A few days ago I pulled into a Sheetz gas station, to buy yet another $25 ration of fuel, and it was pandemonium. There was a vehicle at every pump, and another car waiting at most of them. It was ridiculous, and I started to growl like a dog.
I saw an older man pumping gas into an SUV, so I pulled in behind him. If I’m forced to wait, I always try to find a person already in the process of pumpin’. If they still need to insert their card, and push the proper buttons, it’s simply too much of a risk. Many people, I’ve learned, cannot properly navigate a gas pump, an ATM, or (merely speculation) a wad of toilet paper across their residue-encrusted sphincter – even though the crack acts as a nifty guide rail system.
But this guy was already in the process of transferring fuel, so I thought it was a good bet. Ha! I now realize how hilarious it was, to actually trust a fellow human to behave in a courteous manner. Hilarious, and kinda cute, really.
After the old bastard finished, you see, he replaced the handle, printed a receipt (the hatred was already starting to bubble up) and… walked into the store! He left his car parked at the pump, and went into the convenience store – while I was sitting there, waiting to buy gas.
What the hell, man?? There were two empty spaces directly in front of him, near the main entrance. It was less than twenty yards from where we were sitting. The move would have cost him thirty seconds, tops. And it would have freed-up the pump for me. It’s what I would have done, even if there HADN’T been someone waiting. As George Costanza says: we live in a society!
I couldn’t believe it, and began yelling and waving my hands around. Even though my windows were up, someone at another pump heard, and looked at me with a WTF? expression on his face. I snarled at him, like a maniac, and tore ass out of the parking lot. As I exited I saw the snarlee flip me the bird, and holler something for my benefit.
Good god. I’d just wanted to stop for some gas on my way to work. Why must everything be such a hassle? Every. Little. Thing?
While driving I revisited one of my favorite daydreams, the one where I possess the power to cause car engines to burst into flames, just by willing it to happen. I had visions of the SUV merging onto I-81, eventually achieving cruising speed, and BLAM!! It goes cart-wheeling, fully involved, down the fast lane, as a blood-curdling scream is heard coming from the fireball.
That little fantasy almost always cheers me up, and it did so on this day, as well. But when I arrived at the Sunoco station, a few blocks away, I suffered a relapse.
The pumps there are ancient, probably Reagan-era, and retrofitted somewhere along the line to accept bank cards. I put mine into the slot, and a cloudy window that looks like a 1982 digital watch asked CREDIT or DEBIT? I pushed the battered button for the former, and nothing happened. What the? I pushed it again, with my thumb and body weight, and it finally switched over to DO YOU WANT A RECEIPT? Bitch!
Finally, after what felt like ten minutes, I was allowed to start pumping gas into my tank. And that thing was moving so slowly, my blood pressure was cranking upward alongside the sale amount. One dollar ten cents…. One dollar eleven cents… One dollar twelve cents… What is this, Panama??
It’s that bastard’s fault, I mumbled to myself. I wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for him. He probably went in there to buy a Sprite; old people love Sprite. I was disgusted. And before I reached two dollars and fifty cents, I was envisioning a rolling ball of fire again, and the pressure in my brain lessened somewhat.
Oh yeah, he’s definitely my Asshole of the Week. I know, because I’m still thinking about him. Who was yours? Who would you like to nominate? Please try to limit it to last week only. But that shouldn’t be too difficult, right? Assholes abound.
Also, do you have any revenge fantasies like my little Firestarter thing? Or is that just me? Please tell us about it, won’t you?
And I’m going to call it a day, my friends. Please remember to use our Amazon links while doing your holiday shopping. Here they are again: Amazon US and Amazon Canada. It’s much appreciated.
I’ll see you again tomorrow.
Now playing in the bunker
Give Crossroads Road to your friends and enemies!
Mine was last Thursday. My aunt shows up at Thanksgiving and within minutes of meeting for the first time my girlfriend she gives us shit about some bullshit we posted on facebook a month ago.
She wouldn’t shut up about it and I told her I wasn’t going to do shit about it.
The next day while her, the girl, and my mom were shopping she brought it up again. This time my girlfriend laid into her and told her to cram it up her cram hole.
Granted the conversation was a bit personal and inappropriate, but if she has a problem with it, talk to me when it happens, or call me. Don’t sit on it and then be passive aggressive and a full on bitch at the same time.
