Saturday, July 31, 2004

F*ck it again.

I created this entry to apologize to Orlando Cabrera and Doug Mientkiewicz, the two players the Sox ultimately got for Nomah. I referred to them as "two retards and a hand job."

I was harsh. I was abruptly unfair. I shoudn't have.

Then I looked at their stats.

Orlando Cabrera: .246, 4 HR, 31 RBI
Doug Mientkiewicz: .246, 5 HR, 25 RBI

I just can't do it. I can't.

As stated previously, the Red Sox today traded Nomah for two retards and a hand job.

At least Boston fans got fucked in the deal. That's better than a hand job, I guess. But it feels more like we got fisted.


Oh f*ck.

Sometimes life shows you a preview of things to come. Sometimes those things are really good. Sometimes, not so good.

The Sox just traded Nomah for two retards and a handjob.

Oh f*ck.

My Kingdom for a Firkin of Belhaven.

Geez, I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really want a Belhaven on tap right now.

Oh, by the way, a firkin is 72 pints. Or 144 cups. Or 288 gils. Or 6,912 teaspoons.

Look, I'm just thirsty, ok?

Finally, some answers...

I'm hard at work today. I spearheaded an effort to help save all mankind from itself. I am proud to report we devised a tool (hee hee, I said "tool,") to solve the age-old dilemma...

What's for lunch?

Cinema Lunch Generator

Thursday, July 29, 2004

11 Minutes of Huh?

I had a really weird night last night...

So there I was.

I was sitting on my steps, practicing guitar in preparation for the lesson I give my friend John every Wednesday night. My roommate, Jason, had come outside to hang out and chat. We were sitting there, drinking icy cold beer and chatting when a girl rounds the corner down the street from our apartment. She's about 16, maybe 17. She walks the block or so towards us, peers into the new piano shop about three doors down from us, and then tentatively approaches us.

Odd sixteen-year-old: "Excuse me, do you have the time?"

TB: "Uh, yeah. It's 9:55."

OSYO: "Great, thanks."

And she walks off. Well, she gets about eleven feet from us, stalls, and then returns.

OSYO: "So, uh, what songs can you play?"

TB: "You mean, songs you might know from the radio?"

OSYO: "Yeah."

TB: "None, really. I just play my own stuff for my own pleasure."

OSYO: "Oh. So, uh, do you guys live around here?"

Jason Bertrand: "Yeah, we live here."

OSYO: "That's cool. I live in Arnold."

At this moment, a woman rounds a different corner with a camera on a tripod.

Camera Gal: (in a thick European accent) "Can I take your picture?"

JB: "Uh, sure. Hang on though; I have to fix Old Glory." (The American flag hanging from our doorway which had become tangled.)

CG: "Ok." She takes a picture. (click)

JB: "Hang on!"

CG: "Sure." (click)

OSYO: "So, uh I work right around the corner at Buddy's restaurant."

TB: "That's cool."

Enter another girl with a camera on a tripod. She sets up next to the first girl, about six feet away, and starts taking pictures of CG.

CG2: (to CG) “Can I take your picture?”

CG: “Sure. Hey, are you almost done with the flag?”

JB: “Yep.”

CG: “Great!” (click.)

CG2: “Smile!” (click2)

OSYO: “So, uh, you guys ever get to Buddy’s?” (click) (click2)

TB: “Yeah, we’ve gone for brunch a few times. It’s pretty good.” (click)


CG2: (to JB) “Can I take your picture?” (click)

JB: “Sure. What’s this for?” (click2)

OSYO: “Well, I don’t work Sundays. Well, I work at four.” (click)

At this point a third photographer with a tripod is setting up shop at the end of the block and starts photographing the whole scene.

JB: “That’s cool. I’ve eaten there once or twice for dinner.”

(click) (click2) (click3)

CG2 starts taking pictures of JB and TB. CG starts taking pictures of P3.

OSYO: “Uh, you guys should come in some time for dinner. I can hook you up.”

