Learn about the mythology that surrounds the holiday.
Actually, we already know the true meaning of Halloween. Its doing shots off strippers dressed as Pokemon characters. That and bad candy.
Soon to be starring in her own WB series, its Brandi the Teenage Witch.
At this site we learn about Doc Horror, Halloween Girl, and the rest of the characters from Dan Brereton's comic book series. It seems they've either run out of good super-hero character names or this is one lame comic book.
Typing in Halloween into MSN Search returned a lot of results from Detroit. Coincidence or gateway to the underworld? You decide.
Even the undead or getting in on the webcam bandwagon.
Not so famous actor gets shot by police at halloween party. Those damn police! Now he'll never have the chance to overdose like all good actors are supposed to.
I'm hungry, but damn, I had the Dead Sea Soup for lunch.
So, I spent the entire weekend feeling really sick.
I hate that.
Isn't it always the case that the weekend roles around and it is either raining, you can't get to the bank to get cash, or you feel sick. On this particular weekend all three of those were the case. Only it wasn't raining, it was just about 30 degrees colder than it had been all week.
And I could get cash, conceivably, there are 24 hour ATMs all over the place, except none of them had any deposit envelopes. If you can't put money in the bank, you have no money to get out of the bank. And I was sick. Still am.
I think it must have been a combination of no sleep, poor eating habits, too much smoking and watching the Mets lose in five.
Considering I'd been planning on watching games six and seven of the World Series this weekend, I didn't make a backup. So, I basically had nothing to do this weekend. But it is nice to know that I _could_ have done something if I had wanted to.
But no, I have a cough. A fever. Mucus.
Instead of going to Halloween parties, smoking cigarettes, and doing shots off of strippers, I was at home, watching crappy movies, drinking gallons of orange juice and peeing a lot. I drank so much damn juice that when I would take a whiz it smelled like someone had just peeled an orange.
On Sunday afternoon there was the fabulous lineup of "Three Ninjas," "Nightmare on Elm Street Part (actually I don't remember which part but not one of the good ones), "and "Hocus Pocus."
"Three Ninjas" is a positively awful tale of about three plucky youngsters who take down a crime lord. It was equal parts "Karate Kid," "Home Alone," and every live-action Disney pap. It is one of those films where you sit through the whole thing and then immediately begin crying over the loss of two hours of your life. I could have spent that time looking at lesbians on the inter-net!
And next there was one of the latter sequels in the "Nightmare on Elm Street" series. It wasn't so much scary as funny. Actually, it wasn't even funny in that way that really bad horror movies are funny. There was a scene in which Mr. Cruger, AKA Fredward Scissorhands, is chasing after some dumb bitch. He tries to slice her up real good and his claws get stuck in the hardwood floor. It reminded me of a Three Stooges movie and was as similarly unfunny.
Last but last, there was "Hocus Pocus," another piece of Disney brilliance. Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker and the fat nun from "Sister Act" star as three witches. The least said the better. The Divine Miss M is only good when playing herself. Oh wait I take that back, she was playing a three hundred year-old witch, so she isn't even a good actress when playing herself. And have you seen her new sitcom? Right, neither has anyone else.
If I wasn't ready to kill myself after that triple feature, I don't know what would get me there.
Oh yeah, I know, the fact that Hillary Clinton is ahead in the race for the New York State Senate seat. If she manages to win, I either have to immediately jump off the top of the Empire State building or flee to Canada. But I fear it'll be much too cold in Canada in 11/, I get sick easily.
I had a rough night (damn yankees!), so I won't be updating until later today or tomorrow.
Check back for, eh. For now, here is stuff.
Listen to the official Bad Samaritan LAUNCHcast station!
So, I am writing now from the subway, the N train if you must know, on my way home from work. It's like 8:30 or so. I am writing on my palm, pilot that is, which is kind of a bitch.
While I've gotten pretty good with graffiti I am not that goos. That is why sometimes I write 's' instead of 'd.' Also, the N train is a very bumpy ride. This must be what it was like to ride the train back when they were still pulled by horses.
And when I write on the train I always miss my stop. There it goes, oh no, that wasn't it yet. Fooled you!
Speaking of graffiti, I saw some on the side of a mailbox on my way to the train station. I couldn't exactly read what was on it, which is very sad. When I was younger I used to be all about graffiti.
This was back when you could actually tag up on the side of a subway car, you could still get a buzz from sniffing markers and before the scene had so much cred that they do retrospectives on it at the Met.
