Due to a recent incarceration, we’ve missed a few sock orders. Rest easy, we’ve found, and filled them and they’re on their way.
We gotta stop lurking around the grade schools as we do, it usually lands us in the pokey.
You’ll get your footwarmers soon enough, and when you do, kindly shove one of them right up your stink chute.
‘Fuck you’ to conventional thinking, ‘fuck you’ to archaic and puritan philosophies, or simply just ‘fuck you’ to an unwillingness or inability to see the world around you with an open mind.
Sometimes however, you can just do it with a camera. Short of that you could always just start breaking windows.
Normally the whole “Dr Evil” thing is grounds for incineration, but in this case, the subject at hand is a doctor, and any bar that is named after – and then quotes – our dearly departed Bon Scott, well, that’s the wagon we’re hooking our horse to.
Apparently, everything is ok with our official mascot. He’s still the International Sack Champ we all came to love, some of us more than others, namely chicks. We don’t know how the little bastard did it, but once a girl got on the Bus or the Falcon, they became helpless, defenseless, and soon enough pants-less. Maybe it was the size of his sack, we don’t know, but the little fucker sure got laid a lot. Chicks totally can’t help themselves when they’re around him. I mean, just look at the little bastard.
handsome little fucker?
And in other news, if you wear that really punk rock jacket to the show, you know, that one you put all the studs in while listening to Black Flag and huffing paint, well, one of us just might up the ante on you.
where have all the good times gone?
But that man over there with a bicycle box, and no other luggage? He will have to pay $100.00 extra both ways.”
When matter meets matter at speed, especially when nothing matters, new matter is about to be put forth upon open space. And from there, expand.
We’re happy to have so many secret agents out there. We’re happy just to get up in the morning, though it comes with its own caveat of most likely just getting loaded again. Work? Ride!
Our version of Blue is out in Iowa, along with several other octogenarians.
Of course, there are agents out there we only dream about.
Nice bike! Wait, that is a bike, right?
Uh oh, we’ve once again crossed the line of the religious. Well, we don’t give much of a shit about religion anyhow…all that pie-in-the-sky hocus pocus shit is for crazy people. But, we do have our own version of Jesus.
Quenton sends this one in, and boy howdy it’s a winner.
What if?
What if fast food icons settled down to party with a load of drugs and some strippers? Why, it’d look like THIS, that’s what.
