Make Your Picks
The Shoutbox
I was always fond of people eating blue razzberry lollies, waiting for somebody to make a Smurfette or toilet cake joke

Dead before dead was a thing.
Or you wander through the woods to discover an abandoned park and start concocting delusions of it actually being a mass grave site that's part of a government cover up. Then 4 hours later you're back on the couch laughing like a damn hyena at Archer. Then a week later your psyche breaks and you go running around the neighborhood in just your socks while its pouring rain. Or is that just me?
Either that or you spend 3 early-morning hours under a bridge in Harlem trying to figure out which piece of paper in your wallet is your parking claim ticket for the elevator garage, so you can retrieve your car, which you need to drive 350 miles back to Boston. At some point during all this, perhaps you might come to the conclusion that hey, since I can't see well enough to read these pieces of paper, maybe I shouldn't be operating a motor vehicle, and and Hey! WTF am I doing under a bridge in Harlem?
In other news, micro doses of acid have the same effect as sugar pills. But macro doses? Hello psych ward!
tue tue tuesday, goodbye...
I'm like a bag of flaming hot Cheetos. You know you're gonna regret it later
Safe to say it's 2uesday.
Wait a second...bran muffin is like the worst thing for IBS! Nevermind that! I am NOT a bran muffin.
I suppose I am a lot like a bran muffin. I deliver consistent results with nary a sign of IBS.
Originally Posted by doubledenim
Ima wait until McClane checks in before I believe itís Tuesday.

I can testify we had a Monday at work last night, so chances are...
So most people have a designated schedule of appearances and here I am, unregulated & disorganised?
Originally Posted by doubledenim
In a church basement in Fort Wayne. A plastic folding table has been erected, one foot resting on a folded stack of losing scratchers. The coffee made with 2 extra cups of water just finished percíing. 3 tins of Royal Dansk, open, wait for nicotine fingers to disrupt their peaceful existence. A circle of chairs begins to fill with meats in the seats, as a beleaguered mix of Mondays prepare to once again contemplate their existence.