The paucity of poonanny
I hated that song "where have all the cowboys gone". That was a dumb song. If that bitch wanted cowboys she could have driven to Amish's house and had her pick of rough, John Wayne type men. But she didn't want that. She just wanted some Calvin Klien model in a cowboy hat to fall all over her and save her from indians and shit. I'm not buying it!
Women think that men have unrealistic standards. How about the 'good looking guy with a personality'. Theres a fucking unrealistic standard. Or a straight man who dresses well. Seriously, cut the crap. You either get the good-looking guy who will sit around watching porno and ball-games later in life, or you can get the 'slightly-not-as-good-looking' guy, with whom you might be able to hold a conversation when hes fifty-three and the viagra just won't do it anymore.
Choose and be damned.
*sigh*
Tomorrow I'm turning 22. Its all downhill from here. There are no cool turning points anymore. Now, all I get to look forward to is a midlife crisis, a knee surgery, maybe a hip replacement or two and glocoma. I'm actually looking forward to the glocoma. I might be blind, but I'll be high as a kite on medical marijuana.
If anyone wants to go out tomorrow night, call me after nine. I'll be in Des Moines. If anyone wants to join us for dinner and the funnybone on Friday, give me a call sometime Friday. I think we'll probably be meeting somewhere around six-thirty or seven. I haven't decided where yet. We could meet at the Olive Garden if thats where Kelly wanted to eat. If it would be better to meet at Southridge, or some place where we can consolidate into two or three vehicles....thats fine. Holla' at cha' boy!
Women think that men have unrealistic standards. How about the 'good looking guy with a personality'. Theres a fucking unrealistic standard. Or a straight man who dresses well. Seriously, cut the crap. You either get the good-looking guy who will sit around watching porno and ball-games later in life, or you can get the 'slightly-not-as-good-looking' guy, with whom you might be able to hold a conversation when hes fifty-three and the viagra just won't do it anymore.
Choose and be damned.
*sigh*
Tomorrow I'm turning 22. Its all downhill from here. There are no cool turning points anymore. Now, all I get to look forward to is a midlife crisis, a knee surgery, maybe a hip replacement or two and glocoma. I'm actually looking forward to the glocoma. I might be blind, but I'll be high as a kite on medical marijuana.
If anyone wants to go out tomorrow night, call me after nine. I'll be in Des Moines. If anyone wants to join us for dinner and the funnybone on Friday, give me a call sometime Friday. I think we'll probably be meeting somewhere around six-thirty or seven. I haven't decided where yet. We could meet at the Olive Garden if thats where Kelly wanted to eat. If it would be better to meet at Southridge, or some place where we can consolidate into two or three vehicles....thats fine. Holla' at cha' boy!
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