TB: “Uh, yeah, right.” (click3)

(click2) (click)

JB: “So, what’s up?”

OSYO: (click) “Oh, nothing.”

TB: “So, do you play guitar?”

OSYO: “No. I don’t have the coordination for it. I play piano, though.”

(click) (click3) CG2 is reloading her camera.

TB: “You play piano. That takes coordination.”

(click2) (CG2 is done reloading.)

OSYO: “Yeah, but not for guitar.”

JB: “What kind of piano do you play?”

OSYO: “Well, I only have a keyboard right now, but I’m saving for a full-size one. There’s a piano store on the next block that sells some great ones.”


JB: “Actually, it’s a few doors down.”

OSYO: “No, I’m pretty sure it’s on the next block near where my mom picks me up.”

(I remind everyone at this point she was peering into the piano store window at the beginning.)

JB: “okay…”

OSYO: “Yeah, so, what’s going on?”

TB: “Nothing.” (click) (click2)

P3 packs up and walks off.


CG: “Thanks, guys!”

JB, TB: “Sure.”


OSYO: “Got a light?” (click2)

CG packs up as well, and walks up the street.

TB gives OSYO a light.

OSYO: “Thanks. Yeah, so, you guys should come in and visit me sometime.”

JB: “Yeah, well, our schedules are kinda odd. We’ll see.”

OSYO: “Well, I guess I gotta go. Nice to meet ya!”

JB, TB: “Yeah, you too.” (everyone shakes hands. OSYO walks off.)

CG2: “Thanks, guys!”

JB, TB: “Sure. What’s this for?”

CG2: “Just out taking some pictures, that’s all.”

CG2 walks off.

JB, TB sit there alone, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Total elapsed time: 11 minutes.

Painful Discovery.

I don't know how it happened, but it did.

It's tough to be a superhero when all who know you are constantly suspicious, and therefore nosy. It worse than papparazzi, because you know they only do it because they care.

Well, I've been found out. So, I might as well come clean.

By day, you all know me as mild-mannered, sober, Adam.

But, by night, I'm....

Der Mann Der Den Kindern Fische und Freude überall Gibt.
Yep, that's right. Loosely translated, it means

The Man Who Gives Fish and Joy To Children Everywhere.
Man, I was trying to keep it a secret. But I got cocky, and got caught. How, you ask? Well, I posed for a photo whilst distributing said fish and joy. I was in Tiannamen Square a few nights ago (well, night to us, day to them.) A tourist said,

"嘿! 那不是帶來魚和喜悅給孩子到處的人?"
(Hey, isn't that the Man Who Brings Fish and Joy to Children Everywhere?)

To which I replied (naturally),

"當然我是, 您傻的短的人! 這裡! 有一條魚和一些喜悅為您的孩子!"
(Of course it is, you silly, short person! Here! Have some fish and joy for your children!)
They took the fish and joy gladly. Then then mother (I assume she was the mother) said,

"但我們怎麼可以曾經感謝您魚? 它是顯然的一個人如您太重要以至於不能完成魚和喜悅工作為自由!
(But how can we ever thank you for the fish? It is obvious a man like you is too important to do fish and joy work for free!)
So I said,

"所有我問是您敬佩我的  從一個中等距離和給我的汽車超級幸運的亮光, 百分之一百!!!
(All I ask is you admire my genetalia from a medium distance and give my car a super-lucky shine, 100%!!!)
Ah, we all laughed. Then she snuck out a camera! The 母狗 took my picture! Well, I managed to take most of the fish back, but the joy was lost. I mean, you can't really take back joy cleanly, can you? And, wouldn't you know, the next day my friggin' picture was on the web.

So, I give up. I'm sorry, children of the world, Der Mann has to hang 'em up for a while.

Der Mann at Werk
(The incriminating photo.)

Sigh. That's what you get for trying to do the right thing.


Friday, July 23, 2004


Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm just a little daft in the head.

