When staying at a guy’s house, what’s the proper protocol for asking if you can borrow some of his super fancy hair styling products?
Are you supposed to just act like they don’t exist because it’s emasculating to acknowledge them?
Or is it like that Virginia Woolf book where, like, if I…
If it’s Brian’s, I’d light it on fire before using.
I ONLY HAVE LIKE, 2 TYPES OF PRODUCT.
I suppose I could put the seat down though.
Mason hasn’t been fed in a week. Chihuahuas look like food.
Today I travel with Chihuahua.
Booger’s first flight.
Booger’s first trip away from New England.
Booger’s first unencumbered introduction to a cat.
Booger’s first canine anti-anxiety medication.
The next few days might be a little like this, only with a death metal soundtrack.
Am I too late for Movember?
This is why I don’t get tattoos I can’t see.
Tattoo artist Ryan Fitzgerald from Dayton, OH was hit with a $100,000 lawsuit last week by his ex-girlfriend Rossie Brovent. She claims that her boyfriend was supposed to tattoo a scene from Narnia on her back but instead tattooed an image of a pile of excrement with flies buzzing around it.
Apparently, Ryan found out that Rossie had cheated with a long-time friend of his, but instead of confronting her about it he acted like everything was normal and hatched a plan for revenge. Originally, Rossie tried to have Ryan charged with assault, but the ingenious tattoo artist had covered his bases by plying Rossie with wine and tequila shots and getting her to sign a consent form that stated the design was “at the artist’s discretion.”
No word from Rossie on whether the illicit night of passion with Ryan’s friend was worth it. Moral of the story? Never cheat on a tattoo artist.
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I just finished putting the final touches on my new E.P. this morning at about 4:00 AM. From recording to finished product in about 11 hours. Efficiency!
It’s affectionately called Born Into This and you can download the whole thing for free on my Bandcamp page.
ice cream sandwich
You guys I put Ice Cream Sandwich on my iPhone 4S.
Man… I would fuck Steve Jobs’ corpse for a Klondike bar right now.
LOOK WHAT I GOT IN THE MAIL FROM AINSLEY TODAY.
MY BRAIN IS STILL COMPREHENDING HOW AWESOME THIS IS. GETTING CHIPS, BRB.