tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-266675062024-03-07T01:10:42.812-08:00blorlak the prettyi live in a small tent behind the liquor storeayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-58771615053827504262007-05-07T08:12:00.000-07:002007-05-07T08:22:58.690-07:00ahahah losers<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">for some reason, people have been clicking on this, even though i haven't updated it in three months. blogging seems secondary when you want to stick your head in an oven, but there's TOO MUCH GOOD STUFF RIGHT NOW!!</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />i have oh so much to say about that rat-face asshat, paris hilton, GOING TO THE CLINK Y'ALL! that judge is seriously one hot ho. a real american hero that one. seriously, this is more heroic than saving thirty-seven orphans from a burning orphanage.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">but first, real-life, buffoonery overheard in the city this weekend on saturday. i was having lunch on saturday on a patio, and was witness to what can on</span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">ly be described as 'THE WORST FIRST DATE EVER.' they were sitting next to me, and the girl was insanely pretentious. she at one point described a photograph as </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-family:arial;" >"almost post-darwinian..."</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? the poor guy!!! i bet that's the kind of girl that cries during sex...<br /><br />and, just cuz i always have a picture, here's some randomness...GO SENS!!! DESTROY THE BUFFALO G</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3pcgExdlnz0kebaHBWQLlHPulLsr-yIt9L4Kb1u_Fll11eHerfDmYVizm4RIJO2TSDoyMiAgP2_jbdIoQ00qBd8L2qj6erSDq8h3Ea5zPHF22TR6WuQbUtUAX8oT4jDUI1cAA/s1600-h/SENATORS+LOGO-col.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3pcgExdlnz0kebaHBWQLlHPulLsr-yIt9L4Kb1u_Fll11eHerfDmYVizm4RIJO2TSDoyMiAgP2_jbdIoQ00qBd8L2qj6erSDq8h3Ea5zPHF22TR6WuQbUtUAX8oT4jDUI1cAA/s400/SENATORS+LOGO-col.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061838744824136146" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">AYBRES!!<br /><br />ha. get it? see what i did there? shut up.<br /></span></span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-62897966338588970342007-02-23T09:17:00.000-08:002007-02-23T09:21:08.946-08:00don't eff with the hef<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3thLIHBECgPRTfZ_5O1uuFqTYiIfxxHdBWyqydfuxf42Ded8bxhCjNOsacsx34Fv3qVHXKg9HMbgPcCtVq6DwiDEkEJ2coAo9JcXZT1G-J0eUGeyIM2KkpyX9x3ZLxIcx_SG/s1600-h/SENATORS+LOGO-col.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3thLIHBECgPRTfZ_5O1uuFqTYiIfxxHdBWyqydfuxf42Ded8bxhCjNOsacsx34Fv3qVHXKg9HMbgPcCtVq6DwiDEkEJ2coAo9JcXZT1G-J0eUGeyIM2KkpyX9x3ZLxIcx_SG/s400/SENATORS+LOGO-col.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034780634111380386" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">inside the playboy mansion<br />(</span></span></span><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">cut n' pasted from the above link...i found this riveting...)<br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica;font-size:+1;"><i><b>Inside the PlayBoy Mansion</b></i></span><br />Whelp, I read a book about “behind the scenes at the Playboy mansion”, which was written by one of his ex girlfriends, Izabella St. James, who was one of the seven girlfriends. She was there when Holly & Bridget came, and describes how it downsized to three, includes the incentives Hef gives the girls, the duties of the girls and sex with Hef. I wrote a pretty detailed summary behind the cut & separated it into categories, ENJOY!<br /><br /><a name="cutid1"></a><br /><b>Incentives of being a Girlfriend</b><br />When an event such as the Grammy’s is coming up, Hef will give them $2000 for an outfit, hair and whatever else. Later, the amount went down to $1000 and for some girls, none.<br />Every Friday morning the girls get $1000 for the week. You have about an hour to get this money, and if you’re out of town or sleep in too late, you won’t get your money for the week & no, you can’t ask for an advance if you know you won’t be at the mansion that day, no excuse – including family emergency. You need to go to Hef’s room between about 8-9 in the morning, and ask for your money. This is usually the time that Hef will tell you what you can do better or change.<br />For your birthday, girls usually ask for plastic surgery because Hef never hesitates to say yes. Girls usually ask for the thing they want the most first, incase they’re not around for a second birthday. Breasts & nose jobs are the most common thing, then theirs things like liposuction and veneers.<br />Hef use to buy the girls brand new cars, however that got dramatic. One girlfriend got an Escalade and then drove it down to her other BF’s house in the middle of the night, trying not to get caught, but she did, so Hef stopped buying the girls cars flat out and brand new. Now, he’ll buy them used cars with the agreement that when they leave the mansion, they take over payments for the car & insurance.<br />Hef is also very generous with animals; he will let the girls buy whatever pets they want and he’ll pay them back for it.<br />If you want to go out of town, you have to ask for permission and he doesn't always grant it. Family emergencies don't really matter to him either, but if you cry you will most likely get your way.<br /><br /><b>Duties of a Girlfriend</b><br />Sex is not one of them; Hef tells the girls that if they don’t want to have sex or “join in” on the fun, they don’t have too. But he encourages them to be in the bedroom when the sexing is going on.<br />The girls must attend events with Hef, Movie night, Fun in the Sun Sundays, Parties at the mansion (they can each invite 5 people), Club nights (2-3 a week) & misc. other things. This gives the girls the day to them selves, but their nights are filled by Hef, pretty much.