If you missed it over on my compadre Madden's bloggy blog, here's a photo he took of a gas station near his office (reprinted here without any permission whatsoever):
To me, the funniest part of this photo isn't really the "arm and leg" part, but that the name of the gas station is "Jamco." Maybe it's just me, but a gas station named "Jamco" immediately shoots images into my mind of sleeveless grease monkeys jumping on the hoods of their flame-detailed Camaros, waging intense air-guitar wars to Eddie Money songs. I mean, they probably really jam over at Jamco, know what I'm sayin'? I like it a lot.
Other things I like a lot this morning:
- Dry honey nut Cheerios washed down with Lyon's Irish tea with honey and half & half. Yummy.
- The mental image of our wonder-producer Tom Polce sticking his head behind a speaker to adjust the PA in my basement and suddenly lurching around the room after getting a faceful of cobwebs. I'm carrying that image to my grave.
- Scientology. Seriously, it just makes sense. Read the literature before you get all judgy on my ass.
- David Wells. That big fat fuck is going to lace them up again? Nothing makes me happier. One of my favorite things in the world is watching Wells bounce around the diamond with his gigantor belly flapping in the breeze and thinking "That man is a professional athlete."
So you see - even though the world is in ever-expanding war while back home it's hot as buffalo balls, tunnels are falling on our heads and you need to take out a small business loan to fill your tank with gas, things are still in general pretty ok. Right?
To me, the funniest part of this photo isn't really the "arm and leg" part, but that the name of the gas station is "Jamco." Maybe it's just me, but a gas station named "Jamco" immediately shoots images into my mind of sleeveless grease monkeys jumping on the hoods of their flame-detailed Camaros, waging intense air-guitar wars to Eddie Money songs. I mean, they probably really jam over at Jamco, know what I'm sayin'? I like it a lot.
Other things I like a lot this morning:
- Dry honey nut Cheerios washed down with Lyon's Irish tea with honey and half & half. Yummy.
- The mental image of our wonder-producer Tom Polce sticking his head behind a speaker to adjust the PA in my basement and suddenly lurching around the room after getting a faceful of cobwebs. I'm carrying that image to my grave.
- Scientology. Seriously, it just makes sense. Read the literature before you get all judgy on my ass.
- David Wells. That big fat fuck is going to lace them up again? Nothing makes me happier. One of my favorite things in the world is watching Wells bounce around the diamond with his gigantor belly flapping in the breeze and thinking "That man is a professional athlete."
So you see - even though the world is in ever-expanding war while back home it's hot as buffalo balls, tunnels are falling on our heads and you need to take out a small business loan to fill your tank with gas, things are still in general pretty ok. Right?
4 Comments:
You really should get into golf. There's really nothing more David Wells-esque pleasurable than realizing a man with boobs just won $2 million playing golf, then watching his boobs bounce up and down, along with the boobs of his caddie, as he celebrates his victory.
Yeah, but those guys aren't athletes because golf is not a sport.
Discuss.
'Is golf a sport?' is played out. How about 'Is a marathon a sporting event, or just preparation for a real sport?' or even 'How many more motherfuckers in brightly colored underwear are going to swerve into my path on $7000 bicycles on Mass Ave before I freak out, hit them, get out of my car and insert their bicycle, piece by piece, into their scrawny white boy rectums?'
And golf isn't a sport, btw.
Did a grown man really say "yummy"? Thats wrong.
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