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Don’t hate me because I’m bieütiful.
I sometimes live a blessed life.
I mean, it’s not one of Caligulan excess, but it’s pretty good.
Hey.. I’ll tell ya..
I drink too much. The last time I gave a urine sample it had an olive in it.
And on the eighth day, God created neurotic, type A wing nuts.
As we get to the bottom of the barrel, and are scraping it with our gigantic silver spoon, our minds are as pure as our bodies are tainted.
Image and corresponding story via The Bunnyhawk.
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One for the weekend from Dahlonega Wheelworks.
“I just grew a beard, punched my mother and spontaneously combusted.”
Are You There Friday? It’s Me, Margaret.
As I mentioned on Monday, I sometimes have an inbox jam packed with so many piles of the unorganizeable, it would make Fred Sanford green with envy;
Or at the very least, put a bow on a hat and proudly display it with Lamont.
Madness rhyming with radness.
In reference to the major league B.S. occurring in Vail that I mentioned on Saturday, I have come up with slews of news relating to D.A. Mark Hurlbert.
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