<br /><br /><b>Behind Being a Girlfriend</b><br />The girlfriends have a curfew of 9pm, no exceptions. The girls have to be in, every night, by 9pm. Many of the girlfriends also have boyfriends on the side (Bridget is said to have a husband) that Hef knows about, but doesn’t allow them to see or talk to, it’s not talked about much. Most of the GF's also have apartments somewhere else that they go to during the day. One ex-GF had a daughter that Hef would allow to spend one night at her apt with her daughter a week, but she also had a husband at her apartment.<br /><br /><b>Sexxx with Hef</b><br />Sex is usually on Club nights; the girls and Hef go out to clubs, they scout other girls or invite other girls to go with them. When they leave the club, they’re all pretty drunk. In the limo, the main girlfriend would give Hef head while other girls kiss on him or each other. By the time they get to the house, everyone is rearing and ready to go. All the girls plus the girls they scouted at the club, would return to Hef's room where he would pop some Viagra’s and rubs himself down in baby oil. There’s usually toys laid out that the main GF laid out before they left, or they can go to the bookshelf that all the toy are kept on, which is in the room. The main GF usually gives him head until he gets hard, and other girls will ride him – no condoms, nada. A lot of girls get yeast infections from having sex with Hef because of the baby oil he rubs himself with. He never tells girls to fuck him nor do they have too; some of his GF’s never fucked him. He lets the girls fool around with each other instead, or they can just watch. He encourages girls to be naked but a lot of the girls will instead claim they’re on their period and keep their panties on. So anyhow, after the main GF girls Hef head to get him rock hard, and chicks fuck him, the main GF sucks him some more (after random girls sexed him up without condoms) to get him hard and then Hef gets up and fucks her, and she fucks him. This is the only girl he moves for or puts effort in for.<br /><br /><b>Letter of Troof: Bridget</b><br />The writer of this book really didn’t like Bridget & she admitted that. Bridget is rumored to be married to some guy in Lodi, California. She grew up in a trailer and has always wanted to become a centerfold. Bridget cries all the time because this is the way to get to Hef – crying. He can’t take crying. Bridget would start crying and say someone was being mean to her, and that GF would get in trouble while Bridget would then do a 180 and be happy and all smiles again.<br /><br /><b>Letter of Troof: Holly</b><br />When Holly arrived at the mansion, she moved into the room closest to Hef and made no friends with the girls, she only cared for Hef. At the time, Hef had another main GF. When that main GF peaced out, Holly moved into Hef’s room – not because he asked her, but because no one else cared to be his main bitch. A lot of girls didn’t feel Hef was ready to have a new main GF so soon, and they felt Hef felt the same way but Hef didn’t want to be mean to Holly. The day Holly became main GF, it was war. Holly would bad mouth all the girls to Hef or say how the girls didn’t need the $2000 for outfits for events, therefore reducing the amount to $1000 without telling them first, some girls also would get no money if Holly could convince Hef that they were ungrateful. Holly also hated club nights; the nights use to be 2-3 times a week, now it’s 2-3 times a month. Holly also started turning into Hef in a way; she studied him very thoroughly even before she entered the mansion, one of her ex-BF’s said. She chose psychology major like Hef, she took cartooning classes to learn to draw and learned about old movies that Hef enjoyed – she seemed to want to become Hef. She also tries to have them match; if she wears a red dress, he wears a red tie. She also refuses to sit next to any of the girls; she must be alone on one side of Hef while the other two are on the other side – Bridget then Kendra (Holly and Bridget are close). Holly was an outcast in the house until Bridget came in, then she took Bridget under her wing. Holly also learned what it was that Hef adored about ex girlfriends and applied them to herself – she got her nose done like one of his ex-GF’s (Barbi Benton), dyed and cut her hair in a Marilyn Monroe way & wore 40’s era clothes everywhere until Hef asked her what is she doing? Holly is the ring leader, and wants to marry and have kids with Hef however Hef has said he wants neither of those. She also made up the names, puffin and muffin for them, to show everyone how “perfect” they are or whatever. She also hates it when ex-GF's visit the mansion & hates the decoration of Barbi Benton he has at the mansion -- she was the girl who found the Mansion he purchased that became the Playboy Mansion & the nose hers is modeled after.<br /><br /><b>Hef’s family</b><br />His wife & son live next door to the Playboy mansion, so he can see them as often as possible. However, he on average sees his son about once a week.<br /><br /><b>Tidbits</b><br />It seemed to the author that the girls who were his GF’s had something to make him look good. The author was an excellent student and a lawyer, so she was “the smart” one and now Kendra is the sporty one. When Hef goes out, ANYWHERE, he has his kitchen send lamb chops ahead and a detailed explanation on how to prepare them. He never orders off a menu or anything; he always sends food from the mansion over.