Also, she shows up to dinner and proceeds to make 3 dishes. Three dishes that could have been made at home (less than 2 hours away) and reheated at our house and then gives my mom shit for not having the right cooking implements. Wotta bitch.
Her and well, Ben Rothlesburger. Fuck that guy. (Not really, but Jesus Christ Bengals! WTF?)
No one has ever confused me with Nelson Mandela or Desmond Tutu; for one thing, I’m a lot whiter. But more and more lately, I’ve taken the view that the assholes I encounter are in my life only briefly, while their relatives have to live with their shit much of the time and they have to live with themselves ALL the time. So I’ve been laughing at them more and cursing them less lately.
So, as pitiful of a human being as he is, I guess Herman Cain is my asshole of the week, just for having the gall to think he could twist nipples for forty years then run for President without recrimination. I’m fully aware that Jack Kennedy and Franklin Roosevelt did some twisting in their time, but that was before ubiquitous cameras, instant communication, and a 24 hour news cycle.
Just to be clear, I am not judging Cain a bad guy for being a butt pincher: that’s between him and his diety and his wife. I’m just saying, if you have a closet full of pissed-off women, one of them might say something when you decide to run for President.
And yes, I think Ben Rothlesburger is probably an asshole. Just sayin’.
That one puzzles me. Did Cain think he could just ignore the whole affair thing? I don’t give a flying flip about his politics but jeez. Has he not paid attention the past 20 yrs? Everything gets out.
Funny thing, we saw his bus last Tuesday on our way from Cincy to Louisville, he was headed to Michigan and then the headline the next day was Cain might suspend campaign.
By my math there are at least three candidates God has personally told to run for President – Cain, Bachmann, Perry… he/she is a bit fickle, no? Being omniscient, did he/she tell Cain to run just for shits n’ giggles when the stories broke?
All very confusing. I wish he/she would just back ONE candidate.
I suppose it is at least hypothetically possible that one or more of these candidates was either hallucinating, or not being entirely truthful. Shocking, I know.
Scumbaggery and arrogance goes hand-in-hand with politics. Just ask John Edwards. Of course, in his case the media tried their hardest not to report it.
If you’re suggesting liberal media bias, liberals would have kept quiet about the adventures of Cain’s penis, UNTIL he was the candidate, then ripped into him.
Amusingly, it was friendly fire that killed Cain. Wasn’t Romney, he’s too nice.
I don’t know that Romney leaked that story, and neither do you. I do know, however, that the media covered up for Edwards, Clinton, and that Weiner freak. They covered up, until they could cover no more. But with Cain… they reported every flimsy rumor with glee. Wonder why? I’m having a hard time figuring that one out.
Why do you want the terrorist to win?
I don’t understand why Americans are so obsessed about the sex lives of their politicians in the first place. I don’t care if Clinton splooged all over Monica’s dress, if Cain had multiple and overlapping affairs, or if John Edwards was railing Rielle Hunter up the ass five times a day, and I wonder why anyone (other than the participants themselves) does. Actual laws being broken such as sex in a public washroom (Larry Craig), or anything to do with a minor, rightfully deserve public attention, but Cain’s (et al) transgressions are between himself, his wife and the women involved.
In the United States, sexual harassment (which I won’t bother to define — you can look it up), the crime of which Cain is primarily accused, is a felony in some cases, and a misdemeanor in others. It also represents a crime against women, which we take seriously.
Dr. Gingrich has had a couple of extramarital affairs (which he acknowledges), but since everybody was an adult and no crime was committed, he gets a pass (or near-pass).
We have been provincial and probably will be again, but forgiving Bill for the women and Bush for all that cocaine made us grow up a little. A little.
Spernin’ Herman they have been calling him.
That and Herman Cain’t
If you’re going to use the debit card, why not fill the tank all the way and reduce by half the agony of the self-service carnival of assholes? I’m sure you’ve thought this through and have a good reason for visiting hell more frequently, but I am concerned about your blood pressure. I’d like you to stay alive, at least until your second novel is positively reviewed by the New York Times and Rolling Stone.
Also, even w a debit card, a lot of gas stations charge you a “debit” fee of $1-$3 every time you use your card. Man up and pump the $50 (+?) into the Jeffmobile.
Where are you going? That never happens to me.
Well slap my ass and call me Zimmy — Madona is going to be the halftime entertainment at this year’s Superbowl, presumably lip-synching her way through her greatest hit. Is it too late for me to switch my vote from Herman Cain to the National Football League?
