August 31, 2008
Note to self
Don’t wear yellow shirt to Ikea.
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- Rick Neece: Asian calligraphy, ‘cept instead of a brush, hot glass. The image of her controlling the glass and...
- Rick Neece: For the gull-wing, I’m sure it would knock me in the chin every time I opened it.
- Marco: Oh god yes.
- Rick Neece: Chuck, testes, testes, One-Two-Three. I can hear you breathing. (TAP,TAP,TAP) “Is this thing...
- Joel Bernstein: Chuck Testa
- Rick Neece: I know the Jag has gone through changes since Ford owns the company. It makes me a little sad for the...
- Michael Smith: WRONG, I’m anime FREAK.
- Rick Neece: I hear you. (The last Taurus we had, I’m sure you’re referring to. Built with an oval in...
- Marco: I’ll admit in the privacy of this forum to liking some of the Tauri, but that particular model year was...
- Rick Neece: Thanks, Josh.
- k: Somebody pulled her the fuck out of that house, didn’t they? She’s going to end up in a hospital at...
- picturerock: I drive a Dodge Ram, and the bumper sticker on the back says, “Eatin’ Teslas, Shittin’...
- Joel Bernstein: The father responds
- Carole Corlew: Kathy, it’s in the blood! I have old windows in the garage that I use for that, too. And I...
- Kathy: Carole, you are so so like my father. He built his own mini greenhouse to start his seedlings using the frame...
Years ago a group of us went to the British Grand Prix. A mate wore a bright-yellow t-shirt branded with the logos of the now-defunct Jordan team.
Such was the yellowness of the shirt, that every single insect for miles became convinced he was a flower. He was infested with the things all day.