<br /><br /><b>From Seven, to Three</b><br />When Holly and Bridget joined the group, it became 7. & their usually was a division of 3 vs. 4. the 3 consisted of Holly, Bridget and someone else (forgot) who were the “innocent good girls” while the other four where cast as “misbehaving bad girls” who were more outspoken and didn’t care to be on Hef’s dick all day long unlike the other three. Eventually, the drama between the two groups defending themselves to Hef was too much for Hef. One night, Bridget claimed one of the girls were mean to her at the club and began crying. Hef was so upset he yelled at the other girl who then yelled back, in the middle of a club, and he then broke up with her. Holly always had to be on one side of Hef, and Bridget on the other. If another girl took Bridget’s spot next to Hef, she would cry &amp; if it happened to Holly, the event or whatever they are at would end. Example; if it happened at the Grammy’s they’d turn around and go home. Anyways, Holly eventually doesn’t want any other girl besides her, for Hef. So the drama in the group of seven got winded down to 2, and then Kendra was added to make 3. Another incident was when the author was getting a new car; she wanted a used escalade, but Holly said no because that’s the car she wants, so she had to settle on a Tahoe. When Holly got her car, it turned out to be a Porche Cheyanne – she only claimed to want the escalade to upset the other girl.<br /><br /><b>The Mansion</b><br />A lot of the girlfriends in the past became intimate with the help, such as the butlers and shit and would get caught and eventually the butler would get fired and the girl would get thrown out. Thus, a new rule was installed that the girlfriends are not allowed to go into the butler’s quarters. The dogs enjoy relieving themselves on the curtains or the carpet. Usually Holly’s dogs go during the night so Hef usually cleans it up from throughout the bedroom when he wakes up. When the author moved in, the carpets and curtains were filthy because the dogs poop and pee everywhere, but before the taping of The Girls Net door, Hef got the hallway floors replaced & curtains. Some of the bedrooms for the girls were originally made for two girls so when there were seven girls, some girls shared rooms. The closest your room was to Hef, the more serious you were about Hef.<br /><br /><b>Why Girlfriends Can't be Playmates</b><br />In the past, when a girlfriend becomes a Playmate, she breaks up with Hef and peaces out. Which means that most the girls never cared for Hef and just wanted to become Playmates. So now, if you're a GF, you ain't a Playmate<br /><br /><b>I Just Remembered This Crap</b><br />For Christmas, Hef would give the girl $500 to spend on each girl and him. Some girls would make agreements to only spend $100 on eachother and save the other $400. Holly found out and snitched, so the girls had to start providing reciepts to get reimbursed. Also, Hef doesn't pick out gifts, Holly or the main GF does. Usually stuff on clearance at the PlayBoy store or random things like soap, ceramic ducks and frogs, a custom tissue box cover or something. Hef gets them a necklace the first Christmas, after that he has no participation in the gift department.<br />Bridget has had her eyes done, several times, to help her look younger. \<br />When it's sex time, Hef has porn playing -- usually girl on girl or girl on guy, but the author never saw any of the rumored guy on guy stuff.<br /><br /><br />Source: me & the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bunny-Tales-Behind-Playboy-Mansion/dp/0762427396/sr=8-1/qid=1172010656/ref=pd_bbs_1/103-6897703-9078226?ie=UTF8&s=books%22" target="new">BunnyTales</a>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-38629531803617230312007-02-22T09:03:00.000-08:002007-02-22T09:07:03.938-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlwiUN8ItS4FgbzJ1fylGmW-GyS3eDXYyFMoFGJNgZT1nZyyYgqvDFavYQadhKUHrJEw-fHQUuVZWn-qlOR0AklnXM4CVxDFhqO9OjZ9LNpKFRdULjU_IUWXP34l4UgaBgXQH/s1600-h/dirk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlwiUN8ItS4FgbzJ1fylGmW-GyS3eDXYyFMoFGJNgZT1nZyyYgqvDFavYQadhKUHrJEw-fHQUuVZWn-qlOR0AklnXM4CVxDFhqO9OjZ9LNpKFRdULjU_IUWXP34l4UgaBgXQH/s400/dirk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034405979819182994" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvzNxpuSbOlqkqBOZnp1PoR9s8jxntxH-KqxyIPXzzB9G2so82PA01hZbUBuk3b1p8F3oSa95uDaYg4IqlRC3qgPkMxQ8buljZ5Kl608cdctgPezg6bvtJAG-Y2OLcYitrw2I4/s1600-h/dirk2electricboogaloo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvzNxpuSbOlqkqBOZnp1PoR9s8jxntxH-KqxyIPXzzB9G2so82PA01hZbUBuk3b1p8F3oSa95uDaYg4IqlRC3qgPkMxQ8buljZ5Kl608cdctgPezg6bvtJAG-Y2OLcYitrw2I4/s400/dirk2electricboogaloo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034405692056374146" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">also, i'm awesome at art.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">i had some creative block when i returned from my shitty vacation, but I'M BACK NOW, BABY!</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">pls see attached masterpeices for confirmation. k. thx.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVk5tItShnCDShMekHL5hg0iIK3NwzZXknLfWdQIpSSnywlbS8LJHMiFMjpJT-OyQJOLxkMPYs1oeK0_FvTkb5oR6V13EUl342n75alXqONch8RzfAK8nSjqeLeG5R95dSI1IO/s1600-h/sunni.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVk5tItShnCDShMekHL5hg0iIK3NwzZXknLfWdQIpSSnywlbS8LJHMiFMjpJT-OyQJOLxkMPYs1oeK0_FvTkb5oR6V13EUl342n75alXqONch8RzfAK8nSjqeLeG5R95dSI1IO/s400/sunni.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034405515962714994" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-43614494440438098142007-02-22T08:58:00.000-08:002007-02-22T09:02:53.037-08:00ZOMGZ!!!!<span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhog2EZeGneRw83HB2mFQr71t23bkIhIbySZfII99IwccezaISbUDegtEH4YLbfQfr8-1kyUOINZUX60ZSDxfJj7_rso4jJsMY4qRjJK6jovDZ_90Mz3Nh9FwvdhzoXOACMQVDL/s1600-h/nzl80202220630.h2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhog2EZeGneRw83HB2mFQr71t23bkIhIbySZfII99IwccezaISbUDegtEH4YLbfQfr8-1kyUOINZUX60ZSDxfJj7_rso4jJsMY4qRjJK6jovDZ_90Mz3Nh9FwvdhzoXOACMQVDL/s400/nzl80202220630.h2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034404618314550114" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">big squid alert! code red...