Mon mari aime à avoir des rapports sexuels avec des citrouilles.
My husband likes to have sex with pumpkins.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
I Say Yes to Grubicide!
Some ibises (ibii??) outside my bedroom window just now.
I love these guys.
They're not afraid of anything. They land in gangs in search of grubs residing in the dirt of my lawn.
I always hope that the grubs are ones that would otherwise turn into Japanese Beetles. Japanese Beetles that would chew the hell out of all my plants come next June.
We always wonder how they can sense them so quickly and easily.
Nature is some pretty interesting shit.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Move Over, Partridge Family...
...because all we need is a psychadelic bus and a cute little redhead.
Oh wait. We've already got one of the two.
ME!
Most people go out to see live music on Saturday nights.
In the Adams household, we create our own fucking concert.
Remember how I said I was supposed to sing at my stepdaughter Lindsay's wedding last weekend and wasn't able to?
I got home from work yesterday and Chuck said, "You better prepare for a concert tonight."
I assumed Lindsay's husband Mike was going to bring over his guitar, we'd have a couple of beers, and I would sing. We'd film it for blogging (and perhaps humiliation) purposes of course.
My new son-in-law ended up bringing a whole stage set-up with him.
Guitars, PA, a mic, effects pedal...the whole bit.
Chuck jamming with his Mike's son Nathan
Lindsay looking like a hot roadie
It felt weird setting up a microphone in my fucking living room.
"I feel like that thing is a poinsonous snake or something," I told Mike, eyeing the microphone. "I wouldn't know what to do with one of those things."
"Uh...you just sing into it."
"I know! But I'm so loud and obnoxious, I've never needed a microphone for anything!"
I love to sing. But it's usually only in the shower or in my car. Basically I like to sing when I'm naked or driving. Or naked AND driving.
I'm not Mariah Carey or anything, but I can hold a tune. I just have to pick the right songs for my range (which is very, very narrow).
I've done karaoke three times, once when I was forced at a Gaelic Football function (which was a surprisingly decent effort at Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It"), and twice at a bar with friends (both of these attempts were kind of dodgy).
Last night was way more fun than karaoke!
My first song was "Hotel Yorba" by the White Stripes.
This is what it sounds like in case you don't give a shit about The White Stripes (in which case, I must question your musical taste):
And I also decided to do The White Stripes' "We're Gonna Be Friends", which is a really pretty song.
My new step-grandson-in-law (yikes) Nathan makes a surprise cameo at the end. It's worth watching for that even if you don't want to hear me sing another White Stripes song (but I think I sound pretty nice)...
Hilar-i-ouuuuuuus!
Yes, I cheated with a lyrics sheet. Most of the song doesn't change up, so I get confused with the verses.
So sue me.
Did you see the fake laser-glare I gave Nathan? Priceless. He kind of looked Mr. Bean-esque when he wandered in front of the camera. It made the video that much more awesome.
Anyway, here's the original version:
What an awesome night. I don't think I've had that much fun in a long time.
I totally pretended I was singing to a stadium full of people.
Not really. I felt awkward. But looking at Chuckles whilst I was singing helped. He looked pretty impressed with me, made me laugh and feel good about myself. Like a good husband should.
So anyway, I want opinions, but please be kind. Posting video of myself singing should have been one of the entries on my bucket list.
Because it's taking a lot of balls to do it!
*hides*
Oh wait. We've already got one of the two.
ME!
Most people go out to see live music on Saturday nights.
In the Adams household, we create our own fucking concert.
Remember how I said I was supposed to sing at my stepdaughter Lindsay's wedding last weekend and wasn't able to?
I got home from work yesterday and Chuck said, "You better prepare for a concert tonight."
I assumed Lindsay's husband Mike was going to bring over his guitar, we'd have a couple of beers, and I would sing. We'd film it for blogging (and perhaps humiliation) purposes of course.
My new son-in-law ended up bringing a whole stage set-up with him.
Guitars, PA, a mic, effects pedal...the whole bit.
Chuck jamming with his Mike's son Nathan
Lindsay looking like a hot roadie
It felt weird setting up a microphone in my fucking living room.
"I feel like that thing is a poinsonous snake or something," I told Mike, eyeing the microphone. "I wouldn't know what to do with one of those things."
"Uh...you just sing into it."
