My wife and I went into town and visited a shop. When we came out, there was a cop writing out a parking ticket. We went up to him and I said, “Come on man, how about giving a senior citizen a break?” He just ignored us and continued writing the ticket.
I called him an “a**hole.” He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having worn-out tires.
So my wife called him a “s*ithead.” He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing more tickets.
This went on for about 20 minutes. The more we abused him, the more tickets he wrote. He finally finished, sneered at us and walked away. Just then our bus arrived, and we got on it and went home.
We always look for cars with Bernie Sanders stickers. We try to have a little fun each day now that we’re retired. It’s so important at our age!!
Good morning, and welcome to another edition of Hunky Hump Day. I scheduled this one ahead of time because trying to poat or even comment here is difficult when RoamyDad is being nosy.
Thinking of Scott, Laura, and Pupster.
There has been an event that cannot go unmentioned. One that will betray the trust we all put into one of America’s greatest institutions.
I was carrying out one of the greatest pleasures that all Americans enjoy all too often. A task where we celebrate the labors of our fellow Americans at the pinnacle of their everyday efforts. Something everyone can be proud of, something everyone does without much thought, but the impact of which will reach down to the core of the self. Such a delightful experience, with a beautiful globally warmed environment keeping my temperature at an elevated level.
After arriving home from my enlightened journey through the aisles of one of America’s greatest institutions, I was unaware of the events about to unfold. I let my guard down. I relaxed. I was not at the peak of my abilities. this made the tragedy that much more astounding.
It was during the preparations for the upcoming week that the full effect of events would hit me like a ton of bricks. I held aloft the sword of Damocles, ready to dispatch an unsuspecting victim to the list of accomplishments that must be completed to fulfill the week, when I witnessed the unfolding of the tragedy to befall all tragedies.
I’m just gonna apologize in advance for what’s about to happen here today. Deeply, and with heartfelt empathy for your flaccid donut, I’m sorry.
Today’s musical selection is of the deep hizouse variety and features a smokin’ hot Eastern European babe as the visual accompaniment to a lovely track. I wrote this while measuring the hourly bacteria count on countertop butter. That’s a lie. I didn’t write this song. I’ll allow you a second to recover.
Honestly, I feel bad about this. Brandy Talore is a former adult movie star, turned professional trailer trash, back to porn, then back to full time trash. She got her start in the yogurt catching business after a brief stint as a nude model. But fear not, she made sure that her family knew what she was doing. It’s also posited that her rather large udders and nips were the products of nursing two children all before the advanced age of 22. Nine years later Brandy called it quits but then briefly came back to the biz in 2017. To say that the off camera years were a bit hard on her is like saying that Illan Omar has the grace of a debutante. Poor fap disaster!
I had someone say to us “that’s not the last $5000 mistake you’ll make.”
The number really isn’t important because it’s relative, however, it’s the permission from ourselves to make the wrong decision. It happens to everyone. And it will not end life as we know it unless it’s some dummy like Biden fooling around and bragging about having access to the nuclear codes.
My husband often says after we (or our children) make a decision, “now, make it the best decision.” Which of course means, make it work.