</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" ><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">this is amazing!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">read the link above to learn more about the things that are slowly migrating south due to polar ice cap melting....</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">soon, we'll take hudson's bay....then we'll take BERLIIIIINNNNN</span></span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-47019635787894699302007-01-26T09:33:00.000-08:002007-01-26T09:50:42.473-08:00i'm back, bitches<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEB8Hm-3SlCXtCvEBt2J9S_A9VylODsqFrDBd4AsftjNFmZorOTsQpwX3yUKuX7QFcfOkRM9ZqI4b6O65h94Kxni83ezR_0uE5OED-qghHC0KsLj8UMjyRmfkkiVMgnFTO2zyO/s1600-h/l_44a04abc84bab82ae706fb2747ad65fa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEB8Hm-3SlCXtCvEBt2J9S_A9VylODsqFrDBd4AsftjNFmZorOTsQpwX3yUKuX7QFcfOkRM9ZqI4b6O65h94Kxni83ezR_0uE5OED-qghHC0KsLj8UMjyRmfkkiVMgnFTO2zyO/s320/l_44a04abc84bab82ae706fb2747ad65fa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024396715135409986" border="0" /></a><br />i haven't talked about my trip yet to anyone but one coworker/friend, and i've come to the conclusion that it was kind of an awful time.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">LOWLIGHTS:<br /><br />* i was stung by a scorpion on my ankle. Upon asking if it was poisonous, i hear the response: "We'll see if you wake up tomorrow." Thanks, <span style="font-style: italic;">jackass.<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;">*</span>The only bank in/near town burned down. we had no money. I rented a</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"> motorcycle to go to the next town over to get moolah, and my bank card wouldn't work. <span style="font-style: italic;">how the hell am i gonna pay for this motorcycle??? </span>ahhh thank god for the kindness of strangers.<br /><br />*after having no money for a couple of days, we decide we must bite the bullet... "<span style="font-style: italic;">mooooooooooo-ommmmyyyyyyy i neeeed moneyyyyyy" </span>nothin' like a 30yr old who asks mom for money.<br /><br />*i went three days without eating at one point.<br /><br />*realizing that there were indeed sharks, tarantulas, scorpions, alligators, and poisonous snakes in my sheltered little town of santa teresa....realizing this the hard way....</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ok. maybe it wasn't an awful time. i'm sure that after a couple of retellings, these stories will become legendary, given my propensity for exaggeration and the</span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> grandiose and epic.<br /></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBXDFalA3g2ffYAR5cJXHaFZcwJmL0UTBTIdhq_b-ow-RKSqqRwBLzg8VbOArcW4c88yo0HW7ygQLTV6c9b-CFDYMlZrpvgVxCuNFOzIMyUGMPcX1_TyzQPRil9t-xRdcxkiZi/s1600-h/jill+042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBXDFalA3g2ffYAR5cJXHaFZcwJmL0UTBTIdhq_b-ow-RKSqqRwBLzg8VbOArcW4c88yo0HW7ygQLTV6c9b-CFDYMlZrpvgVxCuNFOzIMyUGMPcX1_TyzQPRil9t-xRdcxkiZi/s320/jill+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024397758812462946" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">next year, thailand. hookers n' blow. bitches better be there feeding me p</span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">eeled grapes and fanning me with palm fronds. i deserve it after this trip.<br /><br />but hey. the smokes and beer were cheap, and i surfed every day. definite highlights.<br /><br />also, do not travel for an extended amount of time with a significant other....cautionary tales available if you so desire.</span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjQ7kzgY_vYoaecIKG_ogKoVICi3AFEbWjAcm_EP0qKhxCQ6TC-yPefo53a168O7t7LfNQl8lINa8BZw8EdhpWrOkOw_LK8RBLyoHKjHXhT-qUTg0GOcG74qvIlw6Cwd3hrHTN/s1600-h/smoking.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjQ7kzgY_vYoaecIKG_ogKoVICi3AFEbWjAcm_EP0qKhxCQ6TC-yPefo53a168O7t7LfNQl8lINa8BZw8EdhpWrOkOw_LK8RBLyoHKjHXhT-qUTg0GOcG74qvIlw6Cwd3hrHTN/s320/smoking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024397947791023986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />also, there were fucking puppies everywhere.....</span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSwz0CPSwn8JfGLdLPB-cFC_dooLPVWj1vmNANSxcJ7BzwygRNBAVX6QahvS0X0Nn9yvm33LUKuHy7holUX3U-EZkSFd9_CYRrWy5NA0Ai6lPS3Mi0LkAmx-dzFkQAhX1jzZy/s1600-h/jill+045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSwz0CPSwn8JfGLdLPB-cFC_dooLPVWj1vmNANSxcJ7BzwygRNBAVX6QahvS0X0Nn9yvm33LUKuHy7holUX3U-EZkSFd9_CYRrWy5NA0Ai6lPS3Mi0LkAmx-dzFkQAhX1jzZy/s320/jill+045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024397415215079250" border="0" /></a>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-76710174124817478622006-12-15T11:17:00.000-08:002006-12-15T11:18:47.704-08:00Wesley Crusher<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQAjTB6Mtlmt4EF-UhnXvTQI_m9bkZXQJye4XSEbZnlaxHk35DDrcocSlneprHCCNHUS04BpjXR8dQDdsjCpm-204UGjnT8RUmD6utYg4d3kEbMGxCFZCNg06KCspnG8LWjPl/s1600-h/Peat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQAjTB6Mtlmt4EF-UhnXvTQI_m9bkZXQJye4XSEbZnlaxHk35DDrcocSlneprHCCNHUS04BpjXR8dQDdsjCpm-204UGjnT8RUmD6utYg4d3kEbMGxCFZCNg06KCspnG8LWjPl/s320/Peat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008835150518424738" border="0" /></a><br />i typed wesley crusher into google image search and got this.<br /><br />can't you just picture him saying "yo guy, it's Friday! Can't wait to get my fuck on!"ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1163869639228252102006-11-18T08:52:00.000-08:002006-11-18T09:07:19.240-08:00things i hate. part 1 of 3333333333333333333333<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/sylvan3.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/sylvan3.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;">The Sylvan Learning Center commercials.