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True Crime 
Sometimes I make friends on the internet. But mostly not.
Sometimes I make friends on the internet. But mostly not.
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True Crime
Wow! thanks for the tits, Dad? Where is that photo from? Who the hell gets married like that? I’m speechless, not typed-wordless but speechless.
And, managed to grab a quick peep as I was grabbing my KJV Bible to head off to church… will envision cocks and tits the whole time !
Tags: irony, blasphemy, envy, wtf.
Hey DF!
Sorry for leaving you with such a visually-stimulating visual. The image of that bashful bride has been permanently burned into my brain for quite a while now, so I know how you feel. To be honest, I can’t even remember where I found it…t was like one of those WTF moments that cause you to “lose time”.
Flattering necklace, though.
I wore naked chaps to my wedding.
That doesn’t count, Bearman…
Cartoon characters can get away with more.
I’m stunned, B, absolutely stunned . . . and excited, sure. I’m a guy after all, and immediately envision all of these people in a room together, creating performance art unsuitable for youngsters or any breathing mammal with fairly decent vision. And hearing.
The bursting bride would be tough on the Asians of course, considering their finer features and language barrier, possibly unaware of the message those shirts are sending. Throw in the beaming foreign dude with a whatever potruding from his nether regions, and we have an international crises on our hands, beyond the social ammendments of most skilled diplomats, or good old American carpet bombing. It’s what we do in times of uncertainty. Talk and bomb, talk and bomb . . .
The guy bobbing for urinal mints is pretty much a non-factor, unless we recruit some of your former photo subjects (girl at toilet, guy falling off toilet, etc.). Actually, the whole “toilet/urinal” theme could be quite a sideshow by itslef.
Truly spectacular work, Bschooled. Now I have these intense images burned into my brain along with that “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” song I heard last night, while driving my daughter to a Halloween party. Scary stuff indeed. You’re working powerful magic with those photography instincts!
Thanks for the comment, Invasive1. You’ve given me a lot to think about, especially since I was already planning to expand my artistic talents into the “Performance Art” genre.
Although if I did follow up on the idea, I would most likely leave Tits out of the equation. Not because I think she’d be a bad performance artist or anything, only because I hate feeling inferior (my performance art, my rules).
And I’d also like to thank-you for reminding me of the song that robbed me of almost a year of my life.
The thing that always bothered me most was that the chorus didn’t even rhyme…
I’m sorry, B! Sometimes certain songs should never be referenced, just for their powerful life associations. If there are such things as powerful potions, then it is the soundtracks of our crazy lives. May they close the Tiffany’s kitchen for rodent infestation and signs of a flesh eating virus.
If I had a nickel…
Excellent work Bschooled and important social commentary as well.
What kind of society do we live in where harmless grandmothers are labelled as being “out of control” and displayed like common criminals in shopping centres while naked bush pilots, perverted illiterates, stripper-brides and urinal cake munchers are left free to wreak havoc without recourse.
It’s a damned sad state of affairs I don’t mind telling you. What’s next? Putting wandering seniors into the stocks? Forcing us into old people petting zoos? Dunk tanking us for cheap laughs and easy profit?
It has to stop now. I will be writing a nasty letter to the federal department of shopping centres at once.
Many thanks for the excellent post.
Your friend,
Don
urinal cake muncher? You knew that? methinks that the Crabby old fart had a wild life back in the day!
I had my moments delicate flower. (I spent some time in Dayton in the late 50′s – I don’t think I need say any more than that).
Dayton? as in Ohio! OMG……
I put several of my patients in the stocks when I go off duty each day Don. It’s either that or chemical restraint via drugs… and at the end of a hard shift there ain’t too many drugs left at the gimcrack
Don,
I can’t tell you how glad I am to know that this disturbing image has gotten that blood of yours boiling (or at least circulating) as well.
When I saw this poor granny being caged and set out for display like some docile, caged animal, I felt like driving straight over to my nearest shopping mall and starting a huge public protest. I mean sure, a few months ago I would have found it hilarious (in fact, had I been there I probably would have heckled her myself even), but thanks to you and your sticktoitiveness, I now see things from a completely different perspective.
In fact, I even came up with a catchy protest chant-
Senior’s rights just
make you groan?
You want an inheritance?
Find your own!
Really, it could use some work (I just didn’t have a lot of prep-time).
But seriously, it’s bad enough that their rights to Krispy Kreme have been taken away (http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,297771,00.html ), do we really need to take away their dignity as well?