"I know! But I'm so loud and obnoxious, I've never needed a microphone for anything!"
I love to sing. But it's usually only in the shower or in my car. Basically I like to sing when I'm naked or driving. Or naked AND driving.
I'm not Mariah Carey or anything, but I can hold a tune. I just have to pick the right songs for my range (which is very, very narrow).
I've done karaoke three times, once when I was forced at a Gaelic Football function (which was a surprisingly decent effort at Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It"), and twice at a bar with friends (both of these attempts were kind of dodgy).
Last night was way more fun than karaoke!
My first song was "Hotel Yorba" by the White Stripes.
This is what it sounds like in case you don't give a shit about The White Stripes (in which case, I must question your musical taste):
And I also decided to do The White Stripes' "We're Gonna Be Friends", which is a really pretty song.
My new step-grandson-in-law (yikes) Nathan makes a surprise cameo at the end. It's worth watching for that even if you don't want to hear me sing another White Stripes song (but I think I sound pretty nice)...
Hilar-i-ouuuuuuus!
Yes, I cheated with a lyrics sheet. Most of the song doesn't change up, so I get confused with the verses.
So sue me.
Did you see the fake laser-glare I gave Nathan? Priceless. He kind of looked Mr. Bean-esque when he wandered in front of the camera. It made the video that much more awesome.
Anyway, here's the original version:
What an awesome night. I don't think I've had that much fun in a long time.
I totally pretended I was singing to a stadium full of people.
Not really. I felt awkward. But looking at Chuckles whilst I was singing helped. He looked pretty impressed with me, made me laugh and feel good about myself. Like a good husband should.
So anyway, I want opinions, but please be kind. Posting video of myself singing should have been one of the entries on my bucket list.
Because it's taking a lot of balls to do it!
*hides*
Friday, October 21, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
You Can Lick 'Em, But They Won't Get You High
Toad lilies.
They only put out every fall, but it's worth all the expensive dinners and gifts I have to buy them.
Oh yeah, baby, come to mama.....don't be shy.
And leave the lights on.
They only put out every fall, but it's worth all the expensive dinners and gifts I have to buy them.
Oh yeah, baby, come to mama.....don't be shy.
And leave the lights on.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Keep Calm and Ramble On
My stepdaughter Lindsay got married on Saturday.
Not only am I happy for her, but I'm also happy for me.
Now that the wedding's over with, Chuckles can stop dreading it!
Don't get me wrong, Chuckles is happy for her as well, but he was so worried about walking her down the aisle, dancing with her at the wedding, and just losing his oldest daughter to being married.
He woke up on Saturday feeling a bit anxious. His brother and sister were up here from Florida for the wedding and I was hoping they'd distract him/calm him down.
Lindsay and her now-husband Mike were having the wedding in their backyard, which is a pretty piece of land with a pond and everything. Chuckles and I had to go over early, I wanted to be there while Lindsay was getting ready.
Lindsay called and asked Chuck to bring her over a pre-wedding brewski. Of course he saved the day.
Chuckles was a lot calmer after that.
Lindsay has a LOT of damn hair, so it took awhile for her to have it done. In the meantime Chuck and I wandered around the house and around the yard, milling about with the family.
Mike asked Chuck to hold the ring boxes while he tied a harness to their dog, Ozzy. Ozzy was the ring bearer (which turned out better than I thought it would), and he would carry the little pillow on his back.
Aw, Chuck looks so sad. He also looks like he's slyly giving the camera the finger...
I think Desiree (Chuck's other daughter) was tired even before the wedding started...
Chuck and his younger brother Steve and older sister Laura in the backyard.
Lindsay and Chuck weren't the only ones with pre-wedding nerves. Chuck kept trying to convince Mike to take a shot of that Jameson that you can see sitting on the counter, but Mike wouldn't play.
Wedding-pooper.
The weather was absofuckinglutely perfect for a wedding. Not a cloud in the sky, and there was a really nice breeze.
There were some unavoidable snafus and the ceremony started quite a bit later than it was supposed to, but the soft lighting of the afternoon made the pictures really beautiful.
I didn't realize until Friday night (the night of the rehearsal) that I was going to be a part of the ceremony.
