Monday, August 4, 2008
I can't figure this out. Is she about to faint, but needs to use the bathroom or she'll make a mess all over the court? Is the woman behind her hugging her or offering marionette-like assistance in her tenuous situation? Either way, that girl does not look pleased. I imagine because she had the opportunity to pee earlier, but was like, "nah, I'll be fine, what-ev" and now she's all about to pee all over herself. Or something. Yeah, looks like a case of Missed Pee Regret. Often seen on long car trips.
That is a ridiculously large fish. My question is, in going out for something like that, were sandals really the best footwear choice? I would think his feet are going to smell like fish ass for a while after that little trip. Seriously.
Hi. I'm grasping at whatever fleeting shards of fame's icy handshake I possibly can, because I don't want to disappear and become a Trivial Pursuit answer. My girlfriend (?!) "leaked" a "sex tape" recently, and boy was I "pissed"! See? I'm still relevant! All kinds of big (hey!) stars have sex tapes, right? Right? Also, I have little tiny sausage penis fingers.
I don't know what the hell this lady is so mad about, but the look on the girl's face says it all. Grandma, fuck right off before I take your AARP card and choke you with it.
Now this... this is really something. Where does one begin when asking questions about this picture? I honestly can't even form a single coherent thought because my brain is so busy trying to comprehend the fact that a picture like this actually exists with no sense of irony attached to it. This one can be like an open-ended question on a test: you look at the picture and provide the context for it. I'll get the ball rolling.
And in an instant, Barry knew that this might be his one and only moment to shine. He had meticulously applied his makeup that night, just as he always did, always to be passed over for more svelte, style-conscious roller dancers at the Sandusky Skateporium. But no one could have accounted for mass-pileup of twisted ankles and shattered hopes that occurred on the dance floor at the conclusion of Detroit Rock City. In the gleam of the ambulance lights, (that, really, sort of blended in to the flashing lights inside the rink anyway) Barry calmly and proudly strutted to the center of the floor and began his routine as the first, glistening guitar strands of Magic Man filled the room. Suddenly, he was alone, and knew what he had to do. It was time to show Downtown Sandusky just what Barry LeFevre had been up to all summer. It was time to make Linda sorry that she had ever left him for Brad and his T-Top. A single flashbulb erupted, and everything faded into a swirl of blond wig and legend...