The only bit I was able to understand now was the word perverts. I thought that was kind of amusing.
To get even further from my original point, there is this bit of graffiti around where I work. It says: I heart porno. Except it doesn't say heart but is actually a picture of a heart. I walk out of my way every morning so that I can pay homage at the shrine of porno. I want a T-shirt made from that graffiti.
I was going to make these t-shirts in support of my man George W. that said I heart bush on one side and I heart dick on the other. Except it wouldn't say heart but would instead be a picture of a heart.
I didn't end up making those shirts because I am a lazy lazy man. Between working ten hours a day building other people's websites, then coming home and working on my own stupid website I don't have time for fun things like making t-shirts.
Or watching teen angst on the WB, downloading porn from the inter-net, sleeping, eating blah blah blah.
I hope Bush wins the election if only so that I can have a chance to make those shirts. (Also because I like his plan for school vouchers).
I think maybe in four years I might not be so lazy anymore.
Hey! About palm pilots and other personal digital assistants (PDA) - have you heard about Avantgo? It is a very cool and free software/service that lets you download inter-net sites to your PDA for viewing whenever you want. Like when you are on the subway and it is too bumpy to write. Or when you get sick of playing solitaire.
So all of the channels they have there are stupid. Yahoo!, Fox, Rolling Stone, blah blah blah. But you can make your own channels. I made one for drew and one for stileproject (yes, you can even see pictures!) and one even for badsamaritan.
Yes, I do realize how narcissistic that sounds, but I only did it for research purposes. Now I can tell you all to go to Avantgo and make your own Bad Samaritan channel! Hooray!
It will be the most fun you ever had with your palm!
So it's Monday night in quiet Ames, Iowa, and visions of sugarplums and Greek statues are dancing in my head as I prepare to enjoy a practically sleepless night studying for an art history exam on the following day. I'm walking along with Bob, a friend of mine, heading towards Santa Fe Espresso, in the middle of Campustown.
It's about 10pm. We cross Lincoln Way. I'm wearing green corduroy pants, a beige shirt, and sporting a shaved head and a green backpack. Bob is wearing large jeans, a red long-sleeved t-shirt, a red backpack, and spiked brown hair with blonde tips. Bob is straight and I am not (this is important to the story.) We're not doing anything that looks obviously gay, correct? It usually takes a bit more to make such a judgement. And besides, snap judgements are bad, mmmmkay?
Apparently we might as well have been sucking each other off in the middle of Campustown, or perhaps I'm just that obvious. Doubtful, though. Anyway, a car drives past us going the other direction and the driver sticks his head out of the car and yells, Hey, fagboys! Which one of you is going to be the wife?
Bob and I were so taken aback that we didn't know what to do. Had we just been the victims of verbal harrasment on a Monday night in quiet, peace-loving Ames? Or were the silly drunk boys just randomly accosting people and happen to hit the queer, err, nail on the head? Who knows. Maybe he just had good gaydar. It is, however, disturbing. Ames has been the victim of much random anti-gay activities, to other similar stories of drive-by comments to bar beatings.
So what's this all about? Is it so hard to break out of your 'everyone must be exactly like me' paradigm? Whatever happened to 'variety is the spice of life?' Be nice, people. It makes for bad karma to be hateful. Be drinkable. Stop being childish.
Coming home from work last night I saw easily the must disturbing and disgusting thing I have seen in a long long while. Even more disgusting than the big fat guy who walks around my neighborhood with no shirt on. I think that guy has leprosy because his skin is all grey and white.
Not white like me, because I am a computer geek and have spent no more than 7 minutes in direct sunlight in the last 3 years. No, this guy is more white like as if he had taken off all his clothes and used his naked body to clean up a chalkboard.
Also, he wears these flip-flops everyday and it looks like some of toes have fallen off.
So, what I saw was even more disturbing than that guy.
There is this place in my neighborhood called "Al-Noor Halal Meats." I've been living here for almost 6 months now and I've never given much thought to the place. I'm guessing they must sell meat there since that is the only word on their sign that I can understand.
They must be some kind of Indian or Pakistani butcher. I am a vegetarian, but not militant about it or anything. I mean, it doesn't really bother me or disgust me or whatever unless I am being forced to eat it. And I am used to Chinatown, where every store, whether restaurant, stationary store, or bridal boutique, has all sorts of dead animals - ducks, chicken, rabbit, etc - hanging in their windows. Unless I am being forced to look at the inside-out carcass of a dead bunny rabbit hanging upside-down in a store window, then I am pretty much okay.
