Stats:
1.31 miles (2.10km)
12:14 mins
9:19 mins/mile
General feeling: pink elephants everywhere
Point of pain: brain... no... air
Sweat Volume: ~2.5 liters and still going
I wanted to just do a short run today (12 mins) and see if i could up the speed a bit.
well as you see i didn't. i blame that on rather poor ipod shuffling... Here is what i remember of what i had to listen to (and tell me if it would inspire you to run fast)
The Weakerthans (my Favorite Chords)
Railroad Jerk (sweet Librarian)
another Railroad Jerk song
a bit of Breadwinner (not that i don't love his music but you try running to a song called "Twang" anyway.. check out his blog.. its fucking hilarious, hopefully the booger will get off his ass and post more... The Histrionics of the Yes Man
Iron and Wine
and i think some Jack Johnson (i was starting to lose consciousness at this point)
anyway.. i blame it on my ipod and the fact i decided to run wearing glasses tongiht.. if you dont look fast you dont run fast.. you know?
8.30.2006
tastes like blue...: More Paint...
I want miso to paint more for me.
tastes like blue...: More Paint...
tastes like blue...: More Paint...
8.28.2006
like an antelope: Run 3
Stats:
1.76 miles (2.80km)
17:11 mins
9:44 mins/mile
General feeling: emphysemic death
Point of pain: full cardiovascular shutdown.
Sweat Volume: ~5.5 liters
Ugh.. I've been home for a couple hours now and i am still sweating.. maybe because i haven't had the energy to get up and turn on the air conditioning.
shite, i barely have energy to type but i was so proud that i actually ran for two weeks, i felt i had to brag a bit
or at least tell those who may have seen me out that yes, i did make it home alive.
i love my tattoo.
ha
1.76 miles (2.80km)
17:11 mins
9:44 mins/mile
General feeling: emphysemic death
Point of pain: full cardiovascular shutdown.
Sweat Volume: ~5.5 liters
Ugh.. I've been home for a couple hours now and i am still sweating.. maybe because i haven't had the energy to get up and turn on the air conditioning.
shite, i barely have energy to type but i was so proud that i actually ran for two weeks, i felt i had to brag a bit
or at least tell those who may have seen me out that yes, i did make it home alive.
i love my tattoo.
ha
8.27.2006
just in case i go missing
i was always scared s a child because i didn't feel like i had any identifying marks.
this would be an issue if i was abducted my some weirdo with rather low standards.
i could just see the milk carton now:
"average white kid lost. no identifying marks, ah well, who cares, there are plenty of average white kids"
ha, well abduct me now mother fucker!
kill me all you want... they'll be able to identify me now
by my tattoo
yeah.
in the words of an ex-girlfriend's father:
i've "permanently disfigured my body"
and i love it.
(okay, just the disfigured part is from him)
this would be an issue if i was abducted my some weirdo with rather low standards.
i could just see the milk carton now:
"average white kid lost. no identifying marks, ah well, who cares, there are plenty of average white kids"
ha, well abduct me now mother fucker!
kill me all you want... they'll be able to identify me now
by my tattoo
yeah.
in the words of an ex-girlfriend's father:
i've "permanently disfigured my body"
and i love it.
(okay, just the disfigured part is from him)
8.23.2006
lung function stops
Stats:
1.61 miles (2.58km)
15:50 mins
9:48 mins/mile
General feeling: Dizzy and coughing black shit
Point of pain: Lungs, brochial tubes
Sweat Volume: ~2.5 liters
oh god.
fuck inverting life.
this shit hurts
so i did my second run in three days, surprising myself in not giving up as quickly as most things that i start.
god.
so i am a bit disappointed because i ran a bit slower than my initial run but i blame that on the lack of smoking today and my undialated broncials..
now im going to drink the remainder of bourbon in the house and search for a hidden cigarette.
1.61 miles (2.58km)
15:50 mins
9:48 mins/mile
General feeling: Dizzy and coughing black shit
Point of pain: Lungs, brochial tubes
Sweat Volume: ~2.5 liters
oh god.
fuck inverting life.
this shit hurts
so i did my second run in three days, surprising myself in not giving up as quickly as most things that i start.
god.
so i am a bit disappointed because i ran a bit slower than my initial run but i blame that on the lack of smoking today and my undialated broncials..
now im going to drink the remainder of bourbon in the house and search for a hidden cigarette.