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">these make me believe in myself. you know the kid with the ted koppel haircut (i couldn't find a picture of him) struggles with school, but he REALLY REALLY wants to do well. he finally goes to sylvan, and now, he's able to: read ghost stories to his friends, get 'excellent' on his papers, get a g</span><span style="font-family:arial;">irlfriend, all whilst maintaining his lucious ted koppel locks.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">OH OH and the one where he puts his 'excellent' paper on a skateboard and rolls it towards his mother. and his mother goes "NOW, I TOLD YOU NO SKATEBOARDING IN THE......" t</span><span style="font-family:arial;">hen she sees the test. picks it up. a single tear falls. the child looks on proudly.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">i'm gonna go punch </span><span style="font-family:arial;">someone in the neck now.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/sylvan1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/sylvan1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1162828315983442692006-11-06T07:44:00.000-08:002006-11-19T08:39:47.190-08:00DEAL! (or no deal?)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/4jb5fs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/4jb5fs.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">BACON CHEDDAR CURLY FRIES</span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">BACON CHEDDAR CURLY FRIES</span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">BACON CHEDDAR CURLY FRIES</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">AND ONLY FOR $2.99!</span><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >so i applied for a game show. Deal or No deal with dorkus malorkus Howie Mandell is filming in Toronto. i apparently made it past round one with my hilarious online application. oh my prowess with a keyboard. i answered three fields with "Boring!!" and apparently the bitches liked that.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >they called last night and asked for my picture, and pictures of my five 'supporters' that i would bring, along with phone/email info. if you are contacted, remember to be very PRO JILL. i am not, i repeate NOT the kind of person who swears at small children at a Raptors game (i'll tell you about that unfortunate incident at another time)</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >anyways, wish me luck.</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1161704229309308922006-10-24T08:33:00.000-07:002006-10-24T08:37:09.323-07:00KA;L VAWREIO35;JSDFN<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/Untitled-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/Untitled-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />i've got 'artistic' block. i've got about 8 jobs to design, and can't think of anything. too bad i didn't get paid to check gossip blogs all day. i'd be able to buy a solid gold house.<br /><br /><br />this sucks!ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1161016987072955172006-10-16T09:36:00.000-07:002006-10-16T09:43:07.083-07:00this one was unfortunately in color.i had the most disgusting, yet intriguing dream last night. i don't remember 'em too much, so this is pretty cool.<br /><br />started out normally, and then people around me, really close to me (i.e., mom, dad, bro, best friends) died. or disappeared, can't remember which. the only person i knew left was this stupid bitch i work with. and she was telling me i was crazy, and that these people never existed. so it turns out, i have some kind of 'brain disease,' or so says the CEO of our company, Dr. Jack. (he has a doctorate in fucking sociology, not brain surgery)<br /><br />but he knows how to fix it. tells me it ain't gonna be pretty, and sort of cuts my face off, but not entirely off, it still just kind of sits there, on top of my skull. then he starts doing stuff, and all this weird liquid starts coming out of every facial cavity, ears, nose, eyes, mouth, pretty gross. and then, a bunch of worms come shooting out of my mouth, and i'm cured. everyone is alive again, but they were never really dead. <span style="font-style: italic;">i was just crazy</span>.<br /><br />i think i could expand on this and make a pretty good horror movie.<br />fuck, i just grossed myself out recapping it.ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1160750064520613792006-10-13T07:31:00.000-07:002006-10-13T07:34:24.530-07:00heeeeee!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/asiansurilo_copy_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/asiansurilo_copy_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />i knew i wasn't alone in thinking suri-san cruise-oshi was totally asian.<br /><br />this is from the gallery of the absurd (link above). only go there when you have a couple of hours of free time, otherwise you'll get fired from your job.ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1160068441876323602006-10-05T10:05:00.000-07:002006-10-05T10:14:01.903-07:00i just puked in my mouth a little<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/anna1.3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/anna1.3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/anna5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/anna5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/anna7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/anna7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />seriously, my boner from hilton in da cuffs is totally gone now. can someone explain these please? they've now seared themselves into my brain, and will probably only resurface when i'm having sex, and that can't be good. i'd rather picture my naked grandfather.ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1157662101409157822006-09-07T13:46:00.000-07:002006-09-07T13:48:21.420-07:00ZOMG!!! HILTON IN DA CUFFS!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/paris_hilton_cuffs_dui.