Anyway, thank-you for the truly inspiring comment, Don. You have more common sense in your pinky finger than an entire colony of perverted illiterates and urinal cake munchers(?) have combined.
Forever fighting for your carbs (but not your contraband),
Bschooled
Many thanks Bschooled,
Your protest chant is damned pithy – well done. You might want to toss a “go to Hell” in there too but, honestly, it’s quite fine in its current form and I’m grateful for your assistance.
And thank you for the link to the news story. It’s outrageous. First they take away our donuts and before you know it they’re back and looking for our canes, our guns and our canned goods.
Thanks once again for your help. Seniors everywhere appreciate your help.
Don
I’m always here for you Don.
I am the wind beneath your brilliant (albeit somewhat dilapidated) wings.
Excellent posts bschooled – you always seem to alter the course of my thoughts. For example, I was thinking about raising money for slow south American people and being nice to Walmart greeters, but after I logged onto the internet, I checked out your website and Kapow! or Shabang!- there you go, taking my thoughts into totally new and unexpected directions… I was not planning on thinking about ‘Urinal Mint diving’ or ‘cock loving gay or not gay Asian couples’ but that is where you’ve taken my minds eye… … keep up the great work! Best wishes from your loyal, but sometimes nervous fan.
I have to say, Frank, not only are you extremely witty and well-versed, you seem to have quite the altruistic nature about you. I find it quite refreshing. In fact, had I met you a few months ago, I would have asked you to join in my crusade to eradicate cameltoe.
Unfortunately, it turned out to be a bigger problem than I ever could have imagined, and when I realized that I couldn’t just throw money at the problem (every time I did, my loonies and twonies would suddenly just disappear), I had to give up the fight and move on to bigger and more important things (aka. eradicating elephantitis).
But enough about cameltoe.
Thanks again for the props, Frank. It’s nice to know that I’m at least doing something positive while waiting for the Government to approve my EEO (Elephantitis Eradication Organization) business proposal.
Bschooled:)
Well bschooled I have to admit that I’m a fan of the camel toes! I love ‘em. Yes I do…. Therefore, I would have to decline membership into that crusade, BUT, I wouldn’t be opposed to enforcing a higher standard of camel toe…. like a 4 inch camel toe size limit maybe… just an idea I’m throwing out there… I wouldn’t be opposed to joining the eradication of elephantiasis and hippotitus and bovinetitus or even extralargeboobjobtitus. Any of these I would consider, but for the camel toes, leave’m hanging. Your loyal fan…
Ha!
Well, Frank, it looks like we might have to make a compromise. Although I have no idea what a 4 inch camel toe looks like (nor do I ever want to find out, to be honest), I will trust your judgement and make the necessary amendments to my proposal.
But no matter what, I can’t “just leave’m hanging”. It just wouldn’t feel right.
As for “extralargeboobjobtitus”, I think
we can allmost of us can agree that it’s an eyesore (especially for those near-sighted “little people”). So yes, it’s definitely a possibility. We’d have to shorten the name, though…from past experience I find that people have a hard time eradicating things they can’t pronounce.It was hell trying to get anyone to even listen to my plea back when I tried to stop the spread of “pullyourpantsupicanseeyourdamnedcrackitis”.
Thank-you for the brilliant ideas, Frank. You’ve given me a lot to think about (not all of them good). I will get back to you after I’ve cleared my head a little.
Bschooled:)
I think I’m changing my favorite expression from “dumber than a bag of hammers” to “dumber than a wedding gown full of tits.”
It has kind of a ring to it. Ha ha! Get it – ring?
Anyhoo…I loves the cock, too. I mean, who doesn’t? He wakes you up in the morning, pecks around, and hounds chicks. Yup. Good stuff.
HA! good one, BK! From now on, I’m going to use that expression too (don’t worry, I’ll give you the credit).
And seriously, who doesn’t love the cock? I think the real problem here isn’t the cock itself, it’s the fact that our society has become so accustomed to sugar-coating everything, that they don’t know how to react when people from other cultures come along and “tell it like it is”.
We really need to work on that.
I think I’ll start letting my shirts speak for me. Besides saying, “These are my real, unfortunately large breasts,” I’ll get something that says, “I already hate you, so don’t bother.”
That’s pretty much what the usual expression on my face says anyway.
You guys! I’m a big fan of titties, but cock, not so much. Maybe I could get a shirt that says, “This is my real, unfortunately large weiner.” What do you think??
Wouldn’t that be a little redundant, FJ? It would be like Alan wearing a t-shirt that says “Hey, I’m a dog!”