PS…At first I read it as “Maradona to Entertain at Superbowl”. I figured, what the hell==how often do you get to see the Hand of God? Then I put my glasses on and things got much worse.
1987 called and they want their used up pop star back.
Just what we need – some old, washed out looking ho, bumping and grinding against some flit of a dancer while croaking out “Like A Virgin.”
I wished they would just put the local college marching band on as the half-time show every year.
Or a hot dog eating contest.
Only if 1 contestant has to choke to death. Make it fun and interesting.
Chuck in Belpre says
Joey Chitwood still around?
Joie Chitwood is both retired and dead, kind of like Madona, but there are alternatives…
Not really that different than the game, itself, when you stop to think about it.
Could be worse…we had Meatloaf “perform” at our Oz Football Grand Final this year…check out Mr Loaf
Ten minutes of Paradise By The Dashboard Light sounds damn good compared with Madona.
Johnthebasket.. I agree, I love the original version…but Mr Loaf ain’t got what it takes now…he should’ve retired gracefully..
Asshole of the week would be a woman who got in my line at the grocery store where I work as a cashier on the weekends. As every other person who shops there, she used her food stamp card, which I pay for but cannot qualify for one myself. And, as half of those people do, they say ahead of time “I’m not sure how much I have left on this card, so I will pay the rest in cash” After going through her sliding the card, it asks her if the full total (i.e $11.00) is “OK”. If she has less than that on it, which she knew she did, she would need to press “No”. She pressed yes, and of course, it declined it. The resulting screen said she had $7.35 left on it. I axed herr to slide the card again, she did, and when it got to the question, she pressed yes again. Then proceeded to turn around and talk to someone she knew that came in the store. I told her she needed to slide it again and explained what she needed to do. She screamed at me “Am I annoying you? I can’t believe I have to go through this on a Sunday morning” I told her the line is backing up because of her and she needs to pay attention so she can finish. She screamed again, “I’m seventy years old and don’t need any shit from you today”, which caused our poofter Flock of Seagulls looking manager came over and asked the problem. She screamed “This giant if the fucking problem. He has no respect for the elderly.” Of course poofter told me I needed to “repect” our customers, so he gets co-asshole of the month for me. He voided out her order and let her leave for free and I got written up. Definate “blow up the car” moment for me.
Asshole of the year goes to our Skelator governor, who is responsible for slashing 130-150 jobs next month in my job. Everyone here is on edge and he has no fucking clue what we do for the state. When the water dries up here, I’m hoping he is ousted with a vengeance. Douchebag.
Phil Jett says
Don’t know how you did it but if was me there would have been blood everywhere. What a couple of total assholes.
“The customer is always right” bullshit only goes so far for me. No one needs to endure abuse from any customer when trying to just do your job.
The real burn would be if she was buying baby food. You know, yet another generation on the dole.
I’m sure corporate management would love to know that this guy is training scammers that if they yell enough, he’ll give away merchandise.
So many assholes….. The refrigeration wholesalers who charged me triple but said they couldn’t print an invoice at the time and would post it out so I wouldn’t know until I’d used half of the stuff and left me with a $600 bill. Fuckers.
Kenny D. says
Like the AngryWhiteGuy, mine involves the grocery store. I believe that the Self Checkout is one of the greatest inventions in grocery store history. Seriously, I can’t do it myself and get out of here without dealing with the degenerates working behind the register?? Sign me up.
At our local grocery store, there are eight… EIGHT self checkouts! I find the one with the shortest line, a 30-40 something year old dad with his brat and less than a dozen items. Every other line seemed to have a geriatric or someone with a full cart full of shit. So the guy has already started scanning, then his brat is running all over the place, he stops grabs his kid and then has the one hand clutch on the kids shirt. So now he is trying to scan his items while holding onto his kid, clear the conveyer belt. Then he turns to me and says “You may not want to waste your life in this line”, at least he said that but seriously!? Put the brat in the buggy seat scan your shit and get out of here.
There needs to be a competency test for all the self-checkout/self-service stuff out there. If you are taking longer than it would have taken a store employee to do it, GTFO.
I also saw someone in a self checkout – 12 items or less – that had about 2 boxes of folders and she was scanning them 1 at a time. If the register says 12 items or less, it should stop your order, print a receipt and you must get back in line.
I’m all about the 1 item or less lane.
@Jeff…stfu! I’m 55 and just switched from Coke to Sprite. Oooops…I guess you’re right, lol!