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/400/paris_hilton_cuffs_dui.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:180%;" ><br /><br />hey. um, guys, when you get a boner, how do you get rid of it?<br /><br /><br />just asking.</span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1157567820856405082006-09-06T11:28:00.000-07:002006-09-06T11:37:01.030-07:00Here she is, world!!! Li'l Suri Cruise!!wait for it....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />wait for it.............<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />wait..............<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/suricruise.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/suricruise.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />no, but seriously, folks. here she is in all her Asian Elvis glory:<br /><br />I mean, WTF? why did tom and katie feel the need to kidnap a pregnant chinese lady, drug her, and then steal her baby? what would L. ron say?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/suricruise2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/suricruise2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1156528041092277342006-08-25T10:42:00.000-07:002006-08-25T10:47:21.143-07:00a point of contention.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/dolph.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/dolph.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:180%;">UPDATE YER BLOGZ, BITCHES. I'M NOT HERE FOR YOUR AMUSEMENT.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Yours Truly,<br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;">Blorlak</span></span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/10102941.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/10102941.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1156348959229689572006-08-23T08:49:00.000-07:002006-08-23T09:02:39.396-07:00random picturez on my desktop MEGAPOST!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/kideo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/kideo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/weinercat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/weinercat.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/Retard-Stage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/Retard-Stage.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/sorbo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/sorbo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/orry9wt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/orry9wt.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/nf_bills_0815_art.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/nf_bills_0815_art.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/liquidsonaplanethumbmb9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/liquidsonaplanethumbmb9.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/puffin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/puffin.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/sadbirthdayso5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/sadbirthdayso5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1155608369167560942006-08-14T19:09:00.000-07:002006-08-14T19:19:29.183-07:00ALL PICS, BITCHES.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />teeeem red. my personal fav's. don't ask me why. they had heart. they ALMOST WON.<br /><br /><br />team pink. the team everyone loved to hate. that's all.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />teeeem yella. i didn't know any <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>of them, but they were real cool.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/18.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/18.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>team pit stains. er...i mean. team green. we thought they came from behind to take second place, but THEY CHEATED...CHECK THIS NEXT PIC OUT.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/53.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/53.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />yeah. they took a limo. i guess i didn't state that in the rules.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />nuff for tnite. bloggin iz hard, yo.ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1154397058174133722006-07-31T18:32:00.000-07:002006-07-31T18:52:57.040-07:00LOST IN BAY STATION. PROGNOSIS: SUCCESS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/IMGP0382.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/IMGP0382.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>best weekend ever. more to come, here's just a few pics to get 'er goin'.<br /><br />START TIME: 2PM SHARP. at that big rock behind bay station subway. 36 people showed up. me and lisa show up, and delegate teams. aaaaaaaaaaaaand GO BITCHEZ!!! everyone finds their clue and their off to....<br /><br /><br />3pm, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. amanda and greg are there to man the jukebox, and teams are given lyrics and told to play the song on the jukebox once they figure it out. whilst drinking. a LOT. we gave points for drink receipts, which resulted in an awesome upset at the end. team blue pulls ahead super early, giving yours truly seven ulcers to try to set up the next station.<br /><br />3:30ish: CHRISTIE PITTS. two very pregnant friends, holly and stacey, man the mini olympics, where apparently the<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/Lost%20In%20Bay%20020%20%28Large%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/Lost%20In%20Bay%20020%20%28Large%29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> most sexalicious display of jump rope took place. sorry i missed it, dirk.<br /><br />4:30: CADILLAC LOUNGE! me and lisa watch the teams race in from the bar across the street, probably actually having as much (if not more) fun than the sweat soaked racers. we make our cameo appearance, open up some flaccid chocolate bars (thanks, jerkstores) and make the teams chill out for about an hour before WORLD CUPS! cupstacking, yo....