So, I am going home last night, and am walking on the opposite side of the street as Al-Noor Halal's meat palace. I am just passing the place when I see someone parked in front pulling something out of the trunk of his car. The guy pulls out something and slings it over his shoulder.
This is the point at which I am stopped dead in my tracks. The person walking behind me almost crashed into my back and nearly dropped all their groceries. She then starts cursing at me. But I ignored that old lady, and I continued to watch the dude pulling stuff out of his trunk.
I am enthralled and shocked and really disgusted. What the guy is pulling out of his trunk are dead animals. I can't exactly tell what they were from across the street. They certainly weren't chicken, or rabbit. Like I said, I am pretty much used to little dead things.
But these were big dead things. They weren't big enough for cows. It must have been like goat, or dear or something. What was truly weird is that it was the whole damn animal. And that it was being pulled out of the trunk of some guy's car. And that there was no questions of sanitaryness. He was just pulling them out of the trunk and slinging them over his shoulder.
He had about three up there when he closed the trunk and went into Al-Noor Halal Meat. Well, that was the disgusting part of the story, this is the disturbing bit:
This was the first time I got to be thinking about that store. After having passed it two times a day, every day for the last six months I never really took the time before. I looked up because I hadn't known the stores name and that was when I noticed the store next to it had a sign saying "Laundry." Looking back down, I realized that there was no laundry there. No, "Al-Noor Halal" and "Laundry," although they had two distinct signs, were in fact one store.
A one-stop laundromat/butcher?
Is it not really a butcher, but a place to get your meat cleaned?
And if, the "Meat" part of "Al-Noor Halal Meat" doesn't have the same meaning it does in English as it does in whatever the hell language that is, why was the guy bringing the dead goats in there?
I don't know the answer to those or any of the other questions that popped into my head, and I hope to never to learn the real answer. That's a case for Mulder and Scully. Or Scully and that guy from Terminator 2.
I'm being particularly link-slutty today, so no coherent thoughts, just these:
The Blessed Virgin Mother, I mean the musician, Madonna, won her court case for the rights to the URL Madonna.com. The World Intellectual Property Organization (the what?) took the URL from Don Parisi, porn entrepreneur, who had a similar fight over his Whitehouse.com. Parisi had been planning on donating the URL to some nuns, the folks who currently run Madonna.org. Good for Madonna, I guess, but I hope this doesn't set a precedent. I don't want Pat Buchanon suing us over the use of badsamaritan.com.
My pal adam wrote a bit for Bad Samaritan last week about the music biz and why most good bands can't make it. The next day Chuck D gives the keynote address at the opening of the CMJ Music Fest and talks about the EXACT SAME THING. Coincidence or alien involvement?
Subway Series madness. I almost couldn't even watch the first game because it was too painful. I had to keep switching channels because I couldn't bear the stress. Except, I don't have cable so every time I switched channels "Touched by an Angel" or some other CBS crap, was on. So, I ended up watching the whole damn thing. Painful. I don't think I can bear to watch another one, no matter who ends up winning. (Go Mets!)
Speaking of Subway Series', the fighting continues in Israel. When hasn't the fighting continued in Israel? Read a fantastic piece about the whole history of that mess on Suck.com. And let me add, I aspire to Suck. I just hope when day people use the words "Suck" and "Bad Samaritan" in the same sentence. Yes, I realize what I just said.
I spent a large part of the weekend reading all the Drew archives. From the beginning. Ouch. My head hurts. But at least I know how to get rid of that pesky squirrel in my backyard. Also that creepy neighbor kid. If you've never read Drew, go there NOW. It is the only inter-net site you will ever need. Well, besides for this one.
I've been thinking of doing a new design for the site. For the beginning of 11/, that is. And then maybe updated each month. Any of you particularly married to this design? If so, I guess I could wait a while, the site has been up for less than a month, after all. And I am so awfully awfully lazy.
Oi. Gotta love cheap spell checkers - "Begining = Begging." Actually, I think they know me too well.
If you are a frequent and observant reader, you'll have noted that I had some banners from Microsoft's Link Exchange up on my site for a couple days. You did notice, didn't you?
I got this mail from them when I got home from my vacation last weekend.
*etc* firstname.lastname@example.org Thank You, bCentral Policy Enforcement Department
- adult content including nudity, adult oriented books, magazines, videos, sex-toys, escort services, etc.
It appears, again, that porn is my down-fall.
