So I made it through Independence Day with my liver mostly intact, and barely any more brain damage than usual. Still have all my fingers and toes, and other, more important appendages.
I figure I should get back into the habit of posting (even if I don't have anything to say), so I thought I'd start out slow. Maybe some picture, won't that be nice?
Be warned, these are all from my phone camera, so if you're expecting high quality, you will be disappointed. If you are expecting things like condoms in a cupcake holder, you are in luck.
This is a lamppost. I think I was at a red light and bored.
Um...ice cream cones. I don't know why I take most of the pictures I take. I sometimes have an idea, like if I take that picture I can use it with this other thing. Two months later, when I finally get around to looking through my photos, I see it and think, "Why on earth do I have that?"
Other times, I probably think something like that as soon as I take the picture. For example:
Here are a few from when I visited Camp Mabry with my family:
Let's see...what else? Ah, here's one:
That's from one day when I walked out to my truck and found that someone had tucked pigs-in-a-blanket under my windshield wipers. Because I surround myself with the type of people who will put pigs-in-a-blanket under your windshield wipers.
Speaking of gross meat crammed into vehicles, check out the license plate of this car:
I was picking up donuts for the fam when they came to visit, and my princess and I ended up behind this car. I was still pretty sleepy, and more than a little grumpy about being exposed to one of the Meyer fuckwits so early in the day. I was even more put out when I saw that it was a grown woman instead of a regular dipshit schoolgirl. I saw the woman in her mirror, and commented, "She looks exactly like you would think a grown woman with that license plate would look."
The next morning, I saw this. In case you're wondering, that's exactly what the woman looked like. Exactly. In fact, the woman in the article lives relatively close to here, so I'm pretty sure it's her. Either that, or reading Twilight actually makes you ugly and fat as well as stupid.
Anyway, enough about that. Although it does seem like natural selection at its best. You read this crap--which is basically a parable about abstinence--and you decide that sex is wrong, while you get dumb and ugly. It all works out, because you'll die alone without ever reproducing. Thank you, Stephenie, I guess I was all wrong about you. Except when I said you write like a monkey who has been eating crack and poisoned feces all day. I hope I live to see your death. Seriously.
Moving on. Here's some great sign placement:
And this is a bar that I will visit at some point:
I haven't yet, because it's in Hutto, Texas, a tiny little town with way too many things I don't like. On the other hand, Hutto also has Snuffy's Place, and I feel that I should go there at least once, even if it means I get beat up by rednecks and thrown bleeding into the alley.
These are flavored condoms:
You might be wondering why I have so many. I'm not going to tell you.
But I will show you another picture:
At this point, you might be wondering what that plastic box is that they're in. That would be a cupcake box. Mini-cupcake size, of course, because those condoms aren't gigantic. Why do I have a bunch of flavored condoms in a cupcake box?
I'm not gonna tell you that, either. But here's another picture:
Maybe someday I'll get around to sharing the story of the flavored condoms, but not right now. Because this is a post about pictures, that's why. Flavored condoms deserve their own post, don't you agree? Of course you do.
Well, a good rule of thumb is that when I start having imaginary conversations with you, I should probably end the post. It worked out well, since I'm pretty much out of pictures, anyway.
Later on, kids.
Posted under The Rants on 7/05/10