My wife went to the store last night and bought ice cream and toppings to make sundaes. I just want everyone to know; I am not putting something called "nut topping" on anything I eat.
I have a squirrel living in my back yard that warms his nuts on our dryer vent every time it snows.
I congratulate Serena Williams for playing the Australian Open so well with commentator Pam Shriver's lips securely stuck to her over sized butt.
My friend, who can't talk on a phone while he eats hash browns, called me to disagree. I ordered him a pizza and he said he would call me back later.
When will the LPGA realize no one wants to see ugly chicks play on TV?
Does Joe Francis ever look at Hugh Hefner and Larry Flint and think, "Rich or not, I am going to be a creepy old man someday"?
In a fair fight, between Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie, I don't care who would win, I just want to watch.
I watch repeats of the 70's Show and realize I am no longer Steven Hyde. I am now Red Foreman. But that's OK because Hyde and his friends are dumb-asses.
If the government looks closely at my life I should be eligible for a disaster loan.
I notice if I put pictures of hot tennis chicks on my blog posts I get more hits.
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