I’ve been cranking these posts out for a while . . . I need a Tona.
Where is that damn n-yay when you need it on this godforsaken American-style keyboard?
OK . . . Back to reality.
The pilot on the flight home said that as we were departing, and everyone in the jet laughed. I don’t think anyone else in the plane had been so far removed from the reality as I.
I am the Haganator, a super sex robot sent back through time to change the operation of one lucky website and make sure that each picture opens up in the same window.
 I ran out of gas . . . again. Luckily, I was about a kilometer away from the entrance to the park. This would be the last time I ran out of gas. I have to admit, this and the last time I ran out of gas were really not completely my fault. When the guy stole my keys and I ripped off my gas cap, I lost gas mileage when I used a pierced condom to cover the gas tank cover.
Oh, I didn’t tell you about the guy stealing my gas cap, did I? Read more . . . |
