Although I still think Laird Hamilton is a jerk for criticizing the flowers I gave to Gabrielle Reece my junior year in high school at our Prom Promise event (“Dude, they’re wilted.”), this is still pretty insane.
Seriously though, who rips on a 16-year old kid trying to hit on your rich, professional athlete girlfriend?
I bought 37 cats to calm my wife. She is fighting them for territory. They have claimed the toiletries, but the yarn afghan is apparently ours. It doesn’t filter out the slightest of smells. One of the Tabby cats has fish gas and we elected her Prime Minister. The vote was rigged. No end in sight. Dog and I might storm the carpet tree. Boy is useless. Kiddie pool is solid. The end is nigh.
Guy 1: You see that fuckin’ bear on four?
Guy 2: Yeah! I looked over and I was like, “Look at that fuckin’ bear!”
Guy 1: Those traps were super fuckin’ steep, though.
Guy 2: Super steep. I need like a sweet white wine or something.
My carry-on is 128 pounds, major downfall of being in the glass industry.
It’s loaded with samples, so the TSA agent said they couldn’t scan through it. I almost got her a worker’s comp claim as she unloaded it from the belt for a second inspection. We both agreed “It’s too early for this type-a-shit.”