8.22.2006
bored and dying
all I've been looking for for the last few months was some time by myself
and here i have it.
and i'm bored and unproductive
not even playing guitar.
i think that's why i'm blogging again.
sad or inspiring, eh?
i think i'll drink a bottle of bourbon.. there is a chance that may make the coming posts more interesting.
and here i have it.
and i'm bored and unproductive
not even playing guitar.
i think that's why i'm blogging again.
sad or inspiring, eh?
i think i'll drink a bottle of bourbon.. there is a chance that may make the coming posts more interesting.
yet boobs are off limits?
Fuck.
i'm watching house now as there is little else on and i cannot bear to be active as i think it destroys the soul and
they just showed a testicle explode on tv
well they didnt show the testicle but they showed
the doctors face when it exploded all over it.
hey. at least life doesn't seem so bad anymore
i'm watching house now as there is little else on and i cannot bear to be active as i think it destroys the soul and
they just showed a testicle explode on tv
well they didnt show the testicle but they showed
the doctors face when it exploded all over it.
hey. at least life doesn't seem so bad anymore
like a fluffy punching bag
it was pointed out to me this weekend that there is something about me...
(usually the beginnign of a compliment)
that makes people want to hit me.
that's ludicris you may say
you may not know me.
the best reason i've heard for such a quality is the unqualified statement:
"well, you are an instigator"
also,
"your face just needs to be punched"
to me this may be a bit more understandable if it was strictly a testosterone fueled repeated instance.
but it's not
miso just left me and jersey and i have
bruises
bite marks
and a slight limp that can only be explained by an ill timed comment involving her capital knockers.
alas.
i guess i could keep my mouth shut more often
or filter some of what comes out my mouth
but then i wouldnt be me
i'd be this other person
this other healthier, unbruised
person.
fuck that.
go ahead
punch me
(usually the beginnign of a compliment)
that makes people want to hit me.
that's ludicris you may say
you may not know me.
the best reason i've heard for such a quality is the unqualified statement:
"well, you are an instigator"
also,
"your face just needs to be punched"
to me this may be a bit more understandable if it was strictly a testosterone fueled repeated instance.
but it's not
miso just left me and jersey and i have
bruises
bite marks
and a slight limp that can only be explained by an ill timed comment involving her capital knockers.
alas.
i guess i could keep my mouth shut more often
or filter some of what comes out my mouth
but then i wouldnt be me
i'd be this other person
this other healthier, unbruised
person.
fuck that.
go ahead
punch me
8.21.2006
First Run Stats
1.40 miles (2.25 km)
12.02 minutes
8:35 mins/mile
General feeling: death
Point of pain: Lungs
Sweat Volume: ~ 1.5 liters
12.02 minutes
8:35 mins/mile
General feeling: death
Point of pain: Lungs
Sweat Volume: ~ 1.5 liters
talk about inverting life
jesus.. pant.. sweat...
yeah.. i'm inverting life a bit again..
meet m, a perpetually scrawny, dietary degenerate smoker.
26 having spent the last 8 years getting his only real exercise walking from bar to bar in philadelphia.
he used to be a runner/pseudo athlete: cross country, soccer, track and skiing... but then he met alcohol and work... damn it seems like a lot of effort to go outside when you have a bottle of bourbon and a comfy chair that welcomes you with open arms after 12 hour days. well then the days became 10 hour days and then sometimes even nine hour days.
guess who never resumed exercising.
and drank more
and smoked more.
yeah.
well it never bothered me being skinny and out of shape as long as i was skinny and still possessed what has been termed "freakish upper body strength" and Adonis like "jew legs"...
well then i moved to jersey.
after being 175 for the parts of my adult life that i have not blacked out i suddenly weighed 190. i know, femme.
but i noticed a gut and looked at my 30 something coworkers that were prolly always that skinny guy and now are still skinny guys with peaceable like protrusions between their man tits and drooping belt.
shit.
not me
so i bought the little wiped running dangle (nothing like technology and new toys to inspire me right?)
yeah, that will make me exercise (i think i bought it mid July)
well i got it home, all amped to run and um.
well i don't own running shoes. Just three pairs of Vans in various states of disrepair, paratrooper boots (don't think it didn't cross my mind) and some work shoes... fuck
bought shoes.
