Sorts of things up with which we will not put...

Dang, I generated a diamond cutter just previewing that last post.
Lord help us if we ever get into the whole jeezin Emma Peel deal, I'll be posting full time from the freaking Mens' Room.

Listen, man, if you're doing the lunchtime desk nap thing, the fuckin terrorists have won and the ghost of Nixon is walking the halls of the Capitol, just don't fuckin do it, OK? There have to be a few things that separate us from the unevolved orders, right?
Speaking of which, funniest Letterman monologue joke ever:
"OK, as we all know, the opposable thumb separates us from the lower primates. Evolutionary geneticists this week announced that they've now determined that the little finger is what separates us from cartoon characters."
I still crack up every time I think of that.

Shit, man, I mentioned to my wife the other day that a new scouring pad in the kitchen was cute, for fuck's sake...how in the everloving bowels of Hephaestus can a fucking potscrubber be cute?!?!  I think I'm ready for retirement here.


Oh yeah, unless you're standing on a street corner in Baltimore selling the WMD or the Lady Gaga 3 for 2 until Reup, and even then, just maybe, but if I see you with a fuckin ballcap on sideways, chances are excellent I'll just plain kick your ass so fuckin hard you'll be pooping out your ear.
Just saying is all.

Lordy, you know, the middle four or five floors of our building here are our factory, right? Well, I was walking through the lobby the other day and there were like 15 fucking identical looking Filipinas lined up at the front desk, all with the same long hair, all the exact same height, all the same luscious brown sugar colour, all wearing the exact same white T shirts and jeans. Holy crap, I got dizzy just looking at them.
They were like some kind of Sexual Oompa Loompas or some fucking thing.
I actually walked around for a couple days thinking I'd dreamt it.

Finally (for now), just cause it's fuckin Friday (Is it Friday? Oh, baby, it's Friday alright), your old pal Cheech gots one of these for you. I think, given all the recent unpleasantness, we should all just take a deep breath and hearken back to yesteryear, to a kinder, gentler time, before that conniving harridan got her greasy meathooks into him, before the mansion, before the politics, I'd like us all to take a moment and remember when he was our Arnold, just another multibillionaire movie star, who, in spite of it all, was the same deep down inside as you, me, and everyone, a guy who, just like everyone else...

Wanted to be Angus...