<br /><br />6:15: TED'S COLLISION, WHERE TEAM RED RED RED RED RED PULLS AHEAD! me and lisa host everyone's favorite "to the bar and back' high low card game. unfortch, sandon crashes and burns, resulting in team blue pulling ahead...again.....<br /><br />7:00: HIGHWAY TO THE GRANGER ZONE: lisa's house, for a guitar hero showdown.....teams have the option to buy beer for a buck, and get receipts, and then off to the final destination, big surprise, wait for it....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/IMGP0386.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/IMGP0386.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>8:00: THE DUKE OF YORK! we sit on the patio, announce winners (team blue wins, team green gets second, on account of SEVENTY EFFING DRINK TICKETS!) and third is team red.<br /><br />highlights: team pink, yo. those cheatin' sonz o bitches were everyone's favorite team to hate. team green, taking a MOTHERFUCKIN' LIMOSINE TO GRANGE PLACE?!? LOLZ. and seeing my friends drunker than i've ever seen 'em. mission totes accomplished.ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1153419117180239222006-07-20T11:08:00.000-07:002006-07-20T11:25:53.663-07:00Lost in BayStation<span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br />trivia's over. orphans inc. won the cup, biztchez. by a HUGE margin. so we went to the strippers afterwards. my team bought me a lap dance, and in the afterglow of a delightful tuesday evening, we all thought the same thing....why aren't we going to the brass rail EVERY tuesday? trivia = overrated.<br /><br />so me and my buddy have been cooking up a little somethin' somethin' to stave off the trivia hunger pangs...<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/lost%20in%20bay%20station.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 362px; height: 181px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/lost%20in%20bay%20station.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><------------- i believe <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> is what i was put on god's green earth for...facilitating beer and games. july 29th, it all comes together, folks. one of the most massive things i've ever undertaken (not...really knowing...uh, how much work it would be...)<br /><br />this happens soon, i will post pics and witty anecdotes about the day's inevitable debauchery.</span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1153418313363683282006-07-20T10:50:00.000-07:002006-07-20T10:58:33.393-07:00LOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!!!ZOMGGGGGGGGGGG! d00ders, best overheard conversation ever (i didn't actually hear it, thanks c-rock!)<br /><br />just hired these two weiner hipsters that are constantly in the state of battling over who is more emo. BARF. i think the girl won....heeeeeeee, she was wearing some shitty shirt that said "pitchfork gave me a 7.3" and the boy hipster says "COOOOOOOOL, MAN, WHERE'D YOU GET THAT SHIRT?" and she smugly responds...."i <span style="font-style: italic;">made</span> it..."<br /><br />LMAOOOOOOOO....below...my rendering of her stellar look. fuckin' kids, yo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/pitchy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/400/pitchy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1152816667939986462006-07-13T11:50:00.000-07:002006-07-13T11:51:07.950-07:00adsfakjsdlfjweopfjlak<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/aidsrly.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/400/aidsrly.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1152206118683101732006-07-06T10:09:00.000-07:002006-07-06T10:15:18.716-07:00it's gettin' hot in here<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/070506_worldcupitalianhump.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/400/070506_worldcupitalianhump.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">go france.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">meh. i don't even care. soccer sux. but shit, yo, check that action out on the right. i'd hit it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">how come i just found out about this? why didn't anyone tell me??</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">yeah. soccer kinda sux, i can't believe how racist it makes everyone...what did i read about portuguese people yesterday...</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;" class="blacktextnb10">Go cry in your salted cod - it's back to the road paving tomorrow...get some sleep."<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;" class="blacktextnb10">yeah</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;" class="blacktextnb10">....</span></span><span class="blacktextnb10"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">funny shit, but kinda unsettling...why is it okay to say this stuff just cuz world cup is on??</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">weird.</span></span><br /></span></span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1151858414610973282006-07-02T09:32:00.000-07:002006-07-02T10:13:45.723-07:00canada. fuck yeah.happy canada day. i had a good one. i did exactly what i wanted to...sitting on an amazing patio i have since renamed 'the womb'. (cuz we stayed there for six hours...) drinking double my weight in beer, screwdrivers and mimosas. heh. and keeping it going at a friend's house and quite possibly forgetting my bike there.<br /><br />unfortunately, in having the most perfect and ideal canada day, i missed a very good friend's bday party...well, not missed, i showed up and stayed for 10 minutes cuz i had no business being around people in my extremely hammered state.