Dear asshole,
That number that you keep calling? It’s our home phone number, not a fax number. Here at our home, it’s almost three in the morning. You, calling with your stinking junk fax at this hour, can go straight to hell. Asshole.
P.S. Junk faxes are illegal, asshole.
(I bit the very tip of my tongue straight off while eating dinner earlier.)
Going back for more surgery next Wednesday to clean this crap up.
Busted. They got it licked. What a bunch of boobs. Good thing they nipped it in the bud. And so on.
I’m three weeks post-op today, and still in a good deal of pain. It comes and goes; right now it’s pretty bad and the pain pills aren’t even taking the edge off. I don’t want to be on these damned pills forever, or even very much longer because they’re addictive and who the hell needs that? The whole bottom of my boob is like hamburger and at this point I’m just hoping that I’ll have something left after all this is over. Apparently the reduction basically killed the blood flow there, so it’s not healing right, so the tissue is dying and there’s also a great big dent.
It will be ironic if I end up having to have an implant after having had the reduction. This sucks.
People searching for the following things lately have made it to my web page:
nose fart real player
NEW YARK GAY MEN PICTURE
picture old guy breastfeeding monkey
The brother has complained loudly and vocally that the whole world thinks that he never followed through on the Astroworld promise in 1981. Well, he did follow through, that’s true. But I’d like to relate another story.
About 10 years ago I asked him if he and the kids would like to go to Sea World. He said sure, that sounded like fun. We went. He made me pay for me, him, and his two kids. Since I asked if he wanted to go, apparently I was responsible for the bill.
I don’t ask him anywhere, anymore.
(On the plus side, Foreigner was playing at Sea World that night. Nice blast from the past.)
The Immigrant Song, a la Viking kittens.
Hats of Meat. That’s hats, made out of meat.
The encyclical Simpsons reference guide.
New Jersey poet laureate writes anti-Semitic urban legend-based poem, gets booed, governor asks him to step down, he refuses. What a dingleberry.
I knew nationalized health care was good for something. The UK National Health Service is going to pass out vibrators to women suffering from sexual problems. Just look out for those recalled Rampant Rabbits.