I was a bit shocked. If I would've known this, I would've lost 30 lbs first. But Lindsay said it wasn't decided until the last minute, and I was honoured to be in the wedding procession, no matter how I looked. The day wasn't about me anyway, everyone would be looking at my beautiful stepdaughter.
So I rocked what I had.
My sister-in-law Laura was awesome enough to take pictures for me because I couldn't, and my brother-in-law Steve videotaped it.
Mike's brother Dusty walked me in, and of course I couldn't resist making a Kyna-face towards the camera....
Desiree was the flower girl. I loved her dress!
Lindsay and Chuck made their entrance to Led Zeppelin's "Bron-Yr-Aur".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQKQ3-bzXV8
Lindsay looked like a freaking angel in her wedding dress. Chuck looked so proud to walk her in...I started to get teary.
I'm not a religious person, but the pastor that officiated the ceremony was a really cool guy. Mike's grandfather was supposed to officiate, but unfortunately he passed away right after Lindsay and Mike were engaged this year.
They had a chair set up for him and for Chuck's mother Mary, who passed away in 2002. I thought it was a nice gesture.
The magic words were said, and abracadabra, Lindsay and Mike were married.
The reception was held offsite, but we had time for a few last pics in the fading afternoon sunlight before we took off...
Even in pics where Lindsay isn't looking, she still looks awesome.
Chuckles and some hotties.
Preacher signing the marriage license. Told ya he was a cool guy. I'll give you three guesses as to who gave him that beer, and the first two don't count...
The best part of the day was seeing Chuck and Lindsay get out and cut a rug for the father-daughter dance.
...and guess who caught the damn thing?
Desiree did.
It was hilarious...Chuck was like, "Oh....shit. Not again."
As was I. I don't think I could go through this again in just a few more years!
The wedding was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And they planned it in only 3 months!
This was definitely the sweetest picture of the day. I'm going to get it framed.
Not only am I happy for her, but I'm also happy for me.
Now that the wedding's over with, Chuckles can stop dreading it!
Don't get me wrong, Chuckles is happy for her as well, but he was so worried about walking her down the aisle, dancing with her at the wedding, and just losing his oldest daughter to being married.
He woke up on Saturday feeling a bit anxious. His brother and sister were up here from Florida for the wedding and I was hoping they'd distract him/calm him down.
Lindsay and her now-husband Mike were having the wedding in their backyard, which is a pretty piece of land with a pond and everything. Chuckles and I had to go over early, I wanted to be there while Lindsay was getting ready.
Lindsay called and asked Chuck to bring her over a pre-wedding brewski. Of course he saved the day.
Chuckles was a lot calmer after that.
Lindsay has a LOT of damn hair, so it took awhile for her to have it done. In the meantime Chuck and I wandered around the house and around the yard, milling about with the family.
Mike asked Chuck to hold the ring boxes while he tied a harness to their dog, Ozzy. Ozzy was the ring bearer (which turned out better than I thought it would), and he would carry the little pillow on his back.
Aw, Chuck looks so sad. He also looks like he's slyly giving the camera the finger...
Chuck and his younger brother Steve and older sister Laura in the backyard.
Lindsay and Chuck weren't the only ones with pre-wedding nerves. Chuck kept trying to convince Mike to take a shot of that Jameson that you can see sitting on the counter, but Mike wouldn't play.
Wedding-pooper.
The weather was absofuckinglutely perfect for a wedding. Not a cloud in the sky, and there was a really nice breeze.
There were some unavoidable snafus and the ceremony started quite a bit later than it was supposed to, but the soft lighting of the afternoon made the pictures really beautiful.
I didn't realize until Friday night (the night of the rehearsal) that I was going to be a part of the ceremony.
I was a bit shocked. If I would've known this, I would've lost 30 lbs first. But Lindsay said it wasn't decided until the last minute, and I was honoured to be in the wedding procession, no matter how I looked. The day wasn't about me anyway, everyone would be looking at my beautiful stepdaughter.
So I rocked what I had.
My sister-in-law Laura was awesome enough to take pictures for me because I couldn't, and my brother-in-law Steve videotaped it.
Mike's brother Dusty walked me in, and of course I couldn't resist making a Kyna-face towards the camera....
Lindsay and Chuck made their entrance to Led Zeppelin's "Bron-Yr-Aur".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQKQ3-bzXV8
Lindsay looked like a freaking angel in her wedding dress. Chuck looked so proud to walk her in...I started to get teary.