I mean, maybe it’s just me, but I thought that was a given.
ps. Every time you and BKT say the words “cock” and “tits”, I get spam mail from a site called “cockbot at I love sex on the beach dot com”. Being the curious person I am, I had to click on the link to see what it was all about.
If you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s because I just got fired…
What a coincidence. I actually have the same thing written on the sandwich board I wear to work…
LOL…I had never actually used that abbreviation before, so now seemed like a good time.
The bride was wearing a necklace???
Who knew urinal cakes were that tasty? You really learn a lot visiting your blog, b! ;)
Haha!
Don’t worry if you didn’t notice it, Talon, it’s quite an understated piece.
She also had a spare set of keys, $200 in rolls of quarters, a flask of Smirnoff and a 3-litre super bottle of pepsi in her cleavage, but it’s hard to tell from this angle.
Well, bschooled, you’ve done it again. Said more in 5 words than I can say with 900+. And of course, you’ve managed to bring another painful memory to the surface.
I was young and idealistic, fresh out of shop class, and looking for some summer work that wouldn’t cut into my hectic schedule of napping and persuading adults to buy alcohol for me.
I happened upon an unlikely want ad buried in the back of Comatose Drunkard Fortnightly that was looking for someone with “a valid driver’s license” and “no experience.” I thought “one out of two ain’t bad” and applied.
After eight hours of corporate-lingo pep talk and horribly produced instructional videos, I was cut loose at the mall to push incontinence products.
We weren’t given much to work with: some cardboard, construction paper, Elmer’s glue and an “easy-to-set-up” canopy system. Our only other instruction was “Be creative! Push the paradigm! Monetize the locals! Bait and switch!”
Six hours and multiple cuts and contusions later, there it was: the “Out of Control” booth, featuring OOC’s fine line of nighttime, daytime and formal occasion undergarments for those who just couldn’t “hold it.”
Our single customer failed to impart any excitement to me or my hastily assembled (and hastily unravelled) team. We got a couple of shots to prove to our boss that we had been there and called it a day. We received $6.50 to split four ways.
I was told that they would call me if they need my spectacular brand of failure again. I went home a slightly richer and wiser man. I used my wages to play “Quarters” that night with the cat.
Thanks for the post, bschooled. No one says it like you say it, not even those kids in their “FUCK” and “LIKE COCK” shirts.
That is a truly touching story, CLT. I started tearing up when you said you had to persuade adults to buy you alcohol (working at a “Mens Only” Fitness club I never had that problem), and by the time I got to the part about you having a cat, I was grief-stricken.
I think the most disheartening thing about your story is the fact that you only received your issue of “Drunken Comatose” bi-monthly, whereas our publication would arrive at least three times a week (twice on Saturdays). Highly entertaining magazine, I must say.
I guess the only problem was that because we were always reading, we never had time for things like napping or studying…or even holding down a job for that matter.
Anyway, I just want you to know that had I been at the mall that sad day, I have no doubt in my mind that I would have bought your entire supply of incontinence products. Not only to they make great “Lordy Lordy Look Who’s 40!” gag gifts, there’s nothing worse than having to go to the washroom every five minutes while you’re in the middle of “getting your read on”.
Thanks for the highly-droll comment, CLT. It was like a hundred Fuck/ Like Cock shirts, all rolled into one.
Haha, funny stuff B. All this talk about tits and cocks has left me a tad anxious though!?!?
Trust me, I know exactly how you feel, FJ! This whole thing has left me feeling extremely apprehensive and angst-ridden myself…
Always good to see you, Mr. Jelly:)
Damn, I had heard that the newest craze in mall kiosks was going to be carefully catered to an over 80 swinger’s niche. With the ever growing popularity of Viagra, Levitra and Cialis, sexy seniors need a way to meet and ‘greet’ (in a biblical sense) one another. I just hope I can get in before they are all tapped out. So to speak.
I used to consider myself pretty adventurous until I saw what your idea of adventure entailed(?) It that the right word? I mean, is that a front tail? Anyway, I think my days of skydiving, surfing, and rock climbing are over. I’ll just stay at home and do crossword puzzles from now on.
What’s wrong with a little romantic, teasing banter among young, naïve Asians on a train? As far as I’m concerned it’s between them, the other passengers, Spencer’s Gift’s, the strap on, and the internet.