Haven’t had an asshole yet…unless you count my two daughters. A-holes are hard to find here in Nome, Alaska because, like “Cheers” everybody knows your name.
Case in point….I picked up my 3rd grade kid from school. I was driving a Chevy Blazer with no windshield wiper, or brakes, (exceppt for putting on the parking brake.) I picked the kid up at school, ran the stop sign onto the main highway, and got flagged down by the Chief of Police. The stupid window didn’t roll down, so I had to open the door to talk to him.
He said, “Did you know that that was a stop sign back there?”
I said, “Uhhhh, yeah, sorry about that.”
He looked over into the truck and saw me and the kid without seatbelts and said, “”You might want to buckle up, Have a good day.”
…and my wife wonders why I don’t want to move from here!
It’s the holiday season. Everyone’s an asshole.
When I leave the house I wrap myself in invisible toilet paper and then peel off everyone’s shit before I step back into the comfort of my home.
It’s almost gotten to the point where I don’t want to leave my house during the month of December. If I thought it would do any good, I’d fill a couple of super soakers with liquid Imodium and squirt every asshole I came into contact with just to close up everyone’s pucker hole so I could leave my home and remain unmolested.
Evil Twin's Wife says
I encounter so many assholes on a regular basis, it’s hard to keep track. My main problem seems to be that my vehicle ( a mini-van, of course) is invisible. Either other drivers don’t look my way or don’t care, but they all enjoy pulling out in front of me and then driving like they died in 1974 and no one informed them.
ScottyJ in Funbar says
Jeff, my AOTW is from good ol’ Dunbar, and someone we both know. At the Christmas parade this past Friday, folks are arranging their cars on Dunbar Ave., mostly with the nose of their cars facing the street. It was cold and most folks wanted to stay warm in their vehicles so a lot of the cars were still running with the lights off or only the parking lights on.
I was there in the city lot between 12th & 13th Sts. As the spaces fill up, I notice a giant Ford van with “BATVAN” tags pull in 2 spots away. After a few minutes, I notice its headlights are still on, and they’re shining right into the windshield of a car across the street.
I told my wife that I might go ask that person to be a bit courteous and cut their headlights. She wasn’t too keen on the idea so I waited. After a few more minutes, I got out to smoke a cig and mull my idea over a bit more.
After my smoke, I decided I was gonna say something after all. I went around the front of the van, motioned for the driver to roll down the window, and I asked politely, “Hey, do you think you might do the folks across the street a favor and turn off your headlights?” He replied that he was running his engine to stay warm and that his headlights would go off automatically when he shut the engine off.
I paused for a brief moment, internally telling myself that’s what I get for trying to be a good guy and said “OK, Merry Christmas” and walked back to my car.
The folks across the street honked their horn several times but to no avail. True to his word, the lights went out when the engine shut off and his family got out to see the parade.
Merry Christmas indeed…..
Oh man, you just hit a raw nerve for me and how much I detest daytime running lights. I sit in parking lots a lot in the evenings (make whatever jokes you want) and invariably there is always some douche facing me thats too stupid to kill their dlr’s. Just turn off the lights, not the engine…
Chuck in Belpre says
I hate going down into our communal laundry room. Imagine the House of Usher with a couple washers and dryers shoved into one corner of the cellar. Anyway…there is one asshole who will fill both dryers with his laundry and then leave them there like he is waiting for the next moon phase.
That’s when you throw their shit in a garbage bag and put it oh so politely in the middle of the room.
Joey Jo Jo says
If I don’t have an AOTM, does that mean it must be me?
WB in OH says
I was worried about the same thing…damn.
Asshole of the Week — this one coworker (Jeff) at the conference I just attended.
I had never met this guy before… Jeff has a a business title like “Director of Strategic Business Development”, or something similar. Apparently this job involves spending $90,000 a year on travel, without having any obvious benefit to our company.
On the first night we were there, all eight of us went out to a steak restaurant. Jeff spent the whole dinner talking about how he likes spending $2000 on a visit to the cigar shop, or $2500 when he goes shopping for wine. These stories, even though one of the new employees there probably has a monthly take-home pay of $2500.
Jeff then finished it off with a story about our coworker who went through treatment for breast cancer in 2010… even though nobody at the table knew about it, because the lady hadn’t been telling people about her breast cancer.
Thanks for letting that secret slip, asshole!
I swear, I think I have Asshole of the Minute.
