James makes a good caveman. It’s lucky that Logan got there when he did. Another half hour and James would have been invading his neighbours yard to increase his holdings of land and gnome-slaves.
Reminds me of the time my boys and I went to the roller rink and got trashed on the way home. We were practically free riding
with nothing but my truck and boos.Their mother never found out, thank god. Who knows what would happen to our marriage…..
Not getting why this cat didn’t knock/ring the doorbell instead of conceding so easily. Sounds like it could be a frat house and the case of beer would support that, but the porch, lawn chair & gnome make it seem like a place that he could have easily gotten someone’s attention via means other than a phone call. I also fail to understand why I have devoted so much time & thought to something that I don’t give a fuck about.
hah! heya crusto! I wondered where you was at, old son.
I figured that mrs.crusty was keeping you under the thumb – taking the sprog to the park in its wee perambulator and such forth.
Unless his middle name is Miles Davis and he pulls out a fucking saxophone in the next 30 seconds I couldn’t give a flying fuck what term it is so you can keep your cancerous polyp insults to your pre op self you dirty little transgender homo. Go suck a nut.
I just as say have time for work and beer. And food.
Got pissed, did something stupid…. man… no one has stories like that.
Dumb bitch. Fake.
It took him 23 minutes to get that drunk?
^ Probably was drunk before he got home.
James makes a good caveman. It’s lucky that Logan got there when he did. Another half hour and James would have been invading his neighbours yard to increase his holdings of land and gnome-slaves.
Sounds plausible and also I like these guys.
They embellish, but ill give it a B-
Reminds me of the time my boys and I went to the roller rink and got trashed on the way home. We were practically free riding
with nothing but my truck and boos.Their mother never found out, thank god. Who knows what would happen to our marriage…..
^that’s a pretty fucking limp anecdote there, chief. Guess ya had to be there, huh?
Not getting why this cat didn’t knock/ring the doorbell instead of conceding so easily. Sounds like it could be a frat house and the case of beer would support that, but the porch, lawn chair & gnome make it seem like a place that he could have easily gotten someone’s attention via means other than a phone call. I also fail to understand why I have devoted so much time & thought to something that I don’t give a fuck about.
Cos he’s not a fucking cat you malignant waste of life.
^’cat’ is a jazz term you cancerous polyp.
hah! heya crusto! I wondered where you was at, old son.
I figured that mrs.crusty was keeping you under the thumb – taking the sprog to the park in its wee perambulator and such forth.
and “boo’s” are obv. a mario brothers reference…Hank hangs out with ghosts in his pick-up truck down there in ‘bama!
Unless his middle name is Miles Davis and he pulls out a fucking saxophone in the next 30 seconds I couldn’t give a flying fuck what term it is so you can keep your cancerous polyp insults to your pre op self you dirty little transgender homo. Go suck a nut.
I just as say have time for work and beer. And food.
Miles Davis was a trumpeter not a saxophonist.
ZING!