I tried to give Chris an extra day. See if he could get another win on his picks. It was a forgone conlusion that he'd be wearing the stache' again this week. But, I was hoping he'd do better than FOUR correct picks. I didn't hope hard enough.
Chris went 4-10 this week on his football picks. FOUR and TEN. The evidence for my "Mustache Theory" is mounting. Chris won't be able to deny that he is secretly throwing this competition if he has another (blatant) terrible showing.
This weeks nostril neighbor was brought to you by Mr. Belvedere.
10 comments:
Plus it's hard not to think about you. When you're laying right next to him.
I think I found a long-lost member of your football pool. He's currently featured on my page, with his child bride. Or maybe he and Woody Allen have a co-op type thing set up.
Excellent use of zombie footage.
Karl, are you trying to prepare us for your impending sex change and hormone therapy by reminding us of what girls are "supposed" to be into? Trust me, we won't be at all surprised when you announce to the world that you want to be a lady.
Cheers, kitten.
No, actually, I think it was donated to the hospital you were born at. Something about an "emergency gender assignment operation" for an infant who had, tragically, been born with no sexual organs, but a giant gaping crater where they ought to be. Tragic, really. Would you know anything about that poor child or where to locate him? I always felt bad that he was forced to be a little boy. Obviously his parents didn't wait until he was old enough to ask him what he preferred. I'd like to send him a charitable donation. Perhaps some Barbies.
Your round, Mr. Bond?
What...what the? What happened here?!! I had a comment regarding Karla's weener. And that he WAS able to keep it. In a baby food jar. But it's gone now.
Chrissifer Mycal! Remember, your aura is black!
I'm sorry I couldn't resist a sex-change joke in order to validate your heightened degree of football suck this week, Sir Chris. I genuflect in apology. Feel validated. I just can't resist responding to unwarranted zombie-bashing. Dawn of the Dead means that much to me.
And Karl. There are "accidents" like me, and then there are botched abortions. Like you.
Shall we call it a draw, El Conquistador de los Machismo?
Maybe I should have mentioned I am engaged to a zombie filmmaker. I didn't realize you kittens found it so squiggly that a chick could A) be into zombies and still be very much a chick, and B) have a sense of humor and enjoy a good battle of the comebacks. Yeesh. Uptight much?
Night all.
Wow. Karla, you should've gotten something to make you relax while you were visiting up here.
So much...ANGER. You're making Chris look friendly.
WWRCD=What Would Ramcrisp Do?
Emily-
Once again, I apologize for Karl's intemperate remarks.
He clearly has forgotten that as a child he was taught to be respectful and considerate.
Karl, call your Dad.
Or am I...wait. No, you're right. PARRRTY!
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