But why does it seem is though America consistently fucks up? Why do we seemingly always drop the ball when it comes to doing the right thing?

I thought of this as I read The Silver Fox's entry regarding the Tour de France. It got me thinking. Why does the world hate us so?

It couldn't be the whole Iraq thing, could it? Such subversive behavior couldn't be it.

Maybe it's the whole Americans cheat at practically everything we compete at because we are so about the fame and money and 'glory' that we leave our dignity and integrity in the poop sample we send to the BALCO lab? Nah, couldn't be that.

Perhaps it's scandal after scandal spanning every conceivable arena: Martha Stewart, Enron, the Presidency, sports figures (remember the "13-year-old" that won the Little League World Series for new york by throwing 90-mph heat? They cheat in Little League, for fuck's sake. Disgusting.) But, maybe that's not it.

Could it be the way we simply take what we want, when we want it? Possibly.

Maybe it's simply because we are the bullies of the world, and have been for a long, long time.

And who doesn't like to see the bully get their friggin' asses handed to them?

Boy, it's getting tougher and tougher to hold my head high when I say I'm an American.

Thursday, July 22, 2004

The Juke Box Hero speaks...

Ok, so I took Whiskypants' personality test. And I swear to all that I hold dear no manipulation was done. None.

Wackiness: 168/100
Rationality: 182/100
Constructiveness: 226/100
Leadership: 172/100

You are a WRCL--Wacky Rational Constructive Leader. This makes you a golden god. People gravitate to you, and you make them feel good. You are smart, charismatic, and interesting. You may be too sensitive to others reactions, especially criticism. Your self-opinion and mood depends greatly on those around you.You think fast and have a smart mouth, is a hoot to your friends and razorwire to your enemies. You hold a grudge like a brass ring. You crackle. Although you have a leader's personality, you often choose not to lead, as leaders stray too far from their audience. You probably weren't very popular in high school--the joke's on them!
You may be a rock star.

I've said it before, and it applies once more.

I don't put on my rock star face...I am the rockstar.

Ladies, the line starts in the back.

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

The Foxy List.

An extra-special WAHOOO! the The Silver Fox, who turns a paltry 34 today. That's right, ladies, step right up and lay yer dowry down!

In honor of TSF, here are some interesting statements about the number '34.' It's my gift to you, Fox. I'm so sorry. 

Fun Statements About The Number 34. (or, the Foxy list)

1. "34" was Nolan Ryan's number when he pitched.
2. "3" plus "4" equals 7.
3. If you say the numbers really fast ("threefour") it sounds almost like your sneezing.
4. 34 is half of 68.
5. In Egyptian times, they used 'numbers' to count things, much like they do today in modern Mesopotamia.
6. "3443" is a palindrome.
7. In Chaldean numerology, "34" is "3+4."
8. Also in Chaldean numerology, "3+4" signifies enthusiastic, optimistic, and fun-loving. That's   
our wacky Fox to a T!
9. The Yankees have 34 losses today! (That's about 100 too few, the dicksuckers.)
10. The Royals only have 34 wins today!
11. 33 is only one away from being 34! (keep streching and drinking your milk, little one!)
12. Jose Cappellan of the Greenville Braves is the 34th best player in the AA minors!
13. If you put 17 women in a room, you'd have 34 boobies!
14. The T-34 medium artillery tank was designed in 1937!
15. Exodus 34 quotes, ""Cut two stone tablets like the former, that I may write on them the commandments which were on the former tablets that you broke." Gee!
16. in 1861, America's flag only had 34 stars! (Look out! Here comes Kansas!)
17. Chapter 24, paragraph 1 of Utah's Code 34 specifically prohibits blacklisting employees!

Gosh! That's seventeen already, 34!!!

Boy, we sure had fun tonight, didn't we my little monkeys! Well, Fox, have an outstanding birthday, and I'm sorry I'm not there to share it with ya. Have many for me, ok?