Got shoes and was all amped to run.
got avian flu (or if you believe the commie doctor that saw me "strep throat").
well now i'm healthy (yes miso, HEALTHY, as in NON-CONTAGIOUS) and i decided to run.
i used to run 10-15k a few times a week and had a consistent sub 7 minute mile (hey, i was always a sprinter.. anythign over 400m was not meant to be run competitively)
yeah.. lets just say i am not running sub sevens.
i'll start noting my progress here just for you guys that read it to laugh at and mock while happily tapping the ash off your oh so wonderful cigarettes...
mmm.. i think i'll start a nice camel filter.
yeah.. i'm inverting life a bit again..
meet m, a perpetually scrawny, dietary degenerate smoker.
26 having spent the last 8 years getting his only real exercise walking from bar to bar in philadelphia.
he used to be a runner/pseudo athlete: cross country, soccer, track and skiing... but then he met alcohol and work... damn it seems like a lot of effort to go outside when you have a bottle of bourbon and a comfy chair that welcomes you with open arms after 12 hour days. well then the days became 10 hour days and then sometimes even nine hour days.
guess who never resumed exercising.
and drank more
and smoked more.
yeah.
well it never bothered me being skinny and out of shape as long as i was skinny and still possessed what has been termed "freakish upper body strength" and Adonis like "jew legs"...
well then i moved to jersey.
after being 175 for the parts of my adult life that i have not blacked out i suddenly weighed 190. i know, femme.
but i noticed a gut and looked at my 30 something coworkers that were prolly always that skinny guy and now are still skinny guys with peaceable like protrusions between their man tits and drooping belt.
shit.
not me
so i bought the little wiped running dangle (nothing like technology and new toys to inspire me right?)
yeah, that will make me exercise (i think i bought it mid July)
well i got it home, all amped to run and um.
well i don't own running shoes. Just three pairs of Vans in various states of disrepair, paratrooper boots (don't think it didn't cross my mind) and some work shoes... fuck
bought shoes.
Got shoes and was all amped to run.
got avian flu (or if you believe the commie doctor that saw me "strep throat").
well now i'm healthy (yes miso, HEALTHY, as in NON-CONTAGIOUS) and i decided to run.
i used to run 10-15k a few times a week and had a consistent sub 7 minute mile (hey, i was always a sprinter.. anythign over 400m was not meant to be run competitively)
yeah.. lets just say i am not running sub sevens.
i'll start noting my progress here just for you guys that read it to laugh at and mock while happily tapping the ash off your oh so wonderful cigarettes...
mmm.. i think i'll start a nice camel filter.
i don't think they are obese. . .
So miso came down this previous weekend to visit and party and play.
It was quite wonderful and I had to wonder how I let her stay so far for so long.
And it was her birthday
I gave her a once in a lifetime experience unless you live on the high seas
She got to drink a tequila sunrise while shaking the hand of a honest to god midget, while complimenting a Pirate’s Koi tattoo and simultaneously staring at one of natures most glorious handlebar mustaches…
Hizity-hizot
Anyway, not feeling particularly funny (as this weekend had a rather dangerously high alcohol/sleep ratio) I thought I’d send a note out about a rather interesting group of people (http://www.theoriginalwhatsforlunch.blogspot.com) I hope to be cavorting with in the near future as they seem to have just the right amount of brain damage (said in a loving way) and have all their priorities ranked appropriately (from what I can understand of aforementioned blog).
Here is the premise:
1) I like food!
2) You like food!
3) Sex is good!
4) Alcohol is good!
5) Hangovers blow!
6) Wanna Talk?
Sounds good to me. Its kinda like someone took my id and splattered it all over a computer screen and mixed just a tiny bit of superego in there.