But let me point out the two that stick out in my mind.
First a foremost a huge CK (C**t Kick) to the little bitch who gave me the shittist manicure. I decided, after a long week, to stop in last Friday to treat myself. I admit, in hindsight I picked out a shitty color, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. First, she snipped my nails to a squared off dykey mannish looking length. Then she practically had my fingers bleeding while pushing and clipping my cuticles. She barely massaged my hands. Then, while I sat with my lesbo hands under the dryer, she massaged my shoulders for maybe 17 seconds. The whole episode – which is supposed to be pleasureable – was a test of misery and annoyance.
Second is one of the little insignifiant fucks I work for. Real asshole. He’s been haunting me for a new box of business cards for the past couple of weeks even though he has a stack of about 180 left. What the hell does he need more for? To wipe his ass? And seriously, what the fuck is this? 1985 when everyone had to be “cool” by passing out business cards? Nobody gives a shit.
To prove what an asshole this guy is, he actually pencils in when to make a monthly payment on his credit card. TF???
I used to get my hair cut at a place called “The Men’s Room”. Try penciling *that* in on your calendar at work.
FYI to you youngin’s: the last time I had hair, we actually did write with a pencil on a paper calendar that hung on the wall.
Here in AZ in the summer, the ‘Hispanic’ work crews will pull their truck up to the pump, under the first shade they’ve seen all day in 110 degrees, then go inside, buy this, buy that, hang around, scratch something, etc, etc, etc. They will literally leave the truck at the pump for half an hour.
I always prefer to support the local biz-ness, but when the new chain store opened up with 40 pumps, I told mom and pop gas station to fudge that noise. I haven’t been back in 5 years.
You do realize that complaining about people who work harder than you, and then get shit on by paranoid white racists makes you asshole of the week right?
And you can bust your ass all day long, you can even bust your ass for me, but that doesn’t give you the right to hog a gas pump for 2 years or the air pump.
Jeff, thank you for constantly reminding me to get off my butt and get cracking on Christmas shopping, Just placed a $97 order on Amazon via your link! More to follow!
(I probably shouldn’t hjave used “butt” and “crack” in the same sentence.)
I witnessed my asshole of the week at The Krogers. I was in line when this sixtyish fuck came barreling in and went to the service desk. He was waving his arms around and was acting like a real shitcock.
His wife had bought him a case of Coke that she thought was Diet Coke. He saw the clerk as personally responsible. The cans were silver and white (instead of the usual red) and it seems momma got confrused. He saw this as an attempt on his life because he has the diabeetus, you see.
The cans were a different color because Coke decided to send money to the polar bears every time someone bought one of the specially marked cans. This had the man outraged. He didn’t understand why anyone would send money to the polar bears. Some of his comments on the subject included: “They should send the military up there to kill every fucking one of them. Then we wouldn’t have this problem.” And, “I’d like to meet the asshole that’s going to give them bears their check. He’ll get eaten by the dirty bastards.”
The man was out of his mind but the clerk didn’t help matters. At one point I heard him say, “Imagine the ideal solution to this problem and then tell me what you see.” That pissed ME off.
Towards the end Grandpa Jones pulled a revolver with a scope on it (????????) out and started waving it around. As far as I know the police never showed up, nobody bothered to call them.
Turns out the old man wasn’t alone in his bitching. It was shared by others and Coke is yanking the white cans and replacing them with red cans.
I’ve always hated fuckers who insist on grinding low-level employees about things way over their pay level. Think the coffee shop needs to have more staff on between 6 and 10? Great idea but talk to the manager not the poor girl wearing a “Trainee” badge. Don’t like the brand selection at the beer store? The part-time kid pushing a mop probably isn’t going to be able to help you, but he still has to listen and nod his head politely pretending to care and promising to “discuss your concerns with management”. If it’s worth making the effort to bitch about, then get off your ass and bitch to the right person.
As for the complaints regarding the white Coke cans, there’s a simple solution: Learn to fucking read!
My AOTW would be the three co-workers next to me who insist on brainstorming out loud how to use their remaining vaca time before the year’s end. Mind you I am an underpaid temp who only gets unpaid time off. Am I hating? Probably but I don’t want to hear anyone whining about having too much vacation time.
My vote for AOTW is just about every “driver” in my area. They’re insane and aggressive about it.
Sam in Massillon says
For me, life is hell every time I have to fill up.