Has anyone noticed anything particularly offensive on this site? If so, please let me know. I'm not going to do anything about it, but it would still be nice to know.
If your are observant, I haven't had any problem finding other advertising. Although, it's probably only a matter of time before these folks take a look at this site and pull their cash too. Capitalism at work.
> -----Original Message----- > From: Steve [mailto:addresswithheld] > Sent: Wednesday, October 18, 2000 1:03 PM > To: mg > Subject: Site > > It is an extremely strange site. > > I didn't really understand it. > > Not my generation I guess...
Some friends of mine back in college were really into the musical "Oliver."
When the film was shown in the Union at the school we went to, they went to the show dressed as characters from the show and acted out scenes and sang along to songs in front of the screen. They called it the "Oliver Horror Picture Show."
I hear it was hilarious. But I didn't see them do it, nor have I ever actually seen "Oliver."
I didn't really like "Hard Knock Life" from his previous album, "Volume 2 - Hard Knock Life" and its use of "It's The Hard-Knock Life" from the musical "Annie."
I've seen "Annie."
I hate that redheaded, no-eyed little bitch. And her stupid no-eyed dumb dog. Not to mention her no-eyed, shiney-headed dad.
My mom would force me to watch that stupid movie every time it came on TV. That and "The Sound of Music."
Damnit, how I used to wish I was an orphan. Then I could either A) live on the street and have cool friends like the Artful Dodger, or B) get adopted by a rich-step parent and have all sorts of crazy adventures.
I mean, where the hell is my Artful Dodger?
Where is my rich step parent?
I'd even be willing to call Yul Brenner "Daddy Warbucks" if you get my drift.
Whatever happened to Punjabi? Have you read the "Annie" comic in the Sunday paper recently? No Punjabi there.
I often ask myself when it stopped being okay to make fun of people different then us real Americans? Someone should tell "The Simpsons" because I still get a kick out of Apu.
Someone should also tell "The Simpsons" that it'd cheaper if they didn't draw pupils in their characters eyes.
It would save time in what, I'm sure, is already a tight production schedule. And James L. Brooks, the show's producer, would be able to save some of the seventy cents he pays the animators in that Korean labor camp each month.
That money could really add up one day.
And I'd certainly be willing to call Matt Groening my "Daddy Warbucks."
Or, Why do some bands make it and others donít?
So? Why? It sure ainít talent. At least, it ainít just talent. It canít possibly be. You canít look at the current pop music scene and seriously think that all these acts got there by their own graces. It just doesnít work that way. Talent comes in with about, letís say, 15% of the reason for their success. So whatís the rest? Luck comes in huge, but also huge is marketing. Business, man.
Letís talk about Skeleton Key. Have you heard of them? Of course you havenít. They were a band that if you had to file them in a category would go in the punk / rock section of the store. They were smart, they were hip (-looking), they had a gimmick (two drummers: one on the regular stuff, and one on found metal objects a propane tank, a little red wagon, a sheet of aluminum, and so forth), and they were talented. I first saw them open for They Might Be Giants in 1995 in Prospect Park, where they were pretty good for an eight-month old band. I remembered them after a few months and hunted down an EP they had out. I saw them again, opening for Jawbox in 1996. In 03/or so of 1997 their first album ("Fantastic Spikes Through Balloon;" okay, rather a stupid title, but at least it lacks the bring-down-the-frathouse hilarity of "Enema of the State") came out.
Then what happened? Nothing. Not a single damn thing. Skeleton Key toured a lot, playing with other hip indie bands no oneís heard of, and then disappeared. Just kind of faded away. Whose fault is it? Theirs? Their labelís (Capitol, if you must know), for not providing the publicity? The music industry as a whole? You people out there, for not searching them out? I happen to think the label was the problem, but maybe it was also the public, preferring to be told what to listen to rather than finding it for themselves (for some related irony, see below).
I posed a question above, and I didnít really answer it, and Iím not going to, because there isnít one simple answer and because there isnít even one complicated answer; you can try to sum it up by saying "itís marketing" or "itís about bandwagoning," but that will leave out relevant facets of the situation. And I just donít feel like arguing with you.
On that note, the following is a list (in no particular order) of lesser-known artists that you should search out and listen to, to make yourself a better person:
- Skeleton Key
- Burning Airlines
- Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet
- Soul Coughing*
- Dukes of Stratosphear
- The Up On In
- North Mississippi Allstars
- Alice Donut
- Yo La Tengo
Iíd include a list of well-known bands to avoid, except it would be far too long.