Alas.. checkout the haiku post (http://theoriginalwhatsforlunch.blogspot.com/2006/08/lunch-poets-society.html) as it is my first attempt and breaking into this tight knit society of deadly assassins bent on world domination…
Also, I’ll be humorous later.. maybe tonight and exaggerate some funny stuff about miso’s visit this weekend.
cheers
8.20.2006
8.11.2005
glenda is not a good witch
Portion of email from my buddy miso:
good news for miso....smelly old guy downstairs is moving
out...hurray!!!! no more gangster movies at full blast at 3 am
scaring me out of bed because i hear gunfire, no more stolen bikes, no
more feral cats on the porch, no more pisshead 9 yr olds knocking on
my door at all hours, and no more checking to see if the old guy with
pneumonia and diabetes is dead to avoid dead old guy stench from
drifting through the heat ducts!!! hurray!!!!
my reply:
yay departure of crazy old guy.. maybe you'll have a rock band move in down stairs or some crazy old lady that thinks you are her daughter even though her daughter died from choking on a trisket when she was six and anyway because she thinks youa re her daughter she leaves everything she owns to you which is surprisingly rather substantial.. you see she is the widow of the guy who invented midol (and god knows what a necessity that is to our society) and regardless of many male's refusal to gointo a red apple or stewarts to pick it up for their current sex bunny or female acquaintance the product has sold quite well over the years not to mentionthe fact that the old lady is rather crazy, having lived through the depression and all and being forced to lick lead based wall paint for simple sustenance which wall paint is rather high in surprisingly primarily due to the shear amount of insect fecal matter that accumulates on them, especially during the depression where vacuums were but a distant dream.
ah dream dream dream..
alas she is crazy and lives on a diet of trisket and peanut butter and is known to gnaw down two or three civil war figurines (you see, they are made out of lead and i guess all those years of chewing baseboards created some long strange addiction) a day.
pooooor glenda, you see her name is glenda which was a major kick in the head when the wizard of oz first be came popular you see.. because she wasn't a mean person but in no means was good (sexually, she was a hellcat, even in old age having done the horizontal mambo with the entire buena vista social club and a bit of in the bed disco with the beegees immediately after the gogos... (she has a weird perversion with repetition and rhyming.. Don't ask me she's crazy)) so when the wizard of oz came out all her acquaintances and parole officers began to refer to her as "Good Witch Gelenda" and boy that pissed her off.. well it wasn't her fault but the parole officer did have it coming, he did call her G Witchie Poo, and he did get to see his internal organs become external which once again, he did deserve. Alas while in court for suspected murder which of course could not be proved as the jury was made of complete morons and glenda (at one time before gravity took over (which was probably around the time that she got Rush Limbaugh addicted to pain killers in response to a rather intimate injury from an intimate position that no one of their age should be video taped in) had a huge rack) while leaving the courthouse started making out with a guy in the hallway because he wore a name tag that said Hello my Name is {heart}... she thought hat was cool and he was wearing a rather thick layer of carmex and she was not and her lips were dry and incidentally did i mention that he invented midol? well he is dead now and she is not but she is abit crazy and is moving in below you so that will be great because when she kicks off due to a rather unfortunate event involving singing in the rain you will assume all of her assets and finally get a chance to sleep for an entire night without worrying if there is someone in your closet (because you've hired Hugo the large Trinadadian immigant to watch the door .. at least thats what you think he is doing.. he doesnt speak much english but he does walk around with out a shirt on a lot and that gives you pleanty of opportunity to chuckle inwardly at his disformed third nipple which has an uncanny resemblance to the State of Idaho.. which makes you laugh more... idaho... i da ho.. hahahah)
well good luck with glenda and hugo and Hello My name is {heart}.. please dont forget me in yoru new found glory
--m
no i don't do drugs
good news for miso....smelly old guy downstairs is moving
out...hurray!!!! no more gangster movies at full blast at 3 am
scaring me out of bed because i hear gunfire, no more stolen bikes, no
more feral cats on the porch, no more pisshead 9 yr olds knocking on
my door at all hours, and no more checking to see if the old guy with
pneumonia and diabetes is dead to avoid dead old guy stench from
drifting through the heat ducts!!! hurray!!!!
my reply:
yay departure of crazy old guy.. maybe you'll have a rock band move in down stairs or some crazy old lady that thinks you are her daughter even though her daughter died from choking on a trisket when she was six and anyway because she thinks youa re her daughter she leaves everything she owns to you which is surprisingly rather substantial.. you see she is the widow of the guy who invented midol (and god knows what a necessity that is to our society) and regardless of many male's refusal to gointo a red apple or stewarts to pick it up for their current sex bunny or female acquaintance the product has sold quite well over the years not to mentionthe fact that the old lady is rather crazy, having lived through the depression and all and being forced to lick lead based wall paint for simple sustenance which wall paint is rather high in surprisingly primarily due to the shear amount of insect fecal matter that accumulates on them, especially during the depression where vacuums were but a distant dream.