In Fantasy, I sure hope that the drink in her hand is vodka, and they’re on a movie set. This entire scene has me dumbfounded. Other than the top third, the dress looks well designed and expensive. But I doubt that Vera Wang would put her name on such a travesty. The two limos in the background suggest somebody has money. If it were a redneck wedding there would be two pick-ups and an El-Camino. But if one or both of the couple has class, taste, and money……..why?? I give up.
Lastly, I want to kiss you for the last one! I love you right now! I’ve been waiting almost two years to find out what happened on the series finale of The Sopranos, and finally you’ve uncovered the truth. Tony got the best of that douchebag in the Members Only jacket, and left him like that to send a message to that fucking Phil!
Sorry for the sub-par comment B. I’m sick as hell and I took a European version of Dayquil. I think the stuff has lithium in it because I keep drooling and falling asleep with my eyes open. I can’t wait to see what the ‘nighttime’ stuff does to me. yay.
Scott,
You have nothing to apologize for, your comments may be a lot of things (witty, thought-provoking, laden with just the right amount of whatthefuckitiveness), but sub-par is certainly not one of them.
To answer your question, I don’t believe it’s a front tail. Although it could be. To be honest, I’m not really sure. All I know is that a) his friend really seems to enjoy it, and b) it gets him from point A to point B.
I am dumbfounded by Fantasy as well, so much so that I’ve lost sleep over it. Then again, the idea that a woman would actually want to have two fat-laden tumors the size of small planets protruding from her upper torso, is something that I’ve always found to be baffling. Not to sound rude or anything, but sometimes I think they just do it for the attention.
And I have to say that I’m really glad you liked the last picture. Although I have never seen the Sopranos myself, I do hope that Phil finally got the fucking message. For his own sake.
Anyway, I hope you feel better soon. There’s nothing more annoying than drooling and falling asleep with your eyes open. Trust me, I do it from 8-5 Monday through Friday (although I do take an hour off at lunch).
Hahaha….
You’re right, his friend really does seem to enjoy it. And if you are my friend (and I know you are) you will do everything in your power to stop me from getting anywhere near ‘point B,’ no matter how drunk I get, or how much I beg you to let me go to ‘point B.’
I think that you’re being a tad harsh on the breast enhancement click. They don’t want any attention, they hate the added attention. It’s another burden upon their already over-burdened back. I think that most of the women who opt for the surgery all have really sensitive toes and are simply trying to protect them from random objects which drop from the sky. You know like jaws, dentures, dollar bills, and hearing aids.
Thanks for the get well wishes. The European version of Nyquil offered a little relief. I think it may have a little ecstasy in it, everything else here does.
As long as you stick with me, you will never get to point B, Scott. I’ve been there, and trust me…it’s not a pretty place. Especially when you’re stuck doing the 3,000 mile walk of shame home.
I never thought about the sensitive toes, Scott. You bring up a valid point. But then again, isn’t that what Uggs are for? I mean I can’t think of why else anyone would wear them. As for the flying dentures, I’d think it would be better for them to invest in a sturdy helmet…but then again, that’s just me.
I’m glad you’re feeling better…now you’ve given me even more incentive to come visit…
My God that woman is hot! The fact that she is “out of control” just makes the party in my pants that much more lively. The picture of the two little China men helps too.
I think that party in your pants is lively enough as it is, TL. From what I heard, it’s already violated numerous health codes…some of which didn’t even exist before!
To be honest, though, I’m surprised you found Ms. OOC so hot. I figured you as more of a wingman myself…;)
That woman with the necklace… You know, the one in the wedding dress… Let’s call her “Tits Ahoy” …All I could think was that it had to a joke. Maybe an April’s Fool joke… And that got me thinking… Why is it that all the other holidays have mascots like The Easter Bunny, Santa, Jesus, or Martin Luther King, but April Fool’s Day has squat? And why haven’t we ever seen all of those dudes together in the same place at the same time? That’s suspicious. April Fool’s could use a poster girl and I’d like to make a suggestion – that woman, you know, “Tits Ahoy”. Now I’m sure she won’t bring gifts like Santa and likely doesn’t have x-ray vision like Jesus but she does have her mighty fake breasts. It would be great if she could use them to fly – and deflect bullets. Because that’s what I’m personally looking for in a big breasted shameless April Fool Queen. But then again, that’s just me…
I suspect that Tannerleah would disagree with you on whether Tits Ahoy brings gifts. Just sayin’.
Boy, you had me worried there for a minute, Alan!
I mean here I was, sitting at the computer, wearing nothing but a wedding dress (force of habit) and a strategically placed necklace (strategically placed like a crown on my head…partly for shock value, partly just because it just wouldn’t fit over my cranium), and I was thinking to myself “How does he know that? Does he have cybervision or something?”
