Who The Hell ARE You People?

I was just laying here on my ass. waiting for the GF to get finished primping so we can go get some breakfast when I noticed my Stat Counter is over a hundred and ninety seven fucking thousand hits.

That absolutely blows my fucking mind.

Seriously.

Who are you? Why do you waste your precious time in life stropping by this piss poor excuse for a Blog?

Don't be shy, if you are one of those folks who drops by occasionally but never leaves a fucking comment, why?

I want to hear from you, leave some goddamn feedback, even if I don't say howdy right back, I will damn sure read what you have to say.

Don't like the cussing?
LOL, get used to it. Something else on your mind?
Speak the fuck up.

If there are a hundred and ninety thousand some people that have stopped by here in the last five years and you are one of 'em, Thanks.  It baffles me why, but Thanks.

Now I have some scrambled eggs calling my name.

Off To A Wedding

I HATE them. The only damn thing any good about a wedding is the buzz that I catch before, during and after one.
You think I'm kidding, I even took a shot of whiskey in the middle of my great aunts funeral once.
Kinda the same thing, now that I mention it.
Y a gotta be good to get away with that shit, it's all a matter of position, always sit in the back, preferably with a co conspirator for look out and to block the view.

Anyways, It's my nieces wedding, on a fucking Thursday, in downtown Portland.
Great choice there honey, nothing like trying to find a place to park and then having to fuck with rush hour.
Ah well, I'll be relaxed, it ain't my fucking wedding. All I have to do is show up and take care of both of my 96 year old grannies.
It ain't like I can't out run them, should be a piece of cake.

Back later with the gruesome details.
Mutter, mutter, fucking weddings.

Heading Out

Going out of town, back l8ter.
If ya can't be good, stay sanitary.

Proof Of Evolution!

This little fucker HAS to be in my family tree somewhere.