Was it just me or were the cameras of STO exceptionally long-winded with my suited-up (and playing!) David Dellucci yesterday in Seattle?
And why did it take me four times to properly correct the misspelling of “Seattle”?
And how odd to receive a phone call from Philly while watching the Braves have their bats shoved up their asses nice and good by the Phillies?
And quite simply… the Phillies??
And why wouldn’t the Miller Lite girls give me a pair of bootie shorts INSTEAD of eleven free beers at Blind Pig last night?
And at that bar, why did the older gentleman tease me by stating he knew where Garko lived (I may or may not have been salivating again, longingly, at the immense protrusion of love-ness known as “his ass”) , but failed to hand over the apartment number?
No related posts.
Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.
