No spoken words
Blue Crack Supplier
It was too good not to mention as many times as I could.
Preach on Martha! I agree. Well, sort of. No, I agree.
It was too good not to mention as many times as I could.
You know I think you're the shit and all, Irvine. I do, but I will not watch that show. I need a shower from just watching the preview.
You know what puts a smile on your face after a tough day at work? Having to pull your bicycle over to the edge of the sidewalk to let a friendly dog and his sweaty, young, lean, tanned, half-naked master run by you.
That's what.
but any woman who signs up for any Housewives show knows exactly what they are getting into.
I have to say, as big as a U2 fan I am, I really couldn't care less about their investments.
I'd say I care more about whether or not Bono gets toejam than I do about what he does with his gajillions.
Also, there's just too damned much to see in Ireland. Maybe I'll just move there.
I'm going to start a U2 investment tribute group, and we'll buy tons of stock in idiotic things. Essentially, my goal is to become the best imitator of the worst investor in America.
My U2 dreams have usually involved concerts, and it's often something like they're playing at a small bar, and I can't see very well even though I'm right up front, because I forgot my contacts or glasses. Of course, in these dreams, my vision is always 10x worse than in real life.
though no trips to SoCal on the horizon so far,
you're gay.
you and me bothI miss Chicago
I've had dreams where I can't put my contact in because it's gigantic and there's no way it'll fit over my eye.
Oh, and also: WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
I'm in Chicago. Walking through O'Hare gave me flashbacks to the U2 gig. Good times... good times.
By the way, Irvine, I'm sorry if my comments yesterday about the show were rude.
Giordano's for lunch??
Nope. Good ol' home-cooked Polish food.
How could you skip thelasagnaoverrated pizza?
Because I can get deep dish pizza that is just as good in Berkeley at Zachary's. Plus, when your great aunt and uncle offer to cook you a Polish feast, you'd be a fool to turn it down.
A dog could offer me a half-chewed piece of meat and I'd like that better than the shit Giordano's serves.