See ya everyone.

Monday, July 19, 2004

This Just In: The Hello Kitty Mafia Has a Headache.

Oh, my head.
Hello my little monkeys. I'd really appreciate it if you could please read this as quietly as possible. It's been a long weekend.
I spent Saturday night with New Character in the aforementioned Finn MacCool's. And, might I add, had a mah-velous time. After much commiseration and consideration, the decision was made that Finn MacCool's is a decent enough place, but not the pub mecca I had hoped for. New Character is not mega-found of Seisun music to begin with, and I'm sure sitting ten feet from the band didn't help. But the drink was cold (well, mine was. NC had single-malt scotch. She has excellent taste in scotch.) And the conversation was swank. I managed to be my usual Don Juan self (well, as everyone knows, that is much, much closer to Don Knotts.) A good time was had by all.
Sunday afternoon came quickly. As I found out, our fair street was having a festival! Yep, that one was sprung on me. But as you all know, I now feature the speed of a cobra with the speed of two cobras, so it was no problem. Before you could say "Adam zipped to the store and got provisions for a cucumber and pepper salad, and also got a bunch of stuff for barbeque including ingredients for what would become an absolutely bitchin' BBQ sauce, and then ran home and whipped it all up. Purple monkey dishwasher," I  zipped to the store and got provisions for a cucumber and pepper salad, and also got a bunch of stuff for barbeque including ingredients for what would become an absolutely bitchin' BBQ sauce, and then ran home and whipped it all up. Purple monkey dishwasher. All while drinking beer and watching High Society. Abbypilot once commented that she prefers older movies because they are just as funny as current movies, have better plots, and just feel more real. I concur. If you haven't seen this movie, do so. Good, good stuff.
Which brings us to today. I'm off to the gym to try and banish the toxins in my system to the land of wind and ghosts.

Saturday, July 17, 2004

I got skillz.

Sup, monkeys?
I'm writing this at 8:47 am, Saturday morning. For anyone that knows me at all, this is a friggin miracle. I'm up this early because I was out late last night. (Yeah, it doesn't make any sense to me either.)
But make no bones about it; I got skillz. Permit me to demonstrate.
"Why do u riff with me
the maniac psycho
And when I pull out my jammy
get ready cuz it might go BLAAAAW
how ya like me now?"
"Give me a sista
I can't resist her
Red beans and rice didn't miss her
Some knucklehead tried to dis
Cuz his girls were on my list
He had game but he chose to hit 'em
And pulled up quick to get with 'em"
I tried to warn you. My skillz are impeccable.
Why am I so?
Someone has doubted me. Someone is actually in doubt of my skillz. I know this because they wrote so. They actually wrote it.
"When I step up in the place yo
I step correct
got you all in check
I got that head nod shit
make you break your neck"
I don't put my rock star face on, babe; I am the rockstar.

Friday, July 16, 2004

The stage is set...

In a brief moment of unfamiliarity, I left the cocktail locale up to New Character. And it appears she won't disappoint. We are off to Finn MacCool's Cork Publick House in DC. I opted for DC simply because I have been here too long not to have a better knowledge of our nation's capital. Plus this way, when I have burned Annapolis to the ground, I'll have a backup plan.
As you all no doubt know ('specially you kah-razy Beantown folk), Finn MacCool, the legendary Celtic hero, was the leader of the Fianna Éireann, a corps of 3rd-century warriors and hunters that protected Ireland from invasion. Stories of the Fianna that were written down in the 12th century form the Fenian cycle, which remains a vital part of Irish folklore.
Of course you knew that. Geez, I'm Italian and I'm on it.
Interesting fact about this place; no Guiness on tap. Ok, Q-townies, just breathe. Apparently, the reason stems from the owners not wanting to go with the norm. Instead, it is one of, if not the only, bars in DC to pour Beamish on tap. And, might I say, a well-poured Beamish can be every bit rewarding as a Guiness.
We have concocted a theoretical agenda for discussion (well, actually, she did. I simply rode the coattails to glory.) This agenda includes explaining everyone's nicknames to her. Should she ply enough 'potent potables,' it'll happen, too. Sorry, guys, I'll fight the good fight as long as I can. But we all know a full house (three beers and a rack) beats the possible reprocussions of friends, especially those who would agree with me on this.
Oh, and I just got wind Snuggles is coming to town next weekend to sup form the baseball cup; by which I mean we're going to the Sox vs. Orioles. Tee hee hee.

