Happy Tuesday, Spursland! Go on, wake up, get your brain together, it's time to go to work. Yes, you did make the mistake of drinking nine whiskeys instead of four last night and yes, just knowing how long some of you have been commenting on this blog you are too old for that shit on a work night, but pop a handful of aspirin and get your ass out the door.
Now, as many of you might have notice,d I haven't been around for awhile. I was on my sojourn up in Quebec. I'd like to give a big thanks to Skipjack for filling in, I don't know why you all hate him.
Now during my time up there among the French speaking peoples, my traveling partner and long suffering girlfriend noticed a change in me. There was a general calming of my demeanor and a lack of my usual, just under the surface rage that tends to erupt at unsuspecting passersby for things as little as wearing a bandana, cut off t-shirt AND compression shorts to the gym. I, being from the Northeastern portion of the United States of America, tend to be an angry guy. And while surrounded by French Canadians who are seriously the nicest most god damn considerate people I have ever met, my lady and I thought I was begging to change. That is util our eminent return crept closer. It was at that point that instead of changing from a spitting cobra just looking to spray venom in any direction into a docile, neutered puppy I realized I was actually just storing up nine days worth of rage like a crocodile storing up the sun's energy to release in a violent arc of carnage on an unsuspecting antelope.
Let's do this.
Oh pipe down, kid. The best teams stick with their managers, but the best teams also have good managers. The best teams have managers that don't have temper tantrums akin to petulant toddlers and they sure as hell have managers that know that wearing a ski vest from the wardrobe department of Say Anything is not appropriate for this level of managing.
For those that are painfully unaware, the selfie is the single greatest and newest symptom of the self-centered douchebaggery that plagues the current landscape of human existence. It is our generation's polio. If you are a taker of selfies, please do us all a favor and go to your nearest zoo, find the largest predatory animal enclosure, cover yourself in siracha and climb on in. Stop needing so much attention, you goons. That being said, I will be at the Comedy Cabaret in North East Philadelphia on (yes, how ironic) Roosevelt Boulevard Wednesday night at 8 pm.
I bet this fucker's entire photo collection is selfies he took while nude on a bed of freshly laundered, ill gotten gains.
This preoccupation probably explains why she hasn't been in a commercially successful film since I have legally been allowed to drink. Get your shit together, you mildly talented giggle machine.
AHAHAHAHA it serves you right, you no shoulder mass having excuse for an athlete. How can one person have so many bad tattoos and yet be so physically under developed? It violates the New Jersey law of shirtless men's first, second and fifth tenants. Jesus, he looks about as intimidating as those old photo's of Churchill fresh out of Sandhurst with that ridiculous mustache trying to look more butch. Least intimidating person I have ever seen. I hope I meet him in a dark alley and he demands my wallet so I can kick his ass with just the force of my laughter. I'm surprised that kick even connected considering this dude's chin is about as present on his face as Bill Clinton was present on his draft day.