It’s been a while since I last deposited some money in this little pocket of refried empanada goodness, which can also be considered a blog, depending on the angle you look at it and your appetite.
I can’t promise that this entry is going to be deliciously clever or dripping with one single cogent thought even. In fact, I’m going to just say that there is no destination. It’s going to be a pure and reckless, driving with your knees type of journey. Where to you ask?
I don’t know, but here’s something hollerific to rub your face in and smile.
I plowed through the Internet with a Mack truck like zeal and found dads in short shorts or really hot girls with plungers. But let's not forget the clever fingerbangin' site.
Now that we got that out of the way, it’s safe to say that I simply want to hang out with other men and revel in rugged masculinity today. Send me an e-mail if you’re a hambro and want to arm wrestle or exchange punches in the arm, pop collars, and collectively gel our hair into dangerous spikes, all in one sweeping motion! Yessssss!!!
Douche. Bag. Don’t mind if I doooooo!
Stay tuned. I’m graduating from this bullsh** blog to a real professional Website in the coming days, so prepare for penetrating insight and rigorous scholarship, wisdom and drawn out excuses why it’s OK to eat a banana in public.
Told you. This entry was loosely strung together by the thread of resignation and fleeting thoughts about your mom. Ooooooh she’s so good. MMMMMMpenada good actually.
No comments:
Post a Comment