It wasn’t until you said “Tits Ahoy” that I finally clued in.
Anyway, I’m reading your mail loud and clear. To be honest, I, too, have been looking my whole life for a big breasted shameless April fool’s Queen like the one you mentioned. I just didn’t want to say anything for fear of sounding superficial (and slightly lesbian-ish). I guess the only difference was that I decided to call her “Lady Lack-a-Areola” . Oh, and I also thought she would be bearing gifts (only because I really like gifts).
But other than that, our thoughts were pretty much the same.
So let’s compromise. Tits Ahoy bringing gifts while at the same time deflecting bullets and flying.
Call me crazy, Alan, but I think we could really be on to something here!
Now all we need is a shtick. I mean besides the tits, gifts, deflection of bullets and flying. Something original…
Ah, sweet irony and yummily delightful coincidence.
I say this as my preamble because (and I swear this is true) I am sitting at my computer wearing nothing but a wedding dress (force of habit… oh, I’m also wearing my wedding dress over my nun’s habit) and a strategically placed necklace and hairshirt (the necklace is strategically placed like a noose around my neck…partly for shock value, partly just because I don’t own a real tie. The hairshirt is just there because sometimes it’s fun to be an itchy martyr), and I was thinking to myself “How does she know that? Has she been reading my diary again? Oh, that scamp!”
I have exciting news. I have found a tribe of big breasted shameless April fool’s Queens in Hogs Hollow. The ads were true: “Hogs Hollow – Come for the Opulent Hogs. Stay for big breasted shameless April Fool’s Queens!”
So, I’ve booked you a flight. A bullet deflecting and big breasted shameless April fool’s Queen should be landing down outside your office momentarily.
I think this is a new and exciting chapter in our lives and I suspect you will be able to get some truly groundbreaking social research from this. And as a local resident, I shall act as your guide (the Virgil to your Dante) and introduce you to the odd customs and habits of these strange and opulent creatures. You bring the bong, I’ll bring the hydro.
Yes, it’s win win!
Hahaha!
Can you believe that when I read your first paragraph, I actually thought you were calling me a scampi?
At first I was a little upset. “Is he trying to say that I’m a shrimp? The nerve! Since when is someone who measures six-foot one (give or take eighteen inches) considered short?”
Then, I became angry. “Who does he think he is to call me a bottom-feeder! And even if I am, is it really a crime?”
Then, I was just downright confused. “Just what the hell is he trying to get at, anyway?”
Luckily, after I did a few laps around the office to “cool off”, I decided to re-read your comment.
My bad.
So what was the point of this long and somewhat superfluous story, you ask? Good question, Alan.
One that will hopefully soon be answered. Maybe by a tribe of big breasted shameless April fool’s Queens in Hogs Hollow…
Then again, maybe not. Tough to say.
Regardless, you’re right about one thing. This is most definitely a new and exciting chapter in our otherwise old and lackluster lives.
So my answer is yes. I will wait for that bullet deflecting and big breasted shameless April fool’s Queen with baited breath (fucking cod!), and I will also be bringing the bong.
Because it’s time for us to “get our research” on!
Hah!
Right on, sister. Fucking cod!
Yes, it’s the dawn of a new era in our lives, bschooled. “A flying, bullet deflecting and big breasted shameless April fool’s Queen” era. And I think we’re all agreed it should even more surprising than our last era, the “filmic blue wave Gitane smoking noir cinéma vérité mock turkey loaf documentary.” Whew, did that get stale fast!
But before we do, I must ask you… Why so down on the scampi? Seriously, this a tender area for me (I have others but I’m toughening them up with a meat tenderizer and melon baller). For you see (Yes, that’s right, I said “for you see.” We can practically see the ominous foreshadowing, can’t we? Hmmm, maybe I should throw in some thunder and rain for pathetic fallacy, as well it’s an apt metaphor for my internal mood… Okay, I’m rambling…)…
For you see, I once dated a Scampi.
It was in high school. My salad days. I was a fresh faced dog boy straight off the turnip truck and new to the big city and she was a large shrimp. An oxymoron of a babe if I ever saw one. (And I hadn’t.)
Anyway, it was love at first sight. We went swimming, avoided garlic presses and made sweet love in public parks. But it was not to be. Society mocked us. Anti scampi racists taunted her and normal people called me a disgusting pervert. Yes, a Romeo and Juliet, boy meet seafood doomed romance.
