This is hilarious: this is about the only type of bra I do not own. But then, I have this birthday coming up…and thanks to the Celebrity Boob Twin test, you all know my size.
You Are a Flashy Red Bra! |
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You’re a charmer, with your pick of the men. But you want a man who’s as magnetic as you are. You need someone who can keep up with your all night gab fests! |
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The life of the dog, that is. Ingrid isn’t your average pound pitbull; she’s got a critical circulatory disability which means she needs to be on Viagra for the rest of her life. She’s small, and only four, so figure on a lifespan in excess of twelve years here. And, apparently, only the $10 per pill Viagra will do: no generic Cialis for this chowhound.
“We were really worried she wouldn’t make it,” Stein said during a phone interview with WNBC.com. “There was such a turnaround after or week or so of the Viagra; she just became a new dog. She perked up and was lively, just like any other dog.”
The Adoption Center is now seeking Viagra donations from people in the area to keep Ingrid alive. Stein said the shelter cannot afford to continually pay $10 for each Viagra pill.
“If 200 people could send us just one pill, that would be good for seven months,” Stein said.
Stein said that when Ingrid is adopted, the shelter will provide a lifetime supply of Viagra to the owner.
Seriously, this is some bestiality nut’s dream pet. Can’t wait for the upcoming news reports of what happened the first time the pit bull wasn’t in the mood.
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I’m kind of disappointed my blogging diploma isn’t from Miskatonic, but that’s nothing a little hacking won’t fix.
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Blogging Degree
From Go-Quiz.com
And this reminds me, it does, of the time my mother wanted to buy me a Doctorate from Harvard.
She was living in Saudi Arabia, as one does, shacked up with a CIA agent whose job it was to teach battlefield communications to the Saudis. As one does.
Islam was the bane of his existence, as five times a day no matter what they’d all pull out their rugs and face mecca and present a nice, juicy target to the Israelis. No indeed, this did not take him to his happy place, for yea, he was a very conscientious battlefield communications instructor. Over and over he lectured them, over and over he proved that the Israelis could wipe them all out at any of those five, widely known and unvarying times of day. And over and over they happily replied “if the Israelis kill us we will go straight to Paradise as martyrs,” and I believe one of them even made a reference to that bugger, I can’t kill him when he’s praying scene in Hamlet, obviously stretching to try to find some common ground with Jerry the Baptist, out in the wild Arabian desert.
As a sideline, Jerry ran the local casino and house of ill repute, which brought in several times his salary, and which he was allowed to keep because what his bosses were truly interested in was the blackmail material gathered by the tiny cameras placed strategically around the premises. He also had the local distribution rights for Johnny Walker, which was as the mines of King Solomon in terms of putting out the gelt.
Where was I? Oh yes, about to get to the religious police.
Naturally, Jerry was quite conscious of the activities of the religious police. The main trouble with the religious police was, as you can imagine, that they tended to be quite…well, there’s really no way around this, I’m just going to have to come out and say it… quite religious.
And the whole living-in-sin-with-a-Canadian-and-a-socialist-at-that thing was exactly the sort of thing with which they were Not Cool.
At. All.
Now, Jerry and my mother were by no means originals in their living arrangements, which did tend to give a rather louche reputation to even the primmest Mormon that the Yanks sent over, and so, as always happens where there are problems and lots of money around, a man materialized with a solution.
He materialized at the same time every year, swinging through the Middle East like an olden days tinker would swing through, say, Simcoe County, offering his wares.
He was a Filipino forger, and he was a very busy man.
They took one of the American marriage licenses for $250, which is really cheap for a piece of paper that you show the religious police and they don’t have you stoned, when you think about it, really, and my mother pondered long over the very tempting Harvard Doctorate, but decided that even she was not overpaid enough to spend $500 and besides, what would she get my sister, eh? Answer me that!
That year she got a camel saddle and I got a silver veil. Gee, I guess Mom DID love me best, even if she thought I was ugly.
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You know those books…the For Dummies books. They’re pretty good books, all in all, but every now and again they come out with one that makes you think at least some of their target audience works at their headquarters.
Sex for Dummies.
Think about it. Look around you. I’m not sure where you live, but around these parts the dummies are breeding like rabbits. Even Britney‘s managed to drop a couple of spawn, and she’s just a puppy herself. At this rate by 2020 most of Southern California will be descended from Britney Spears, God help them.
But here’s a fellow who knows his station; ya gotta luv him. Me hearts dumb people who know they’re dumb and who know that’s a bad thing. Don’t give me any of this “Dumb Pride” stuff: that shit is whack. It was Camus, the wise, who said that it was the moral responsibility of the intelligent to oppress the stupid, otherwise the stupid would take over the world. I see some of us have been slacking a bit, and just look how that’s turned out!
But Shiv Charan Yadav knows his place and his duty to the gene pool. He’s sworn not to marry until he’s passed his high school exams. He is now 73 and has just failed his 38th attempt. It’s like poor, sweet, decorative John-John, only more like John-John-John-John-John-John-John-John-John-John-John-John-John- times – 38. Without the looks, money, family, or fame. Or, on the plus side, the pilot’s license.
Shiv Charan Yadav has been taking the exams – normally given to schoolchildren at the age of 15 -every year since 1969, without success. He was in his 30s when he first decided to better himself through education.
This year, he failed everything except Sanskrit, scoring only 103 out of a possible 600 points.
Also, he wants to marry a girl under thirty. Yeah, do you wonder if the papers would happen to be graded by twentysomething local females…it would explain alot.
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I’m really rather surprised I didn’t get Padma Lakshmi’s octoboobies, but I didn’t. I’m also surprised Jessica Simpson is a 34D. She looks much more Russ Myersian than that, you’da thunk.
Also, I should get bonus points; my boobs are free range and organic. Hers are battery boobs, and only guaranteed for ten years, I think. And if you read US you know where they’ve been.
Your Celebrity Boob Twin: |
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Jessica Simpson |
Who’s Your Celebrity Boob Twin?
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raincoaster 