In the good old days, driving while stinko was FUNNY Yr Wonkette's little Write About All 34 Senate Races Project is in crunch time, kids: five weeks to the general election, and six Senate races in our great republic left to profile. Happily, there are several races where the outcome is clearly "Duh, the incumbent" and in several of those, "the incumbent is Duh" also applies. Take Yr Doktor Zoom's home state of Idaho, for instance. Please.
I disagree with all the well meaning helpful commenters. We sad fatties have to stick together, just like our fat, sweaty thighs stick to the leather chairs we manage to sit on without breaking, usually. We could even have a gathering of sad fatties if only we could fit through the doors. We could have regular weigh-ins, if only they had meeting rooms near the truck scales on the interstate. We could try not to wear those sweatpants, understanding that "no one needs to see that." We can co-write "The Sad Fatty's Diet," which would include "Spend lots of time writing comments on mommy blogs--great exercise for the wrists." (ps you aren't fat, or sad, or hateful.) (I am.)
Nah, you're funny and secretly a bit nice. And if that's your picture, you aren't fat. Now you're making me agree with the commenters. My only question is WHY fat takes so long to decrease? My body likes to hold on to it.
Except that's the actual word he used. Grabbing someone's vagina would be a really hard thing to do, as it's an internal organ...it would involve surgery. Perhaps the word you're looking for is "labia?"
I have a friend with epilepsy. Her neurologist would love to prescribe cannabanoid oil for her. We just passed medical marijuana, and the lege says it'll take two years to figure out who can grow it, who can sell it, and where people can buy it.
I disagree with all the well meaning helpful commenters. We sad fatties have to stick together, just like our fat, sweaty thighs stick to the leather chairs we manage to sit on without breaking, usually. We could even have a gathering of sad fatties if only we could fit through the doors. We could have regular weigh-ins, if only they had meeting rooms near the truck scales on the interstate. We could try not to wear those sweatpants, understanding that "no one needs to see that." We can co-write "The Sad Fatty's Diet," which would include "Spend lots of time writing comments on mommy blogs--great exercise for the wrists." (ps you aren't fat, or sad, or hateful.) (I am.)
Nah, you're funny and secretly a bit nice. And if that's your picture, you aren't fat. Now you're making me agree with the commenters. My only question is WHY fat takes so long to decrease? My body likes to hold on to it.
There's a song to help: https://www.youtube.com/wat...
Except that's the actual word he used. Grabbing someone's vagina would be a really hard thing to do, as it's an internal organ...it would involve surgery. Perhaps the word you're looking for is "labia?"
His mom's name was Ono.
"It's spelled Luxury Yacht, but it's pronounced Throat wobbler mangrove."
He's a very silly man, and I'm not going to interview him!
Remember a day or so ago, someone was asking us to come up with a slogan for 2016? I think we just found the winner!
2016: The undorsement year.
Let the circular firing commence.
That would still sound like crap-oh.
They ARE pretty adorable!
That's very sweet of you, DDV. Thank you so much!
Neither am I.
I have a friend with epilepsy. Her neurologist would love to prescribe cannabanoid oil for her. We just passed medical marijuana, and the lege says it'll take two years to figure out who can grow it, who can sell it, and where people can buy it.
Jesus Fucking Christ on a Cracker!
And he stood up to the Joker.
Let me go shed all my crocodile tears.