The title of this post is in regards to the “I’m feeling lucky” button (IFL) on Google, not to the fact that I think there is a high probability that I will get laid tonight… but shit, ya never know. Anyway, I haven’t used that particular button in a while, mostly because it has little value, especially after stumble came out, and I like to see my options before jumping in. Lately, the searches I toss into IFL end up on urban dictionary (like this) or wikipedia… actually, that probably says a lot about me.
However, there were a couple of searches that ended up “interesting” like:
Yesterday, good ole vagina-neck Thompson dropped out of the race for the GOP Presidential candidacy (click here for full article). The Total Diatribe crack (smoking) action news-team originally broke the story of Thompson’s vaginal neck and how it would effect his voting draw in November. It now appears that Total Diatribe’s ability to positively correlate Thompson’s conflicting messages of an increase in the war on terror and the military industrial complex (MIC) with tax reform (cuts) and government spending reforms to his vagina-neck have created too much pressure for Thompson to continue in the race. The first signs of trouble were seen after his lackluster campaign placed third (basically a tie for third w/ McCain) in the Iowa caucuses behind Huckabee and Romney. Ever since then there have been sightings of a suspicious substance near his va-jay-jay neck. My first thought was, “holy shit, Huckabee must have banged him in his vagina neck! Sick!”, but upon closer inspection by the TD action news-team, it appears that Thompson’s neck has contracted a yeast infection and he has been treating it with over-the-counter ointment. I just knew the pressure would be too much for him, good luck to you Thompson, and please don’t allow Huckabee to get close to your neck.
Happy New Year! Almost. Today is New Year’s Eve, a time of reflection of the past year (both positive and negative), and of planning for change with the new year and the creation of your new year’s resolutions. I will post on my resolutions tomorrow. But more importantly, New Year’s Eve is a time to get fucked up. This is the biggest party night of the year and oft times the most anticipated. Just be careful out there kids and don’t end up like the folks below. Have a safe and happy New Year and try not to get thrown in the pokey tonight.
I’ve been nursing a robo-stomach-virus for almost a week now. I will spare you the gory details, yeah right, I was pissing out of my ass for 4 straight days people! I finally mustered the strength to stop feeling sorry for myself and get my (bruised) ass back to work. About that time, the ass-pissing turned into an unbelievable string of ass-gas (there must be some research describing how the absence of stuff in the digestive track will be replaced with a shit-load of gas).Â
Now I’m back at work. Don’t you just hate it when somebody walks into your office 30 seconds after you rip a disgusting fart that steams up the windows? You pretend there is no smell, your visitor pretends there is no smell, but it’s still fucking there, burning your nostrils.
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