Down here below the 30th Parallel, spring has been in high gear for the last month and a half. Should I be up north about this time, I would be getting ready for my annual trip to the doctor to stock up on allergy medication and most likely schedule my first visit to get antibiotics because of a sinus infection. yeah, I got them every year, just like clockwork. it wouldn't be but two or three weeks after things come into bloom -- fresh cut grass was the worst -- and my frontal sinuses right behind my forehead would plug up tighter than duck's ass. And the only -- the ONLY -- medication that would work was Sinutab. "But Ernie, what about..." Stop. Over the counter, prescription, homeopathic, I've tried them all. Sinutab was the ONLY thing that worked, period. It got so bad that I was considering surgery to Roto-Rooter my head (with awesome video). So I hope I don't fuck up my karma or anything but ever since I've moved to Florida? Nothing. No allergies, no sinusitis, no nothing. Well, that's not true, I have to pop the occasional Clariton maybe once or twice a year, but that's it. Well, that a fucking cats. Oh, and even though their logos are quite similar I'm pretty sure this girl isn't a Black Hawks fan, but a Redskins fan based upon the poster on her wall.
Some people believe that when you sell your soul to the devil, he actually extracts it from the back of your head. That little bit of trivia mixed with a bandaid and a ghastly yellow glow have led many people to suspect that the briefcase in Pulp Fiction held nothing other than the very soul of Marcellus Wallace. But nope, turns out that's not true. The truth is much less exciting than that. Tarantino's co-writer, Roger Avary, says that when they wrote the script for Pulp Fiction, it was diamonds. Just plain old diamonds. Why didn't they just show that? Because Tarantino had just used a case of diamonds as a major plot device in Reservoir Dogs, and he and Avary agreed that it was "too boring and predictable" to do that again. So they decided not to show them, thus giving the whole thing an air of mystery.
Good Christ, this woman has some ugly red glasses. Someone should tell her.
Hey Ernie, I know you are a confirmed bachelor, so you don't have to go through the hell that is remaining cool during your wife's pregnancy (no matter what, don't freak out and tell her you want to play with the huge boobs she gets while knocked up- they are NOT for playing). As this is our 2nd, it's much easier this time to remember not say 'jesus you ass is getting huge'. She made me sell the Vette. No kidding- convertible 2005 C6 in bright red with a 6 speed manual, gone, for telling her that. I can, however, guarantee how you can piss off every single person under 40, most in their 50's, and every single cousin you have regardless of age. Just choose not to find out the sex until the baby is born. This is our 2nd and everyone is just up in arms again that we don't know the sex nor are we going to find out. As a 37 year old man, I love the fact that this is a 100% genuine mystery in life until that little pooper is born. Everything else in live is a given- death, taxes, someday needing viagra, and that martini's should be made with potato vodka and [WITHOUT] blue cheese olives. But this is the best surprise there is, and it's ever better that everyone we know is going just plain nuts about the baby. I can't tell you how many times I hear 'but am I supposed to get blue or pink'? Jesus fucking christ, there are more than 2 colors in this world. Don't believe me? Give a 2 year old a blue and a green crayon and they will proudly display the 100's of colors that can be made on your freshly painted living room walls. Oh, and take it from someone who owned an Irish pub and had all 10 bartenders show them how to make martinis- if done correctly, a vodka martini can be perfect. I didn't like them until I went to a superb steakhouse in Las Vegas called Hugo's Cellar where the waitstaff has all been there 20 years and the martinis are simply to die for. Even the wife orders them there, but no where else. Mark
Correctimundo, bro. No roly-poly, chubby-cheeked, shit machines for me. I'm perfectly happy in my own little Man Town down here, so I'll leave that shit to you and Dexter. Not unless say, someone like Clémence Poésy shows up. She's a French actress and fashion model and is known for role as Fleur Delacour in the Harry Potter movies. And let me assure you, she is all grown up now (NSFW). I'd even let her slid her baby finger around to stimulate my nether opening.
So who sitting up high when the dust settled with Ragdoll Parashooter? Why that would be Aaron with a whopping 21,380. Christ man, how long did you play that?
Oh, and just in time for you to get back to work after lunch. That Rebecca Black Friday video? Has 110,291,313 as of this morning. Times an average $1.40 CPM rate, means she's made over $154,407 just in banner ads alone, not including proceeds from the fucking idiots who actually bought her music. Enjoy the rest of your workday.
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