I took a little vacation this past weekend. I actually took Monday off from work, which is why there wasn't a new thing yesterday. Sorry.
Well, I was in the airport waiting for my connecting flight and I look up from my Tom Clancy novel (or was it John Grisham?) when I see this rather large and scary looking dog.
I think it was a Doberman, but all its fur was black.
Now, I've never seen a dog wandering around an airport before so I assumed there must be a blind person of my flight.
I thought it kind of odd that they would choose such a rather large and scary looking dog to be a helper for a blind person but then I thought that a blind person probably wouldn't think that the dog was that scary looking after all.
I adjusted my gaze a little further in order to get a good look at who the dog belonged to and saw a rather large and scary looking guy to go along with the rather large and scary looking dog.
The guy turned around a little and I could see that he wasn't wearing any sunglasses and his eyes didn't look all weird and clear like when LeVar Burton would take off his banana clip on Star Trek.
The rather large and scary guy who was not blind at all (he might have had an astigmatism - I could not tell) turned around some more and I could see on his windbreaker the word "POLICE."
Oh, I thought, this must be one of those drug sniffing dogs my friend, the mule, is always talking about.
Good thing I had decided to leave that kilo of crack-cocaine at home!
You may not know this, but John Holahan died several weeks ago, at the ripe old age of 83.
Most of you probably don't know who John Holahan is. But he was the guy who invented Lucky Charms cereal. You also probably didn't know that anyone had even invented Lucky Charms, or at least if someone had, it was a 3' tall Irishmen who always dressed in green.
I had no idea people who created cereals were called 'inventors.' Or that cutting up some Circus Peanuts (basically really nasty orange marshmallow candies) and sprinkling them over a bowl of Cheerios (the actual story of how Lucky Charms came to be) could even be called inventing.
But even if Lucky Charms isn't a real invention (like there is anyone out there who has found more enjoyment
from a light bulb than they have from a bowl of 'Charms) I really liked that damn cereal and am going to miss ol' John.
I'd never actually buy a box of Lucky Charms, though. I mean, come on, I could buy a box of Cheerios and a bag of Circus Peanuts for way less money and have the added bonus of being bale to cut stuff. Otherwise I just buy one of the generic brands. Personally my favorite is Marshmallow Mateys. It makes me feel like a pirate. I like booty.
It may be hard to do, but one can find humor even in this tragedy.
That humor certainly doesn't come from what I'm writing, but rather from trying to figure out what is more ironic, that anyone having anything to do with a product called Lucky Charms would die in a horrible accident or that he was on his way to visit his daughter in a hospital, where she was in a coma.
I guess that is not really funny at all.
We are huge egomaniacs here at BS. Although, isn't everyone, really? I mean, who hasn't, at some point, gone to Yahoo! and typed their own name into the search box?
So, here is a first installment in what I'm calling 'Search Result Wednesday'.
This week, I searched for Bad Samaritans on Google. I started there because Google is fun to say.
Look! someone wrote a book about us. Hmm... Are we the vicar, his wife, or the Bosnian named Stanko? *sniff* *sniff* Stanko it is.
A biblical reference!
Diaries on the web are fun.
This made me laugh. I don't think it was supposed to. Who am I to make fun of anybody, but at least I don't use the word 'sux.'
How crazy. I'd actually read this article when I was still in school. Boring as shit. But raises some good points. Can't wait for the movie.
Innocent bystander gets caught in gang
fight. Shot three times, luckily for him, right outside a hospital. Except he dies anyway because hospital staff aren't allowed to leave the hospital. I think they were lieing, I saw Clooney leave E.R all the time.
We Bad Samaritans are no match for Major Victory, Lady Liberty, Silent Majority, Mayflower, and The Sparkler. Well, I think we could take Mayflower, and forget about The Sparkler, but Silent Majority would kick our asses. You gotta, love Silver Age comic book heroes.
Remind me not to go to Stockton, California. Although, they are right about one thing though, ONLY FAGGOTS SHAVE THEIR LEGS!
I'm not sure what the editorial at the bottom of this page has to do with Bad Samaritans, but I can offer a few suggestions about what I think is wrong with Pakistan. The difference between India and Pakistan is kind of like the difference between Canada and the U.S. except India is no U.S. I could say more, but this author is shamed by his inability to write catchy phrase like "asseverates at various international fora."