The dipshits that really get me are the people who do something stupid, then act like they just realized it, and say, “sorry” and expect that .05 seconds later they must be forgiven. Then, when you’re still staring a hole through their worthless ass, they give you the look that says,”what motherfucker? I said I’m sorry, now you have to let it go.”
AOTW is the person who does something retarded in their car like turn out into traffic 10ft in front of you, but maintains a fixed locked-on forward head and eyes. Like some kind of royal beefeater behind the wheel. You know they’re thinking, “if I don’t look, then I didn’t do anything wrong.” I dream of driving one of those logging trucks with the huge welded pipe front bumper into them and shoving their car a few blocks before stopping. I’d hop out, walk down the their mangled wreckage and yell into the hole by their face, “OH, SORRY BITCH, I WAS LOOKING STRAIGHT AHEAD AND DIDN’T EVEN SEE YOU!’
The Asshole of the Weekend Award belongs to the douchbag at the Steeler game yesterday…who slams into my boyfriend sending said boyfriend’s full, $7.25 beer flying all over him and the ground. No “I’m sorry”…”excuse me”…not even a look back to see the damage. And it’s not like he just “bumped” his arm. It was a full on head to head slam and he kept going. Fucking piece of shit.
DICKWAD! That happened to my sister at a concert. Some plastered bitch flung a beer on her. She apologized, pulled out a $20 to “pay for the damages” and my sister snatched it up quicker than a crack deal. That was one concert (Rolling Stones in Hartford, CT) where everything that could go SUCKINGLY wrong, did.
WB in OH says
Probably a Bengal fan, that’s how we roll.
I’ve heard that about you Bengal lovers.
My AHOW are the TSA.
You can’t bring more than 3oz of liquids on a plane, but dousing one’s self in an entire gallon of Tijuana Hooker perfume is quite all right.
Ehhhh… but some redemption for them tho…. I won’t go thru the new scanners, so I get a pretty decent 1 minute massage from them.
TSA doesn’t care about the amount of liquid; all they look at is the package label. So if you have, say, a 4 oz. shampoo bottle that’s almost empty, they will take it away. And what would happen if you had bought that shampoo in some country other than the US, Liberia or Burma?
Big Mike says
Between Jeff’s rant and these comments, I am having a great time reading them. This is one of the best reads here in a while. When I started reading Jeff’s story, I thought he had turned into the Angry White Guy.
Although I love (in a non-faggot-way) Jeff Kay like the long term brother I know him as, Jeff Kay cannot carry the anger load that I drag around every day like an anchor. It’s way too fucking heavy for him.
(This testimonial was brought to you by the Center For Heart Disease)
No question, my AOTW award goes to the retarded young woman who caused $3000 worth of damage to my car last week. I won’t repeat the story, but the incident pisses me off. And of course her (daddy’s) insurance is Geico, who are famous in the repair shop community for nickel-and-diming and paying below-standard labor rates.
AOTW?? My daughter in law. My thieving, lying, completely inert, utterly-without-a-life daughter in law…whose last plaintive email to me mentioned something so unbelievably, bizarrely inappropriate-having to do with my son, yet-that I still want to burn this computer out in the driveway and then run over it a few times just for having had the goddamn email IN IT. There are some things that you SIMPLY DO NOT TELL YOUR MOTHER IN LAW, YOU IDIOT. Or anyone for that matter. Holy Jesus Christ on a red unicycle. The only redeeming thing about the exchange is that for once she wasn’t hitting me up (but don’t tell hubby, he’ll just get all mad) to pay all her debts. Again. Although it would have been fun to refuse. Again.
I am looking through my copy of the Pnakotic Manuscripts as we speak looking for something that will turn her into GONE.
I responded to your Joie Chitwood line without noting that it was the only comment all day that made me laugh out loud. You make me laugh more than any other Reporter, and I need laughter in my life. Thanks…
It occurs to me that by combining the song stylings of Madonna and the action of the Joie Chitwood Daredevil show, we could enjoy the Material Girl in her aluminum bra driving on two wheels while screaming the lyrics to “Like a Prayer”.
Just a pleasant daydream.
I’ve puzzled over the Bunker Cam shot long enough—someone explain what I’m missing, please.
…and the Further Evidence too, please. WTF??
@Vickie The weiner tip dangling below the oversixed black satin teddy?
@Vickie The weiner tip dangling below the oversized black satin teddy?
LOL Nevermind-that was today’s bunker pic.