A while ago, I was confronted with the stark reality of my life, and I knew I had to make some changes. It was my fault; I see that now. I had been sabotaging my future for months, with the deviousness of an arsonist out of Palm Springs.
<p>Operator, some guy totally pumped on steroids just pulled me over and called me a “wuss” before firing a tazer dart into my neck. When I rolled out of the car, he kicked me with his boots, yelling, “Face down!
At a time when most hardworking Americans are concerned with the auspices of an economic recession, I too have been financially impacted, in a very personal way. A while ago, I ran up a small debt with a friend; what follows is a raw, unadulterated account of the emails sent by my friend as he tried to maintain grasp of the tenuous, and increasingly theoretical, outstanding debt.
<p>Hey, remember me? Your old buddy from high school! How ya doin? Ya look great. Me, I'm still living with my parents. Right now I don't have a job, but I'm trying to keep sending out positive vibes, so I'll get a sweet job, like being in charge of the police' evidence locker.</p>
When I was in college, I had good friends from India, England, France, Bahrain, Turkey and Bulgaria. My Indian friends identified themselves as Brahmins, and there were certain things they would not do. One day, we were playing ping-pong, and my buddy Amit was close to beating my buddy Ram, when the ball bounced into a large, plastic garbage can.
<p>I have enjoyed reading your glossy, ad-filled magazine for the past 17 months. However, it is time for me to make some changes. I will not be wearing boat shoes, designer shirts or a hundred-dollar haircut. Also, I will no longer be reading <em>BoatWorks</em>. It is a fine publication, and I enjoyed the pointers, and the very good photographs.
<p>Listen, Donna, I know we broke up, but I just read some R.L.
I'll tell you what I'm looking forward to most about becoming a complete degenerate: exposing my children to my heinous lifestyle.
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin: 0px">International House would like to invite you to the biggest party of the year, "Da Bomb." With six DJs, and over 600 speakers, this is an event that will not let you down.</p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin: 0px">Beth, tonight is the night when I will finally sex you. I know you've been waiting for this moment for a long time. I could tell, from the way you looked at me, that you wanted me to sex you.</p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin: 0px">I'm on this fruity quest for the ultimate reality, or some shit like that. That's what the philosophy 101 instructor was flapping his gums about for an hour this afternoon. But I can't remember exactly, since I had just blazed one.</p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin: 0px">How much you bench? It's a simple question. And I don't mean to be antagonistic. It is a natural question for one guy to ask another. So, how much you bench?</p>