripped. His jogging shorts perhaps dangerously short and in danger of a more than generous ball shot, but he was rocking them the fuck out. You could feel his zest for life emanating from his person. He was living the golden years and winning at it.

I can’t help but admit that I find active old men attractive. I don’t necessarily want to give them my phone number for them to program into their Jitterbug phone, because lets face it that would take like ten minutes. I do however, admire them and want this when I myself am older. There is just something so amazing about a man in his sixties living a less sedentary life than most men my age. Plus they have AARP benefits and more than likely a Mercury Sable convertible.

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you should see the north pole, uh huh huh, shazaam

When I see an older man jogging, I imagine he woke that morning before dawn. He did some push-ups and laced up his favorite pair of New Balance shoes. He came downstairs to eat three eggs, a piece of toast and coffee, black. Cream and sugar is for men who can’t change a tire, weak men, men who didn’t vote for Reagan. Men who don’t eat meat. These men do not own power tools. Disgusting. He heads down to his favorite greenway mindful that he remembered his waist pack with water bottle holder. After some stretches and a disapproving glance at the young man in his sagging pants, he begins.  He goes along, nodding politely at all the ladies (because he knows they’re impressed), until he’s completed his routine.

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prefers fat free half and half

He gets home to enjoy a delightful cold cut and brown mustard sandwhich with the wife. Then they bang, because he’s an active senior full of vigor. He showers and then goes to his wood shed for the day to make birdhouses and whatever the hell old men do those things. Really, what do they do beside shellac EVERYTHING? I don’t know either but I’m willing to be arrested for trespassing to spy on one.

He comes in for dinner; pot roast, potatoes, green beans and homemade yeast rolls because his wife Alice either cooks or looks through JC Penny catalogues all day. They watch Dateline and go to bed. This is what I’m pretty sure active senior men do, everyday.

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that's right bitch

I personally think this is awesome, or that I’m awesome for thinking this. Whichever, have a sexy day.

Ways to Divine SMART

Hello WordPressers, stalkers and prison wives. What is today’s topic you ask? Keep your pants on, I’ll tell you. Divination. What’s that? It is an occultic method used to foresee the future or gain insight on the past and present. All of which are inspired by
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