<br /><br />my question is...i feel bad. was i selfish? yes. but i had the best day ever. when should obligations rule over my own good time? i've sat here trying to justify it, and i guess there is no justification. i have friends of both minds. friends who would drop everything they're doing no matter how inconvenient to help someone out. you know, those friends who go to see their friend's shitty band without fail? no matter how crap the music is? then, i have other friends who don't feel such a sense of obligation. they're good people, but you only see them when <span style="font-style: italic;">they </span>feel like it. you always have a good time with them, but you know they don't think about you that much. and it's ok.<br />i guess neither camp is <span style="font-style: italic;">right</span>, per se, i just think it's a personality thing. my problem is that i'm too much like the latter camp, but with the conscience of the former camp. not a good combination...i'll be selfish but feel real bad about it.<br /><br />serious blogging is for commies. eff this.ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1151077947392661942006-06-23T08:37:00.000-07:002006-06-23T08:57:22.290-07:00blorlak down! blorlak down!<span style="font-family:times new roman;">once again, i flew too close to the sun. i threw my back out. err, my neck (?) but it's now extended down my spine. this happened last year, and it ended up being west nile (LOL!!) now i know you must have questions..i'll do my best...</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/mosquito.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/mosquito.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /><br />Q: WTF?! you had west nile? why didn't *i* know about it?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />A: good question, rummy. only 4 or 5 people knew about it. plus, how do you work the 'nile' into ordinary conversation? "hey jill, can you pass the ketch..." "YOU INSENSITIVE BASTARD, I HAVE WEST NILE, Y'KNOW!!!"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />Q: hmm...i'm skeptical. you seemed fine all summer, you never broke your drinking stride as far as i saw....?</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">A: Correct you are! i "push through"...i am seriously under the impression that drinking has cured what ails me faster than succumbing and staying home...(it probs causes it too. LOLZ)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />Q: Hey, wait a minute...isn't west nile touted by Health Canada as a killer? what makes you so herculean?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />A: Health Canada (and the WHO, as far as i'm concerned) are fear mongerers who are trying to scare people into hiding indoors and slathering themselves with antibacterial lotion all day. The people who get sick from these things are either really old/young, or have pre-existing health problems. i.e. SAAAAAAAARS. i got mildly ill and a sore back. the effing spinal tap was the worst thing...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />Q: ok that eplains a lot....hey wait...is west nile contagious?????</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />A: um....uh...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />Q: but you hung out with all of us, and took drinks from our beerz! OMFG...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />A: This interview is over. no further questions.</span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26667506.post-1150814824597849492006-06-20T07:31:00.000-07:002006-06-20T07:47:04.656-07:00vive le quebec libre!!so i was in montreal this weekend. i was supposed to go to this party on saturday night, but the dude who was throwing it was bleeding from his mouth. for, like, <span style="font-style: italic;">two hours</span>. so he went to emergency, cuz after awhile, he couldn't stand up on his own. so my buzz is totally gone at this point (wouldn't yours be?) so me and my cousin go to a terrace in old montreal. after two hours of drinking, and failing to roofie any 17 yr old french boys, we decide to call it a (weird) night.<br /><br />we ask the waiter how to get out, since they've blocked off the door we came in. he points to three doors. for some reason, we use...<span style="font-style: italic;">the fourth door he didn't point to</span>....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/1600/vivelequebeclibre.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2802/2793/320/vivelequebeclibre.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>....fast forward to me and the cuz ending up at a hard-core seperatist party. a quebec-nationalist band was playing fast and furiously in front of the largest fleur-de-lis flag i've seen. the crowd was wild. it was a private party, the bouncer wasn't letting anyone from the street in. there was no windows. me and cuz look at eachother and at the same time, realize <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;">THIS IS *AWESOME*.</span> </span>determined to fit in, we order drinks in (bad) french, and start dancing along to the music.<br /><br />we get even drunker.<br /><br />the cuz goes to the bathroom. i am left alone to ponder my sovereignty. when the singer dude says in english...'word on the street is that we have someone from toronto here tonight....' people looked at me, and said some french slang that i didn't understand. and then the band broke into song again, and it was a song about how much dick toronto sucks.<br /><br />the cuz comes out of the bathroom and your gentle narrator suggests its time to book it the hell out of there.<br /><br />man, being a seperatist must be cool...it looks like it's the new trendy thing in quebec. i'd be all over that shit...except for the absolute and total exclusion of anyone who's not white and priveleged.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><br /></span>ayatollah of rock n' rollahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415124922847701927noreply@blogger.com1