Rock you like a Bunnycane...

So there I was.
Last night was a treat, sort of. Abbypilot had returned from Iceland the night before with a case of lobsters packed on ice, as well as two cases of Icelandic beer called "Thule." Needless to say, a surf n' turf dinner took place amongst all the Fleet Street faithful. The Burgundy and butter flew like wine and butter, and a good time was had by all. My story is but a sliver of time in the greater scope of this evening (last night.)
So there I was.
I was sitting on the back porch, practicing guitar, enjoying the melding of scents and white Burgundy wine. I find myself practicing virtually every day now. I get irascible if I don't play; it's an out for me. Quite often, it's in the presence of my friends, and they tolerate it politely, often asking me to play "Stairway to Heaven" because they know I won't on principal. This evening, friends came and went on the porch, mostly to check on the steaks (the "turf" portion of our show.) As I was practicing, I notced I was drifting farther away from practice, and closer to free-form playing. I confirmed this a few minutes and a glass of wine later. I had indeed left the practice arena, and found myself purely playing. Bliss.
For any musicians out there, they know what I am talking about. The feeling when you are just can do no wrong. Everything you play makes sense. You play with a speed and clarity unrivaled in the annals of the universe. Unfortunately, it only lasts a short time.
I had sex three times last night alone, I was so fired up. (And I do mean "alone.")
Just kidding, it was only twice. But I did promptly walk into the house and say "boobies."

Thursday, July 15, 2004

The Return of the Thingie.

I had a much better title than that originally, I swear. I managed to completely forget it as I was writing it (or not writing it, as it were.) I intend to keep my promise of regailing you with tales from a broad, or abroad, whichever you prefer. But for the moment, I write for a different purpose.
I write to welcome.
Specifically, I write to welcome New Character to the blog universe. Everybody say "hi, New Character!" (No, I'm serious. Do it. Do it now. Do it now or I will come and cut you.)
So, a hearty and hale welcome to the newest member (hee hee, I said "member") New Character.
May your blogs always be interesting and frequent, lest your fifteen minutes of fame dwindle prematurely.
Oh yeah, before I forget, she emailed me today and said,
"I am notorious for being bendy. It's good. It's part of my seduction routine. What do you prefer? Oh, this day is so much better now that we've had some dirty exploits. Will you let me sit?"
We're going out for drinks Saturday night.

Monday, July 12, 2004


Sup, my little monkeys? It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, as you may be surmising as you read this, The Silver Fox and I are back from our kooky, kah-razy road trip spanning over two thousand miles of tarmac-and-curveball mayhem. Oh, the stories I have. I'll be firing 'em up shortly enough. Oh, and make sure to check out The Silver Fox's blog for his takes on the madness (link below).

See ya soon, bitches.

Friday, July 02, 2004

It's time...

The Silver Fox flies in tonight, and our tempestuous sojurn begins shortly thereafter. I have been looking forward to this for some time now.

I should probably pack.

Oh, and Marlon Brando died today. A pity. But then again, that's what happens when you pat Frank Sinatra condesceningly on the head in Guys & Dolls. Yep, everyone who has ever touched Sinatra is already dead, or will die someday.

Think about it.

Twisted Irresistibunny

Sup, chickenf*ckers?

Well, it's Friday.

