Dogs are cool but Chihuahas and pugs are fuckin ugly and disgusting

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Ginseng?

You should see the dogs in Scotland. They trot about the place sipping from cans of Tenant's Super Strength Lager with needles hanging out their, er, legs.

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Something is severely fucked up with the internet around here. Google-related? FB, youtube, g-mail, the search engine, it's all erratic like hell and generally won't load at all. But it's all over the map. Several other sites are slow like hell, if they don't just refuse to load all too. However. MT pops up like the slightly rank jack-in-the-box it has always been. So, what does this tell us?

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It says that your net sux, d0od. Mine has worked fine all day, but I'm in the greatest country on earth, too.

I agree that in public places it's really rude to not clean up your pup-poop-popsicles. Even though we have several acres, we pretty much limited the areas and didn't let her go where there was heavy foot traffic through the yard by kids or meter readers.

I'm glad I didn't put her down when she first became disabled. She had been a great dog for previous owner and for me, too, and it wasn't time. When the pain started it was time. The way her eyes were by the time we took her to the vet I kind of think she might have been comatose. I sure miss her and it's going to be rough when the first snow comes. All my dogs have loved snow.

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What do you want in Finland

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Yo' mama doesn't count.

I'd rather be ginger than to have had large magnetic strips surgically implanted under my skin so that I can surreptitiously pilfer the pennies and dimes scattered around the shoeless feet of sleeping homeless men or to roll around in ditches in the hopes of snagging a few bottle caps which can then be sold in accordance with the Proclaimers Profitability Model ("I would walk 500 miles for a penny"), such is the wily custom of the shape-shifting Ju.

Or:

No, YOU'RE ginger. YOU are.

P.S. Asians very rarely use ginger in their cuisine, unless "Ginger" is the name of the cat they lingchi-ed for their cat pie. I know this for I am Paddy.

Well I guess being ginger doesn't make you an authority on all things ginger. It's cool, though; since it's actually worse to be ginger than to be wrong, being wrong in your case never actually makes you any worse of a person. But that's just because there's nothing below ginger, and you know it.

I steal openly; no need for any of that bullshit. If I want a bum's pennies I'd just knock him aside and take them. However, let me let you in on a secret: all the street beggars in the world are actually a collection front for the UJA. So that money's coming to me one way or another, and it'd be pretty pointless for me to have an elaborate way of stealing my own money surgically implanted.

However, once again you're fortunate in that you can't sink any lower for your ignorance.

The man who quotes Wikipedia is surely the lowest of the low. Except when I do it:

http://img100.imageshack.us/img100/6940/wikitruthia.png

I think I've figured out where your obsessive hatred of gingers stems from, other than the fact that you are one yourself complete with big ginger balls and everything. It's because you used to live amongst them, here in my very own Irishland, where you thought you and your grand vault of illicit loose change could live with impunity. That is until you realised that the big daddy of all loose change over here is the curiously shaped 50 pence piece:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikiped...nce_obverse.jpg

Gingers came. They came in their droves. And they all relieved you of your vast plethora of 50p coins - wrenched directly out of your clenched fist - with a rudimentary tool known locally as the Jew Giver, but more generally as a spanner.

Let it go, man. Seriously.

P.S. Not ginger.

I have the cold from hell and it doesn't feel metal at all. At least I'll have adhesive for my Christmas cards this year. Do you think 2 jars is enough?

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When you consider the sheer volume of friends you must have accumulated over your 112 years on the planet I'd imagine a bathtub full of the stuff would be the better option.

Just went as a Guido to a Halloween Party..pics to come.



Happy Halloween motha fuckas!

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HAPPY HALLOWEEN YOU NUTS!!!!1

How are you guys going to scare the children infront of your door? Or even celebrate Hallowiener?
I tought of printing out an necrophilic pic with the subtitle "dead girls don`t say no" and stick it to our frontdoor

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Halloween is like a home delivery service for sex offenders, so naturally I'll be hiding in my garden for most of the night clutching a large net and a 14" rubber cock.

I've also been working on my 12-year-old girl costume. I'll kneel down on a pair of shoes to hide the fact that I'm 6ft tall and will offer free oral sex to passing children. I may offer oral sex in exchange for lollipops if the children think it's all too good to be true and that there must be a catch. "No catch...well, ok then, there is a catch; I'll need a lollipop to take the taste of your perpetually flaccid cock out of my mouth." If they ask to see my fanny (UK) I'll have that shit covered because I've made a portable vagina by layering strips of bacon around the outside of a hollowed-out melon, which I'll strap to my crotch under my petticoat before I head over to the disco car-park.

Or I might just fire at them with a dart gun as they clamber up my driveway in search of free sugar, the wee free-loading zombie diabetic fuckers that they are.

An inspiration to us all, as always.

Well fuck me up and suck me dry. This internet merry-go-around isn't getting any better; it's flickering in and out like a strobe light. But frikkin metaltabs is just fine. Damn, I mean, I was supposed to prepare a presentation on how to operate a site this weekend and I had it all so neatly planned out. What I was gonna prepare in the CMS, have all the admin accounts ready and lined up, everything set up with a bit of polish, just roll out the red carpet and let the happy lambs dance into their new playground. What this amounts to, however, is me trying to do two days worth of work in about four hours in the time I'll have with a decent connection tomorrow. I'm not a happy man. And I have formal training in the handling of chainsaws and heavy machinery. The situation is excruciatingly frustrating, what with all these social inhibitions lying around.
Pft.

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The day after halloween is one of the only reasons I still keep my facebook account

skeet skeet

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Amadeus, it sounds like the MT gnomes were unleashed. (My husband just asked me if I have a spare flannel nightie for him to wear since it's supposed to be 20 degrees tonight. )

Halloween was spent half dead on the couch for 2 days. We haven't got trick or treaters in years so no biggie here. I do miss seeing the kids dressed up, but there's not any young ones around here anymore.

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I saw the greatest costume idea last night. Some dude was dressed as security at a bar (with the "SECURITY" shirt and even a little thing in his ear) and people totally bought it. I watched him randomly ask people for their IDs and turn some away. Brilliant. Then I played minefield with a friend. 10 shots, 5 are water, 5 are liquor, and I got fucked.

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I spent the whole night not answering the door. It was great. I'd hear the doorbell chime and I'd just sit there, not answering it. I could clearly see the silhouettes of witches' hats through the shades on my kitchen window and I could hear the impatient excitement of small children as they huddled around my porch, and I subsequently heard the excitement dampen and saw the witches hats get smaller and smaller as they walked away after a prolonged period of me not answering the door. I think I would say that it was the best night of not doing anything I've ever had since that time I didn't have sex with the girlfriend I never asked out.

Keeping a diary when this is how one spends his nights is a real challenge, but the beauty of it is that if your primary hobby in life is not doing anything you can use that to not write the best diary entry that's ever existed which I can then spend several hours a day not reading. When it comes time to write my autobiography I could either fill an infinite number of volumes detailing the many things I spent a particular day not doing or I could just spend the rest of my life not writing about it at all ensuring that it's the best autobiography ever not written, which is both a more economical option and one which I'm sure that you, my friends, would prefer.

I know what you're thinking: "why didn't you just not write this post?" Well, fuck you and your gay dads, that's why.

For images of the girls who dressed hawt?

yep you guessed it, its amazing what kind of stuff they will put up on fb.

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