ah dream dream dream..
alas she is crazy and lives on a diet of trisket and peanut butter and is known to gnaw down two or three civil war figurines (you see, they are made out of lead and i guess all those years of chewing baseboards created some long strange addiction) a day.
pooooor glenda, you see her name is glenda which was a major kick in the head when the wizard of oz first be came popular you see.. because she wasn't a mean person but in no means was good (sexually, she was a hellcat, even in old age having done the horizontal mambo with the entire buena vista social club and a bit of in the bed disco with the beegees immediately after the gogos... (she has a weird perversion with repetition and rhyming.. Don't ask me she's crazy)) so when the wizard of oz came out all her acquaintances and parole officers began to refer to her as "Good Witch Gelenda" and boy that pissed her off.. well it wasn't her fault but the parole officer did have it coming, he did call her G Witchie Poo, and he did get to see his internal organs become external which once again, he did deserve. Alas while in court for suspected murder which of course could not be proved as the jury was made of complete morons and glenda (at one time before gravity took over (which was probably around the time that she got Rush Limbaugh addicted to pain killers in response to a rather intimate injury from an intimate position that no one of their age should be video taped in) had a huge rack) while leaving the courthouse started making out with a guy in the hallway because he wore a name tag that said Hello my Name is {heart}... she thought hat was cool and he was wearing a rather thick layer of carmex and she was not and her lips were dry and incidentally did i mention that he invented midol? well he is dead now and she is not but she is abit crazy and is moving in below you so that will be great because when she kicks off due to a rather unfortunate event involving singing in the rain you will assume all of her assets and finally get a chance to sleep for an entire night without worrying if there is someone in your closet (because you've hired Hugo the large Trinadadian immigant to watch the door .. at least thats what you think he is doing.. he doesnt speak much english but he does walk around with out a shirt on a lot and that gives you pleanty of opportunity to chuckle inwardly at his disformed third nipple which has an uncanny resemblance to the State of Idaho.. which makes you laugh more... idaho... i da ho.. hahahah)
well good luck with glenda and hugo and Hello My name is {heart}.. please dont forget me in yoru new found glory
--m
no i don't do drugs
6.04.2005
ovarian Tribulations
i wouldnt trade my testicles for the world...
brit came in last night through some mircle (she was supposed to leave boston at 730pm and i got a call at 740 saying that the flight was delayed and chances are she would be rescheduled for the 1am flight (opportunity to get fubared?? YES!) but then she called frantically relaying that she was getting on a plane only 20 mins late so all was saved) anyway.. we talked (thats what we do) and drank copious amounts of cheap french wine (which we are also known for--and as an aside (because there are not enough parenthetical references in my blogs) i heart george deboeuf.. the mofer makes great wines chuggable... his beaujoiules (i took spanish okay?!) is to die for or from.. soo good) (note i forgot how many closing parens are requisit now so foff!)))))))
anyway point of blog: ovaries... they make you do weird things... here is a girl self described as a lazy mofer that is willing to spend upwards of 30 mins applying a small country worth of face additives... seriously must have been ten bottles of this shit.. it made me dizzy... and this is prior to going to bed.. i mean once i decide that i am going to pass the f out i go to said area of sleeping and pass the f out.. i mean, i cannot be bothered to take out my contacts and there she is applying antigravity creme (i swear! there is shit labeled "anti-gravity creme".. very sci fi eh?) at three in the morning after the ingestion of a couple bottles of wine... now she is back in the bathroom doing it all over again!
yeah, i have an extra 2 hrs in my day that i can dedicate to appying things that are dissapearing into my skin... i've rarely spend this much time making up myself for halloween!
argfuck..
its still hilarious..
but my tummy is rumbly and i am afraid i will be waiting for another 6 layers of unidentified substance to be applied to her face before we're allowed to venture forth to eat...
sweet christ...
damn.. i forgot about hair drying..
maybe i should just make dinner reservations now..