Your first inclination might be to assume this to be like any other Friday. But something seems...different. Somewhere in the primal occipiatal lobe of yer brain a twitch happens; that twitch grows into the realization something is different. But you can't put yer finger on it. You swim in a sea of incoherent thoughts and jumbled data, looking furitively for that one kernal of context that will trigger an inexorable chain reaction leading to critical mass, and ultimately, knowledge of the difference.

If I may, I'd like to save you some time and some precious brain power. Because you won't think of it. You will try until you are blue in the face. But you won't get it. Brando just passed on, and even he didn't get it. What is it? What is that damn difference that proves to be a most elusive adversary? Want to know what the difference is?

Want me to tell you?

Today, I'm faster.

Yep. Faster.

Today I have the speed of a cobra with the speed of two cobras.

That's pretty darn fast.

Why am I moving faster? Good question. I move faster because I am the Twisted Irresisibunny, and Twisted Irresistibunnies simply move faster.

I move faster because I move now with more purpose than ever before.

I'm starting to get it.

Thursday, July 01, 2004

Just for laughs...

I have the best friends in the world. I really do. And, I am fortunate to have top-shelf friends in both Boston and Annapolis. Here's why; following is a transcript I received from a friend after inviting him to a BBQ last week.

"Sorry I never called back with a response to your bbq. I’m guessing by now you’ve picked up on the fact that I can’t make it. If you haven’t, well, I’m here now to tell you that I can’t make it. I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship..all the good times, the bad, the ups the downs and so forth.

I will however be attending tonight’s festivities whatever they end up being. See you on the stoop of your apt around 8ish. I’ll be the one holding onto the telephone pole crapping on your sidewalk yelling, “It isn’t real! It can’t be real, this poop I feel!!!”

-Married Jonny"

How do you not laugh?

43 pick up lines authored or approved by me.

Gentlemen, start your engines.

Note: I am NOT inferring I wrote all of these. I wrote SOME of these. Once again, I did NOT claim to have written all of these, just SOME of these. So, yes I know, some you will have seen before.

LADIES: please do NOT read this, as I might try these on you someday. If you DO read this, feel free to ask me to recite some to you. It'll be fun. You'll already know the line, and you can be subject to my irresisable charms and almost frightening eye contact.

Here we go!

