I have questions, people. Are these questions important? Probably not.
Is the Space Shuttle really necessary?
Is anyone still impressed by this? I, for one, am RELIEVED when the Space Shuttle doesn't explode minutes after liftoff. How about using some of that money so little American children don't have to eat their own shit for dinner? And don't give me any bullshit about finding the cure for diseases out in space. We won't even fund stem-cell research in this backwoods-ass country-fuck of a nation because Billy Graham and the Pope don't approve of it. The one thing they agree on, and it fucks us right up the ass...
Why do some women insist on rockin' the Muffin Top?
The Muffin Top, for those unaware of this phenomenon, is when a too-tight shirt and low-rider jeans creates on a woman a visible layer of flesh that resembles the top of a muffin. I didn't name it, I'm just a mandated reporter. Please keep in mind, I'm not making fun of their bodies (a lot of these ladies have cute faces and nice tits, which is more than enough for me), I'm simply questioning their fashion decisions. Very few people on earth can pull this look off. I, for one, have a fat stomach and skinny arms, a winning combination to be sure, so I DON'T WEAR TANK TOPS. Ever. It is my gift to you, society. You're welcome.
Why do people who claim to love beer drink beer that tastes like piss?
If you say you love beer and then order a Miller Lite, you don't really love beer. Really, you have a taste for watered-down vaguely beeresque liquids; and that's okay. But you don't love beer.
Does the right woman for me even exist?
I'm of the belief that there is someone for everyone, but there's no guarantee on finding that someone. Maybe I walked right past her a million times in college, and since I never asked her out she was inside the crackhouse when it burned down instead of on a date with me. But for the whims of fate, I could have saved her from her addiction, or she would have turned me into a crackhead and my weight problems would be non-existent. This is all speculation on my part, but every year on Valentine's Day I pour out a 40 for my dead crackwhore soulmate, just in case.
Is the Space Shuttle really necessary?
Is anyone still impressed by this? I, for one, am RELIEVED when the Space Shuttle doesn't explode minutes after liftoff. How about using some of that money so little American children don't have to eat their own shit for dinner? And don't give me any bullshit about finding the cure for diseases out in space. We won't even fund stem-cell research in this backwoods-ass country-fuck of a nation because Billy Graham and the Pope don't approve of it. The one thing they agree on, and it fucks us right up the ass...
Why do some women insist on rockin' the Muffin Top?
The Muffin Top, for those unaware of this phenomenon, is when a too-tight shirt and low-rider jeans creates on a woman a visible layer of flesh that resembles the top of a muffin. I didn't name it, I'm just a mandated reporter. Please keep in mind, I'm not making fun of their bodies (a lot of these ladies have cute faces and nice tits, which is more than enough for me), I'm simply questioning their fashion decisions. Very few people on earth can pull this look off. I, for one, have a fat stomach and skinny arms, a winning combination to be sure, so I DON'T WEAR TANK TOPS. Ever. It is my gift to you, society. You're welcome.
Why do people who claim to love beer drink beer that tastes like piss?
If you say you love beer and then order a Miller Lite, you don't really love beer. Really, you have a taste for watered-down vaguely beeresque liquids; and that's okay. But you don't love beer.
Does the right woman for me even exist?
I'm of the belief that there is someone for everyone, but there's no guarantee on finding that someone. Maybe I walked right past her a million times in college, and since I never asked her out she was inside the crackhouse when it burned down instead of on a date with me. But for the whims of fate, I could have saved her from her addiction, or she would have turned me into a crackhead and my weight problems would be non-existent. This is all speculation on my part, but every year on Valentine's Day I pour out a 40 for my dead crackwhore soulmate, just in case.
24 Comments:
it's good to know that even though she's dead, you still care.
You are so romantic. I hope you aren't pouring out a 40 of Miller Lite. I think she was more of a Mickey's gal.
I think people who drink Miller Lite secretly drink their own urine.
Imports- thats the only way to go
And those that drink Miller Lite believe the space shuttle is worthwhile still.
eh, i like my miller lite. pants, give the urine a try (I never imagined i would have the opportunity to type that really...)
- my flatmate is impressed... he's just started collecting nasa badges... he's 32.
- it's only fair that the guy buying their services knows what they're getting in advance so they don't ask for their money back.