I'm not a religious person, but the pastor that officiated the ceremony was a really cool guy. Mike's grandfather was supposed to officiate, but unfortunately he passed away right after Lindsay and Mike were engaged this year.
They had a chair set up for him and for Chuck's mother Mary, who passed away in 2002. I thought it was a nice gesture.
The magic words were said, and abracadabra, Lindsay and Mike were married.
The reception was held offsite, but we had time for a few last pics in the fading afternoon sunlight before we took off...
Mike's daughter Cailey, putting some artistic touches on the getaway vehicle.
I heart this one.
Chuckles is awesome in this pic, isn't he? Radiating happiness.
I love Lindsay. People always raise an eyebrow when I tell them that my stepdaughter is 25, but I don't care. She's one of the greatest friends and daughter one could have.
Even in pics where Lindsay isn't looking, she still looks awesome.
Chuckles and some hotties.
Preacher signing the marriage license. Told ya he was a cool guy. I'll give you three guesses as to who gave him that beer, and the first two don't count...
The reception was a fun time had by all. The food was delicious, catered by Mike's stepfather. Jambalaya and red beans & rice. The decorations were put together by Mike's mom.
My crazy in-laws. I love 'em.
The best part of the day was seeing Chuck and Lindsay get out and cut a rug for the father-daughter dance.
They decided on Led Zeppelin's "Ramble On". And it was a great choice! I'm sure you don't want to watch an entire video of my husband dancing with his daughter at her wedding, but I implore you to watch till the first change in tempo happens.
Chuckles gets fancy with it. (For some reason the new Blogger won't accept the embedded video code, so I just had to post the link, but click the link anyway. Because you love me and I want you to.)
I swear, I was crying the whole time I was videotaping. It was ridiculously awesome and touching. I'm so glad I got to be there to experience something like this.
Anyway, it came time for the bride to throw her bouquet to all the single ladies...
...and guess who caught the damn thing?
Desiree did.
It was hilarious...Chuck was like, "Oh....shit. Not again."
As was I. I don't think I could go through this again in just a few more years!
The wedding was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And they planned it in only 3 months!
This was definitely the sweetest picture of the day. I'm going to get it framed.
I didn't get to sing after all, because of various circumstances. I was kind of sad about it, but once again, the day wasn't about me. So it's all good!
But Mike'll bring his guitar over soon, and Chuck's gonna take some video of me singing the song I was supposed to sing, so ya'll can judge me anyway.
How 'bout that? :)
Labels:
Bron-Yr-Aur,
Chuck,
daughter,
in-laws,
Kyna,
Led Zeppelin,
Lindsay,
Ramble On,
wedding
Friday, October 14, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
I'm A Bloody Idiot
So, the Idiot Gardener jinxed me.
His last post was a step-by-step instructional on how to be an idiot and stab yourself with pruning shears. And there seems to have been some sort of subliminal voodoo-hex towards me embedded in it as well.
I commented about the multitude of ways in which I've been injured (I'm very accident prone), but never through gardening.
Well, I thought I had better stay away from all things sharp in my yard, garage, etc. I knew that after I said I hadn't injured myself gardening, I'd immediately have some sort of trowel accident or something.
There isn't room enough in this world for two Idiot Gardeners!
Thank the Sweet Baby Jesus In The Manger, I remain a gardening genius.
Last night however, I proved that I'm still an Idiot Chef.
I mentioned yesterday that it was Canadian Thanksgiving, and that I was making a huge mammoth feast of magnificently colossal epic proportions. All by myself.
Never. The Fuck. Again.
I wrestled with that damn turkey for at least a couple of hours. It looked like I'd slaughtered the bastard in my kitchen. There was blood everywhere.
It took me forever just to get the fucking neck out. It was as big as some entire turkeys I've seen.
I sweated and yanked and pulled on that thing until it popped and ended up spraying me in the face (yeah, I know...that's what she said). I was so pissed off. I love it when I get raw turkey juice in my mouth.
And this ghetto-ass jive turkey was missing half of its giblets. Still had a big ol' tail hanging off it. Why didn't they just leave the feathers on? Why didn't they just leave the head on it?? Just wrap up a live turkey and stick it in the freezer???
