Boy, it's good to live in a place and time where everything is wonderful.
I'm a very lucky guy.
It's good that we can all get along.
If you'll be nice to me, I'll be nice to you.
Oh, heck, that's too much pressure... If you don't don't throw dog feces at me or slash my tires, I'll be nice to you.
That's all I wanted to say...
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I promise not to throw any kind of poopy at you, but the tire slashing, maybe.
Don't listen to him people, he just had a very good run in the past six hours.
1. Friday afternoon - Kicked my butt golfing to the tune of $1.25 (I still owe him a quarter). He hit the ball better than ever and is excited about golfing with the Asians (who bet much more money against him than I) on Saturday.
2. Had a wonderful dinner and immediately thereafter got some more home-cooking (see sex) from his beloved Liz.
So, DUH!
...I knew that there was something behind all of that joy and mirth.
So that's where the 'lucky' part came in...
Dog feces is for amateurs. Heat seeking missiles, there's my forte.
I was looking for a picture of you golf buddies standing in a circle holding hands and singing cum-bye-yaa...
Glad you had a good day and beat T playing golf, don't let him get away with owing you that quarter!!!
I'm not willing to make that deal. I'm sorry.
C'mon! How can you not have faith in a man who rejects the .50 caliber BMG in favor of a tiny 6.2mm bullet?
Oh, dear. Just let me say sir, I can't believe how the world often overlooks your gift and insight! It's us against them! Don't kill me!
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