- so what they should say is "I love beer that tastes like piss"?
- she still lives, fear not young Todd, and I really don't think you'd be better off as a crack head!
*kisses*
Well dammit, now I want a beer.
Well dammit, now I want a warm glass of urine.
You know, this is the 2nd time in 2 days I've heard of the muffin top (yesterday was the first EVER time I heard of the muffin top). I'm quite glad I am not rockin' the muffin top because I would've been clueless to the hip slang the whole time. I'm really gettin' fuckin' old.
Thank goodness someone else in Louisville thinks "good beer" is good beer. I'm a red beer lover, myself.
What the drinkers of those who can't spell "light" beers don't understand is that after a month on a real beer, that other stuff might as well be water. It takes about 12 for me to notice the slightest buzz.
Cool Blog, Bro.
kendra,
sadly, I didn't care until she was dead.
lushy,
I pour whatever's on sale; I'm a mourner on a budget.
pants,
they have to drink urine to get the taste of Miller Lite out of their mouth.
udi,
yes, and I also like microbrews.
egan,
it could be a conspiracy.
cold hands,
that isn't a sentence I read everyday.
mbfic,
you are just cruel.
tlsd,
"young" Todd? Hahahahahahahaha.
molly,
you can't get more than one kind of beer at a bar? You don't go to the right bars.
brooke,
and the beer wants you.
pants,
it would be cooler if you just poured it on your t-shirt.
andi,
it's a muffin top revolution.
jason,
have you tried the Red beer at Cumberland Brews on Bardstown Road? If not, I highly recommend it.
They drink Miller Lite in the space shitt..shuttle to see if the same stuff comes out when they take a piss in space. Tests came out positive.
Women do the "muffin top" thing because, when fashions change, there are literally no options to be had. While men can always find the "basics" - loafers, oxford cloth shirts, black slacks - we women have to wear what-the-fuck we're given. Or opt for Land's End and mom jeans.
Let's put all of the muffin tops on the space shuttle and crash them into a crackhouse full of Meisterbrau.
That will solve everything.
Well dammit, now I want Pants.
I think I saw Egan outside my window last night.
I was there with our beloved Todd at the exact moment of the Shuttle Columbia's demise back in 1986. We were having lunch at a little eatery on the Univ. of Louisville campus (Masterston's) between classes. I saw the look of shock on his face, so I know why he still cringes in fear whenever a shuttle blasts off. Take another valium, brave warrior. It'll all be over soon.
Here's some serendipity for ya... I have lived in Texas now for about 8 years and when the last shuttle blew up and deposited its human and non-human remains over a wide swath of land, a lot of it landed about 10 miles from my house. When I found the end of a finger, I was sorely tempted to hightail it to the local Wendy's to claim my millions, but a man in Dustin Hoffman's biological suit was having none of it. I'm still bitter over the government denying me my rightful lottery winning, by the way.
I think you're right Pants. My real name is Eganopher if you need to contact the authorities.
Muffin top...he he. I love coming here to get edumacated...I live such a sheltered life. The skinniest of girls can't pull that off.
I'm with ya on the beer thing, the shuttle thing and I think you said something else.....oh yea, your soul mate may be a lot closer than you think!!
I had no idea what a muffin top was.
See how you stole my innocence?
Fritz,
I've seen pictures of you, and in not one of those pictures are you showing muffintop. Having it and showing it are two different things.
hanyee,
I KNEW IT!
violet,
don't knock Land's End, or I'll engulf you in my xxl tall squall jacket.
flounder,
I like some of the muffin top girls, man. Otherwise, good plan.
solethoughts,
booty do cracks me up.
egan,
don't we all?
trix,
your dad is brilliant, like his daughter.
pants,
I knew my "egan" costume would come in handy. Yes, I didn't move back to Louisville. I'm trolling about the Bay Area in my egan suit. Do you know how hard it is to dress up like someone who's shorter and much much thinner than you?
john,
yeah, I remember that day. The roast beef was unusually fatty.
egan,
thanks for taking the heat for me, man.
t-weed,
she needs to be even closer.
shannon,
I always wanted to steal your innocence, but not this way.
Muffin Top. Heh heh. You need a pic of that.
Great new blog name. I see you left out the KY altogether... Dry, like your humor.
Anytime man. Your old town is an interesting place.
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