Gobble, gobble, SQUAWK.
*deep breath*
It was a long day.
Ten hours of cooking later, I'm finally slicing some potatoes, one of the last things I have to do before everything's ready to eat...I see the light at the end of the cooking tunnel....
*SLICE* "Fuck!"
I sliced the shit out of my thumb. Luckily we had some gauze pads and surgical tape, because a Band-Aid wasn't gonna cut it (so punny).
I soldiered on with my FrankenThumb, and all that was left to do was carve the turkey.
I asked Chuck if he could at least do that (he was kind of making light of my cut thumb), and he sharpened up a knife.
*STAB* "Fuck!"
Chuck stabbed the shit (notice the italics, his was even worse than mine was) out of the top of his hand (karma's a bitch). His appetite wasn't affected, and we're lucky everyone at the table was good with the sight of blood.
The food turned out to be delicious, and everyone enjoyed themselves (even with injuries).
Chuck's daughter Lindsay and her fiancé Mike were over for the meal, and took advantage of the opportunity to go over a few things with us in regard to their wedding on this coming Saturday.
Lindsay asked Chuck to help her pick out a song for the father-daughter dance. She wanted to pick a Led Zeppelin song, because she knows how much Led Zeppelin means to Chuck.
They were going over a few songs, and tried dancing to a couple of them in the kitchen while I was cooking. (Chuck doesn't like to dance in public, so he's been kind of dreading this)
We put on "What Is And What Should Never Be" to try it out, and I laughed so hard, I almost peed myself (ignore my shrill cackling):
I get to also have a part in the wedding.
Mike walked in the door last night with his guitar and some music and said, "So, I have my guitar. I have music. You're going to sing 'Hotel Yorba' at our wedding while I play. And we're going to practice tonight."
In case you don't know what that song is, it's a White Stripes tune that I love.
I don't think he thought I'd agree so quickly. The first time I sang to Mike playing last night, I could see on Chuck's face that he was surprised I sang so well. He's heard me sing, but not as if I was singing for an audience.
Anyway, I didn't get any video of that last night, maybe I'll get some when I sing at the wedding.
Everyone cross your fingers (and thumbs) that I don't suck at singing like I do at slicing potatoes!
His last post was a step-by-step instructional on how to be an idiot and stab yourself with pruning shears. And there seems to have been some sort of subliminal voodoo-hex towards me embedded in it as well.
I commented about the multitude of ways in which I've been injured (I'm very accident prone), but never through gardening.
Well, I thought I had better stay away from all things sharp in my yard, garage, etc. I knew that after I said I hadn't injured myself gardening, I'd immediately have some sort of trowel accident or something.
There isn't room enough in this world for two Idiot Gardeners!
Thank the Sweet Baby Jesus In The Manger, I remain a gardening genius.
Last night however, I proved that I'm still an Idiot Chef.
I mentioned yesterday that it was Canadian Thanksgiving, and that I was making a huge mammoth feast of magnificently colossal epic proportions. All by myself.
Never. The Fuck. Again.
I wrestled with that damn turkey for at least a couple of hours. It looked like I'd slaughtered the bastard in my kitchen. There was blood everywhere.
It took me forever just to get the fucking neck out. It was as big as some entire turkeys I've seen.
I sweated and yanked and pulled on that thing until it popped and ended up spraying me in the face (yeah, I know...that's what she said). I was so pissed off. I love it when I get raw turkey juice in my mouth.
And this ghetto-ass jive turkey was missing half of its giblets. Still had a big ol' tail hanging off it. Why didn't they just leave the feathers on? Why didn't they just leave the head on it?? Just wrap up a live turkey and stick it in the freezer???
Gobble, gobble, SQUAWK.
*deep breath*
It was a long day.
Ten hours of cooking later, I'm finally slicing some potatoes, one of the last things I have to do before everything's ready to eat...I see the light at the end of the cooking tunnel....
*SLICE* "Fuck!"
I sliced the shit out of my thumb. Luckily we had some gauze pads and surgical tape, because a Band-Aid wasn't gonna cut it (so punny).
I soldiered on with my FrankenThumb, and all that was left to do was carve the turkey.
I asked Chuck if he could at least do that (he was kind of making light of my cut thumb), and he sharpened up a knife.