My parents didn’t approve and hers had long been drowned and devoured in a red cocktail sauce.
Mom and dad told me I could never see her again and dragged me to Red Lobster and forced me to gorge on the shrimp special. It was awful.
We were torn apart and I was left asunder, and that was really uncomfortable. So I had to buy new jeans.
Anyway, I never saw her again. But I did rebound. I’m dating a lobster from Halifax and things seem to be going well. This weekend I’m taking to her a spa. We’ll both get massages, facials and enjoy a nice long steamy sauna. Yup, everything should work out just fine…
PS. I’m at the airport and waiting for your flight. I’ll be the guy dressed in the lab coat with the bag of weed and lobster assistant.
Of course our filmic blue wave Gitane smoking noir cinéma vérité mock turkey loaf documentary got stale fast, Alan. I mean, it’s not like it was a filmic blue wave Gitane smoking noir cinéma vérité mock chopped pork shoulder meat with ham meat added, sodium nitrite (to help keep its color) encased in a gelatinous glaze documentary or anything. You didn’t want to go that route, remember?
You said it sounded too “cliché”.
Anyway, I want to apologize about the scampi. I had no idea you had a thing for crustaceans. I mean in “that way”. Sometimes I just blurt out things without thinking first. But to be fair, it’s not really my fault.
You see, I was born without a filter.
After the Doctor delivered me, he said to my soon-to-be-devastated parents, “The good news is that she’s obviously a girl. The bad news…is that she’s going be extremely insensitive to the feelings of others. Oh, and she’ll occasionally go off on random tangents for no reason whatsoever. I suggest you get rid of her.” But thankfully, after some careful deliberation, they decided to stick it out.
It’s been a hard life, but I like to think it’s made them stronger people.
So where was I?
Oh right, your jeans. And your new girlfriend.
Watch out for the lobsters, Alan. Sure, they look pretty and all, but once they get their claws into you, there’s no turning back. Trust me, I’ve been there.
Anyway, gotta go get my wedding dress and strategically placed necklace dry-cleaned for the trip…
Can’t wait to see you! (Don’t bring the assistant, though…like I said, I don’t trust those Nephropidaes)
Hahaha!
Thank you for the laughs. I really needed them. Lobster girl left me for the ocean. This is the second time the ocean has stolen my girlfriend. I think I’m gonna challenge it to a fight, even though violence never solved anything and I can’t win this one.
Ah well, there’s a new chair in my house that I have my eye on. Maybe it’s time to lower my expectations and go for girlfreinds who are less animate and crustacean like.
omg that bride photo is the best!!!wow! how daring is she! awsome!
Hey Shraddha, good to see you!
She definitely has guts, that’s for sure.
Hers just happen to be a little higher up on her torso…
Thanks for stopping by, Shraddha. Hope you’re doing well:)
Dear Life Maven B,
This post is the most spellbinding one since yesteryear. In particular, I took great pleasure in the oriental couple’s snapshot. As someone who’s been making lots of t-shirts lately himself (for Biotech companies – what do you know?), I have a high regard for their attire. Furthermore, I was not aware that such tandems walk proudly amongst us regular humans. Their mane is bravura and by the look on their faces they know it. Oh yes, they know it well.
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Frankelstache
Dear How Can I Get Experience if I Can’t Get a Job and Vice-Versa FS,
I had no idea that you maketh the Biotech t-shirt. But now that you mention it, I guess it would explain a lot. Not anything I would be able to discuss, mind you, since I find Biotech talk to be a little “repetitive and uninspiring”, even at the best of times.
But that’s just me.
All I can say is that they picked the right man for the job. Because if you can’t kick genetic engineering attire up a few decibels, FS, I doubt that anyone can.
For real.
Always proud to be in your loop, (I have no idea what that means, btw)
Bschooled
I am speachless…..fantasy yes most definetely…she looks like my next ex wife….and despite what Mr Mills is clamoring on about..that old lady looks down right dangerous…dont know about the others….thanks for keeping us straight on some things though..zman sends
Hey Zman!
So I take it you have a thing for blondes, then?
I see your point about the old lady looking dangerous, but really, I think that’s just how they all look at that age. I actually feel a little sorry for her, seeing as it looks as though someone (her grandkids maybe) hoisted her up and then took off.
In fact, wouldn’t be surprised if she’s still there…
Anyway, thanks for stopping by, Zman. And remember, if you ever need someone to set you straight on things, come to me. I’m here for you.
Bschooled:)