I am so sorry for hardly posting lately. I have been traveling a lot for work (since November actually). A lot being every single week. Not all hotels have reliable Wifi or even Ethernet cables. Amazingly, the cheaper the hotel, the better the Internet connection and easier to sign on. Stay in a pricey hotel and the connections are as stable as Gary Busey on a bender.
Image on right via Raymi the Minx. Left image via TSG
Fourteen years is a long time to run a website and this site has gone through many changes over the years. As my job changed, so have my priorities. I’d like to see the site head in a more positive, mature direction, so from now on, the main focus of the site will no long be humor, but instead some more uplifting, wholesome subjects closer to my heart like eBay auctions and Facebook apps. I hope you welcome the changes.
Last night we were sitting at a crowded bar when this trampy woman with a bottle or two of cheap perfume on, smashed into Lizz in an effort to order a drink. Everything in the area soon took on her stench. I told Lizz that the woman smelled like “a whore rolled in blue cheese” which made her spew her drink. I thought it was a pretty good insult.
What’s your best? Not one you’ve heard, but the best one you’ve ever made up yourself.
It takes a real man to be a _______________.
I don’t mind when a person wants to shave their head bald, but if they have a head shape that makes them look like a cross between a concentration camp victim and an Idaho baker, I’d say reconsider.
UGGs still suck. Period. You still want to wear these monstrosities? I will hate you. And everyone else agrees with me.
Extreme combovers. Seriously. Die.
Image via Nicolette
So I went to get my hair cut. I go to a female stylist. Before you make any metrosexual jokes, let me explain my rationale. My belief is, I always go to a female stylist, preferably one that looks like the type of woman I’d want to sleep with. They are most likely to make me look like the type of man they would like to sleep with. If not, I at least have a hot woman playing with my head and not a creepy old man that smells like Aqua Velva.
Long story short, I am waiting for my stylist to be freed up when my girlfriend nudges me to look up. There’s a stylist bending over in tacky leopard print pants. Tank top too small, so her entire padded bra is showing. But here’s the killer, and I wish it showed up in the picture. I would expect a thong hanging out, but no. She topped it. Backless panties and entire ass crack exposed. Klassy.
Then I noticed what the stylist to the right of her was wearing.
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