(this blog is dedicated to people who wake up beautiful like myself (ie throw on deoderant and some tooth scrubbing and are immediately ready to grab life by the gonads))
brit came in last night through some mircle (she was supposed to leave boston at 730pm and i got a call at 740 saying that the flight was delayed and chances are she would be rescheduled for the 1am flight (opportunity to get fubared?? YES!) but then she called frantically relaying that she was getting on a plane only 20 mins late so all was saved) anyway.. we talked (thats what we do) and drank copious amounts of cheap french wine (which we are also known for--and as an aside (because there are not enough parenthetical references in my blogs) i heart george deboeuf.. the mofer makes great wines chuggable... his beaujoiules (i took spanish okay?!) is to die for or from.. soo good) (note i forgot how many closing parens are requisit now so foff!)))))))
anyway point of blog: ovaries... they make you do weird things... here is a girl self described as a lazy mofer that is willing to spend upwards of 30 mins applying a small country worth of face additives... seriously must have been ten bottles of this shit.. it made me dizzy... and this is prior to going to bed.. i mean once i decide that i am going to pass the f out i go to said area of sleeping and pass the f out.. i mean, i cannot be bothered to take out my contacts and there she is applying antigravity creme (i swear! there is shit labeled "anti-gravity creme".. very sci fi eh?) at three in the morning after the ingestion of a couple bottles of wine... now she is back in the bathroom doing it all over again!
yeah, i have an extra 2 hrs in my day that i can dedicate to appying things that are dissapearing into my skin... i've rarely spend this much time making up myself for halloween!
argfuck..
its still hilarious..
but my tummy is rumbly and i am afraid i will be waiting for another 6 layers of unidentified substance to be applied to her face before we're allowed to venture forth to eat...
sweet christ...
damn.. i forgot about hair drying..
maybe i should just make dinner reservations now..
(this blog is dedicated to people who wake up beautiful like myself (ie throw on deoderant and some tooth scrubbing and are immediately ready to grab life by the gonads))
6.01.2005
the Red room and the Black dog
unrelated i assure you...
so i'm smoking in the courtyard for the uncountableth time and i notice something .. there is huge apt building about a block away, blocking out the majority of the western sky... and there, about 6 floors up is a window, emitting only red light... in retrospect i think i've noticed this a couple times before but it was now that i began thinking about what kinda person limits themselves to red light all the time... a photographer? a satanist? someone really fucking colorblind? i dont know.. im over it.. but it will prolly reappear in posts later as i come up with new possibilities of the deranged lunatic that lives a block away...
so my roommate is dogsitting this week.. which means i inherently am.. i like it.. ive always had dogs when i lived with my parents and now realize that maybe owning a dog is a life aspiration.. i had a funny commentary about owning dogs but im tiredly uncreative and i would rather limit this blogoogogog to humor.. (i know i've been failing at it recently, im pretty sure that brit's appearance will inspire me fully)..
alas alack write me back
so i'm smoking in the courtyard for the uncountableth time and i notice something .. there is huge apt building about a block away, blocking out the majority of the western sky... and there, about 6 floors up is a window, emitting only red light... in retrospect i think i've noticed this a couple times before but it was now that i began thinking about what kinda person limits themselves to red light all the time... a photographer? a satanist? someone really fucking colorblind? i dont know.. im over it.. but it will prolly reappear in posts later as i come up with new possibilities of the deranged lunatic that lives a block away...
so my roommate is dogsitting this week.. which means i inherently am.. i like it.. ive always had dogs when i lived with my parents and now realize that maybe owning a dog is a life aspiration.. i had a funny commentary about owning dogs but im tiredly uncreative and i would rather limit this blogoogogog to humor.. (i know i've been failing at it recently, im pretty sure that brit's appearance will inspire me fully)..
alas alack write me back
where oh Where?
on a drafting table
in a trunk
in a trunk
going 90 on 96
kitchen table
someone elses kitchen table
someone elses bathroom counter
while they are home
abandon tents in the woods
parking garage
in the middle of the day
behind a movie screen
during a movie
in cinderella's castle
in reseach forest's parking lot
--
¡♠U
kitchen table
someone elses kitchen table
someone elses bathroom counter
while they are home
abandon tents in the woods
parking garage
in the middle of the day
behind a movie screen
during a movie
in cinderella's castle
in reseach forest's parking lot
--
¡♠U
5.31.2005
5.27.2005
don't Subject me to this
so i am sitting here waiting for the weekend to arrive or some damn email, when i realized how funny my inbox is (not a sexual reference.. i have no inbox).. at least it is funny to me..
