The list......again.....
85. Cashiers that act like I've just handed them a stick of Kryptonite as they call their more qualified manager to dispose of my $50 bill, then one of them disdainfully asks (or aks) if this is the smallest bill I have. Yeah, I just saw my pimp and this is all he gives me after he hits me a few times. Just make my change!
86. I don't like the cashiers that ask for my phone number when I want to by a roll of film, but the people that refuse to give it, or protest almost violenty at the counter, don't deserve to be out among us regular folks. MAKE UP A NUMBER! I always ask the cashier their number then change it by 1 and say that we must be neighbors.
87. Melanie Griffith. Who told her she was pretty? Hell, I've seen better looking scabs. One the brighter side, after having bagged 2 of the most desirable men on the planet, she does give eternal hope to every fat, pastey, talentless slut currently stalking George Clooney.
88. Speaking of dime-a-dozen blondes that annoy me, don't think that Stevie Nicks can sneak under the radar. What's with the whole witchy / vampire thing? Why is there always a fan on you? Why are you wearing my grandma's lace tablecloth? Who told you that you were pretty, the same guy that lied to Melanie? If you ARE one of the un-dead, don't think for a second that we won't find out about it, missy.
89. Pamela Anderson. Pamela, Pamela, Pamela. I truly don't know whether to loathe you or to pity you, or both. Like Michael Jackson, you are a living tribute to your own miserable existence. The fake boobs that you think men like, the fake hair that you think men like, the fake everything, it's all a perfect exapmle of you: fake and sad. Please go away.
90. Speaking of fake boobs.......I hate them. I don't know a man outside of a Jiffy Lube that does like them. WOMEN: If you measure your self-worth by the cup size, you will never be happy until you overcome that, and that is not men's fault or societies undoing. It's your problem. Deal with it. Love your body the way it is. Trust me, somewhere out there is some strange man with a strange fetish for the very thing you don't like about youself and he can't wait to find and stalk you. Take my wife and her third nipple for example.......oops. Trust me: fake boobs are hideous.
Next week, I promise, I will return to my regularly scheduled and more "positive" programming. In fact, I will work on a list of things I actually like. For example, although, this may not be the Number One thing I like, it is up there in at least the Top 10, and although I relaize it may sound rather odd, but here goes:
Puppy breath - Maybe I'm just strange, but I love the way puppy breath smells. There is no other smell like puppy breath, and I like it.
85. Cashiers that act like I've just handed them a stick of Kryptonite as they call their more qualified manager to dispose of my $50 bill, then one of them disdainfully asks (or aks) if this is the smallest bill I have. Yeah, I just saw my pimp and this is all he gives me after he hits me a few times. Just make my change!
86. I don't like the cashiers that ask for my phone number when I want to by a roll of film, but the people that refuse to give it, or protest almost violenty at the counter, don't deserve to be out among us regular folks. MAKE UP A NUMBER! I always ask the cashier their number then change it by 1 and say that we must be neighbors.
87. Melanie Griffith. Who told her she was pretty? Hell, I've seen better looking scabs. One the brighter side, after having bagged 2 of the most desirable men on the planet, she does give eternal hope to every fat, pastey, talentless slut currently stalking George Clooney.
88. Speaking of dime-a-dozen blondes that annoy me, don't think that Stevie Nicks can sneak under the radar. What's with the whole witchy / vampire thing? Why is there always a fan on you? Why are you wearing my grandma's lace tablecloth? Who told you that you were pretty, the same guy that lied to Melanie? If you ARE one of the un-dead, don't think for a second that we won't find out about it, missy.
89. Pamela Anderson. Pamela, Pamela, Pamela. I truly don't know whether to loathe you or to pity you, or both. Like Michael Jackson, you are a living tribute to your own miserable existence. The fake boobs that you think men like, the fake hair that you think men like, the fake everything, it's all a perfect exapmle of you: fake and sad. Please go away.
90. Speaking of fake boobs.......I hate them. I don't know a man outside of a Jiffy Lube that does like them. WOMEN: If you measure your self-worth by the cup size, you will never be happy until you overcome that, and that is not men's fault or societies undoing. It's your problem. Deal with it. Love your body the way it is. Trust me, somewhere out there is some strange man with a strange fetish for the very thing you don't like about youself and he can't wait to find and stalk you. Take my wife and her third nipple for example.......oops. Trust me: fake boobs are hideous.
Next week, I promise, I will return to my regularly scheduled and more "positive" programming. In fact, I will work on a list of things I actually like. For example, although, this may not be the Number One thing I like, it is up there in at least the Top 10, and although I relaize it may sound rather odd, but here goes:
Puppy breath - Maybe I'm just strange, but I love the way puppy breath smells. There is no other smell like puppy breath, and I like it.
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