*STAB* "Fuck!"
Chuck stabbed the shit (notice the italics, his was even worse than mine was) out of the top of his hand (karma's a bitch). His appetite wasn't affected, and we're lucky everyone at the table was good with the sight of blood.
The food turned out to be delicious, and everyone enjoyed themselves (even with injuries).
Chuck's daughter Lindsay and her fiancé Mike were over for the meal, and took advantage of the opportunity to go over a few things with us in regard to their wedding on this coming Saturday.
Lindsay asked Chuck to help her pick out a song for the father-daughter dance. She wanted to pick a Led Zeppelin song, because she knows how much Led Zeppelin means to Chuck.
They were going over a few songs, and tried dancing to a couple of them in the kitchen while I was cooking. (Chuck doesn't like to dance in public, so he's been kind of dreading this)
We put on "What Is And What Should Never Be" to try it out, and I laughed so hard, I almost peed myself (ignore my shrill cackling):
I get to also have a part in the wedding.
Mike walked in the door last night with his guitar and some music and said, "So, I have my guitar. I have music. You're going to sing 'Hotel Yorba' at our wedding while I play. And we're going to practice tonight."
In case you don't know what that song is, it's a White Stripes tune that I love.
I don't think he thought I'd agree so quickly. The first time I sang to Mike playing last night, I could see on Chuck's face that he was surprised I sang so well. He's heard me sing, but not as if I was singing for an audience.
Anyway, I didn't get any video of that last night, maybe I'll get some when I sing at the wedding.
Everyone cross your fingers (and thumbs) that I don't suck at singing like I do at slicing potatoes!
Labels:
Chuck,
Hotel Yorba,
idiots,
knife,
Led Zeppelin,
The White Stripes,
thumb
Monday, October 10, 2011
They Come In Wee...Not So Wee...and FRIGGIN' HUGE!
*Scottish accent*
It's a behemoth!
('Behemoth' is only fun to say with a Scottish accent)
Ok, it's only a 20lb turkey, but it's the biggest one I've ever had to cook.
I've cooked a 14lb turkey and had leftovers for a week. Chuck will be like Bubba from 'Forrest Gump'...
"Kyna made turkey sandwiches...turkey soup...turkey pot pie...turkey salad...turkey burgers...turkey casserole..."
I would have bought a smaller one, except I think I scored the only whole frozen turkey in the entire county, and there were definitely no fresh ones. They're not quite in killin' season yet in the U.S.
I hope the turkey isn't too dodgy...some dude sold it to me in an alley out of his trench coat.
Anyway, this is the first Thanksgiving that I've ever had to make the whole meal by myself. Chuck is working today (with other Americans that don't realize that the REAL Thanksgiving is in October) and I'm on my own.
My friends have told me that my first time will hurt a little, but once I get into it, I'll enjoy it.
Right. That's what they all say....
Gobble gobble, Eh!
Time to get my turkey on.
It's a behemoth!
('Behemoth' is only fun to say with a Scottish accent)
Ok, it's only a 20lb turkey, but it's the biggest one I've ever had to cook.
I've cooked a 14lb turkey and had leftovers for a week. Chuck will be like Bubba from 'Forrest Gump'...
"Kyna made turkey sandwiches...turkey soup...turkey pot pie...turkey salad...turkey burgers...turkey casserole..."
I would have bought a smaller one, except I think I scored the only whole frozen turkey in the entire county, and there were definitely no fresh ones. They're not quite in killin' season yet in the U.S.
I hope the turkey isn't too dodgy...some dude sold it to me in an alley out of his trench coat.
Anyway, this is the first Thanksgiving that I've ever had to make the whole meal by myself. Chuck is working today (with other Americans that don't realize that the REAL Thanksgiving is in October) and I'm on my own.
My friends have told me that my first time will hurt a little, but once I get into it, I'll enjoy it.
Right. That's what they all say....
Gobble gobble, Eh!
Time to get my turkey on.
Labels:
Canada,
If It's Not Scottish It's Crap,
thanksgiving,
turkey
Friday, October 7, 2011
Dirty French Friday
Ta mère est un garage à bites.
Your mom is a walking sperm bank.
Literally, 'a parking garage for dicks'.
Your mom is a walking sperm bank.
Literally, 'a parking garage for dicks'.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)