HILARIOUS...
anyway.. here is basically every subject in there except for a couple reminding me to pay loans or check out the newest products on amazon..
fuck amazon... anyway .. on with the show
languid lamentations of legume like lepers
cubist buddhist: not so soft
cliche but still a bit humorous
Behold her felate my boy big wang like a vacuum and get strained in the end
pretties.
fireflies and rattlesnakes
you should be a happy yogi
yogi happy yogi laugh
It's made of people
i love her somehow
quit eating the paste
our next guest can jump rope with his small intestines
201 reasons to be happy...
Re: Toast in the Post
Memorial Day Weekend Shyte in Saratoga Springs
that worked poorly via phone
the voices....oh man, the voices
you get work done?
sql as in where?!?
holy naked muppets, batman!!
bob barker very well may be a puppy licker
remembering what is lost
shovel glove
get me this job...
elegant elephants elope in eurasia
monday sunshine leads to tuesday rain
heaven.
bemused and confused and obtuse
leather Clad Eyelids
Plan for today and horror of yesterday and dreams of the day before
ta ta's
sleeping rather than talking
or this one.
yo soy un matador
Organic Soybean Petrochemical
a note from boobie-lovers annonymous...
An Excercise in Sanity
fuzzy wuzzy was an axe muderer.
New Market Intelligence Centers
Waste silly string rules.
dolt.
liptons cup o' noodles
mess-ed up mess-age
alive cabrone?
Beware of God, may bite
herbaceously longing
el lonely boy
Re: Your Friend Sent You a Lick From IFILM.com
i like pop tarts
You have one $595,000. Visit our website to claim (this is actually an email i composed to brit.. not your run of the mill spam)
running through the sprinklers is underrated.
Sansom Brown ALe
Now we know why pastey was cuddling with a certain person at seis de mayo
3 o clock 4 o clock...
tequila hates me
The Dark Crystal Muppets take over a 7/11
congenital Loss of Limbs
It's pretty much the best weekend
bike-a-thon to support liver eaters.
a bad hair day due to humidity?
Lemon-Lime Hillbillies
now who's the corporate tool
--
¡♠U
cubist buddhist: not so soft
cliche but still a bit humorous
Behold her felate my boy big wang like a vacuum and get strained in the end
pretties.
fireflies and rattlesnakes
you should be a happy yogi
yogi happy yogi laugh
It's made of people
i love her somehow
quit eating the paste
our next guest can jump rope with his small intestines
201 reasons to be happy...
Re: Toast in the Post
Memorial Day Weekend Shyte in Saratoga Springs
that worked poorly via phone
the voices....oh man, the voices
you get work done?
sql as in where?!?
holy naked muppets, batman!!
bob barker very well may be a puppy licker
remembering what is lost
shovel glove
get me this job...
elegant elephants elope in eurasia
monday sunshine leads to tuesday rain
heaven.
bemused and confused and obtuse
leather Clad Eyelids
Plan for today and horror of yesterday and dreams of the day before
ta ta's
sleeping rather than talking
or this one.
yo soy un matador
Organic Soybean Petrochemical
a note from boobie-lovers annonymous...
An Excercise in Sanity
fuzzy wuzzy was an axe muderer.
New Market Intelligence Centers
Waste silly string rules.
dolt.
liptons cup o' noodles
mess-ed up mess-age
alive cabrone?
Beware of God, may bite
herbaceously longing
el lonely boy
Re: Your Friend Sent You a Lick From IFILM.com
i like pop tarts
You have one $595,000. Visit our website to claim (this is actually an email i composed to brit.. not your run of the mill spam)
running through the sprinklers is underrated.
Sansom Brown ALe
Now we know why pastey was cuddling with a certain person at seis de mayo
3 o clock 4 o clock...
tequila hates me
The Dark Crystal Muppets take over a 7/11
congenital Loss of Limbs
It's pretty much the best weekend
bike-a-thon to support liver eaters.
a bad hair day due to humidity?
Lemon-Lime Hillbillies
now who's the corporate tool
--
¡♠U
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