43 pick up lines authored or okayed by me personally

1. (Go up to a girl and say) Fat penguin. (What?) Oh, I just needed something to break the ice.
2. My magical watch says you aren’t wearing panties. Oh, you are? Hmmm. It must be an hour fast.
3. I’m not actually this tall.
4. Can I take your picture to show Santa what I want for Christmas?
5. The only thing your eyes haven’t told me is your name.
6. Would you help me find my puppy? I think he went into that cheap motel room.
7. You look like my first wife. (How many times have you been married?) Never.
8. Excuse me Miss, but you owe me a drink. (Why?) I dropped mine when I looked at you.
9. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
10. Do you mind if I flirt with you?
11. But, I’m a doctor!
12. I’m an organ donor. Need anything?
13. That’s a nice little nothing you’re almost wearing.
14. (Approach a girl, and open your mouth as if to speak. Then close it. Open it again and wait. Eventually, she will comment) I can’t think of a single line, but I just wanted to talk to you.
15. (Walk up to a girl, look into her eyes, look around the room, and return to her eyes) How do you do that? (What?) How do you make the room spin like that?
16. Am I making an ass of myself? (Yes.) Can it be your ass? WOOHAH!
17. If you were a dinosaur, you’d be a hottieasaurus.
18. I believe I speak for most men when I say, “hello.”
19. My doctor scheduled me for an MRI. He thinks I have a magnetic personality.
20. Are you Jamaican? (Why?) Cause you is Jamaican me kah-razy!
21. You know what winks and screws like a tiger?
22. Do I look like the kind of guy that would like to get to know you better?
23. I need to take your temperature. (Why?) Because you are looking mighty hot.
24. Black and white. Peanut butter and jelly. Me and you.
25. The missing teeth just leave more room for your tongue.
26. I have an imaginary cat.
27. Let’s see, I’ve got the F, the C, and the K. All I’m missing is U.
28. That’s a beautiful shirt. Can I talk you out of it?
29. Hey, it’s not my fault I fell in love; it was you who tripped me.
30. If I asked you for sex, would your answer be the same as the answer to this question?
31. What’s a nice girl like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?
32. If I had a nickel for every gorgeous woman like you I see, I’d have a nickel.
33. Is it hot in here or is it just you?
34. I don’t know if you are beautiful or not yet; I haven’t gotten past your eyes.
35. Do you know how much polar bears weigh? Just enough to break the ice.
36. You bring new meaning to the word “edible.”
37. Would you meet me on the pier at midnight? I’d like to see what is more beautiful, you or the moonlight.
38. If you were the last woman on earth, and I was the last man on earth, we could do it in public.
39. You’re my compass; I’m lost without you.
40. I’m an author, and I’m currently writing a phone book. Can I have your number?
41. (Approach a girl standing alone) If he doesn’t show up, I’ll be right over here.
42. Why do you think they call it a “pick-up” truck?
43. I’m a magical being. Take off your bra.
44. You’d look hot in a Raggedy Ann wig.
45. Falling for you would be a very short trip.
46. Do you know why the sky is so gray? All the blue is in your eyes.
47. I’m going back to my place to make out. Care to join me?
48. (Ask a woman) “If you could have a year of perfect bliss, but have no memory of it, would you take it?” (If she says yes, lean in and whisper in her ear) “Well, you’ve already had it. You were wonderful.”
49. All you have to do is breathe, I’ll take care of the rest.
50. Stand back! I’m a doctor. (point to someone) You, call an ambulance. I’ll loosen her clothes.
51. Do you know why you should masturbate with these two fingers? (hold up any two) Because they’re mine!
52. What was that? (What?) That sound. (What sound?) The sound of my heart breaking.
53. Uh oh. My parents met in a place like this. Let’s get the hell out of here.
54. If we cut your arms off, you look just like Venus di Milo.

Ok, I gave you 54. What can I say? I'm a nice guy (Eddie.)

New Character challenge...

In fairness to New Character, there are some corrections I need to make regarding earlier postings with any reference to New Character. Sorry, babe, I meant no offense. So, here we go.

a. We, in fact, ate at a Lebanese restaurant, not Indian as I preveously alluded to.

b. New Character does not like girl-on girl...only. It is merely another color on her palate of carnal delights from which she can choose.

Now, the challenge. New Character inadvertantly divulged her middle initial to be "G." When I asked her what it stood for, she asked me what I hoped it stood for. (I know, I know; she'll learn.)

What I hope New Character's "G" stands for

1. Good God, that'll never fit!
2. Good God, how did you ever get it to fit?
3. Gotta get it on!
4. Give it up...TO MYSELF!
5. Goin' DOWNTOWN!
6. Gentle, rolling fjords
7. Gonna get me some Adam!

Sigh. The likelihood I am even close to it is staggeringly small. If only I had some good pick-up lines...

or do I?

Squeaky clean and dirty as hell.

Hello, my little monkeys. Hope your day is going well. For me, this day marks the end of quarterly inventory (yahoo!) Hectic, and more hectic.

So what's new?

Well, as you may have noticed, there is a new character among us; at the moment, the new character is referred to as New Character, until such time that I can think of a proper referent. As we also know, New Character digs chick-on-chick action. This, coupled with New Character's witty banter (which never dissapoints), superior intellect, and quick wit, moves New Character into the top 100 of my list of favorite people.

But wait, there's more...

I came to work this morning to discover a new email! New Character had seen fit to grace my email box! I'm sure you can understand my shaking with anticipation at the prospect of New Charater's divulgence of more preferences.

And I was not dissapointed.

"If you're trying to make me...then you should have my great rack."


"I have a feeling...I'm egging you on."

Hello, top 75.