Bad Samaritans find safety in numbers. Hop on board! And, according to Chapter 2, people in love tend to find each other more attractive. We've found a pitcher of Bass Ale tends to work as well. Also, according to Chapter 7 Extroverts tend to have intercourse at a younger age, and more frequently, with more partners, and in more positions, than introverts. Ahh, psychology, what could be more useful? I think the webmaster of that site should go back to experimenting with monkeys.
Thats it for now. My cache is about to explode.
So, I realized that I've been updating the site in the evening most often. That is when I have the time to actually write, edit, and format the pages for placing up on the web. Now, that wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that by the time most people actually SEE the page it is the next day.
Which means what they are reading is old news.
No one really reads the site anyway, so old news isn't a big deal. Except to me. I want my loyal reader (hi mom!) to be up-to-date about the latest BS there is.
That means that this little bit of fluff I am currently writing is not really meant to be read, rather, it is a place holder so that I have something for today, 10/10/00, and what I would have put up on the site for today will actually go up tomorrow.
So, stop reading. Come back tomorrow.
Oh, wait, don't stop reading yet. Join the mailing list.
The list is kindly supplied by the good folks at NotifyList.com
Okay, when I said that I would update everyday I lied. Or at least misspoke. What I meant to say was that I would update every WEEKDAY. Okay, now that that is clear...
What? You say I didn't update Friday. Thanks for noticing. Well, here's the deal folks - I think the fact I had worked 27 hours over the course of Wed-Thursday gave me the right to take a day off, if not from work, at least from this little website.Cut me some slack, eh?
I mean, if you had the choice between going out and getting stinking drunk, stumbling home and passing out for 13 straight hours, or sitting in front of a computer and writing some stupid shit, what would you do? Right.
And it isn't like I left you all in a lurch. I put something up on Saturday.
Also, I spent a good chunk of the weekend learning some PHP. It's like Perl, only easier and more usefull, at least for someone like me, who had trouble with Basic on his Commodore 64 (I never could get "Hello World" to work).
You might notice up in your browser's Location Bar thingee that this file is called, SOMETHING.PHP rather than SOMETHING.HTM. Other than that, you shouldn't notice any difference (if you do, or really anythign f'ed up about the site, let me know). Which begs the question, why the hell did I spend my entire weekend working on this crap when I could have been watching the Mets trounce the Giants. Uhm. Well. *Shrug*
Actually, there is a very important reason - I'm an idiot. Also, it'll make my life much easier, eventually. Instead of having to update each file individually, I make one change and every daily update gets, uhh, updated. I'll be able to go on vacation and have pre-written stories update each day automatically. Contributers (if they ever get off their lazy asses) will only have to learn only one (1!) HTML tag in order to post their own articles. So, see, I'm not such an idiot after all. Well, at least not for this.
Anyway, tomorrow will be something way more interesting, I promise. Go look at some pretty pictures for today.
I want to be the air
to fill your lungs
and bring you life.
To exist as but a breath
between your lips
as you whisper my name.
Yes, that was a poem. There won't be many of those.
I'm no fucking queer!
The summer of 2000's greatest addition to pop culture is not The Thong Song. It's not Survivor either. And it is certainly not Big Brother. No, the Summer of '00 will always be remembered, at least by us anyway, as the summer of the backless shirt
Working in New York City's trendy SoHo district I am often faced with the burning question of how Victoria's Secret can possibly stay in bussiness when no women in that neighborhood, and very few in the entire city, seem to even own a bra. Aren't they worried about chafing?
So, I am certainly not surprised when I see a
lovely, and of course the occasional not-so-lovely, woman showing points, but the first time I saw one of these things out in public I was shocked. I mean, I'd not seen so much flesh since the last time I'd rented "Genital Hospital 6."
And while I do so love this fashion trend and am dreading the inevitable progression toward winter and big, bulky sweaters, there is one caveat. Before you put one of these things on, ask yourself a question:
"Can the rolls of fat on my back possibly be mistaken for a second set of breasts?"
If the answer is yes, or even a maybe, then you should steer clear if this particular fashion trend.
That and cheesburgers.
I watched the dabate last night. Is it just me, or is Al Gore not the spitting image (at least vocally) of Mr.Garrison from South Park? All he needs to do to complete the look is to wear Lieberman as a hand puppet. He'd sure get the youth vote that way. And the fisting vote.
Its stuff about the election here in the States. But for all you foreigners, or resident aliens, or 14 year old boys just looking for porn, it isn't a boring site - they have a survey! That's always a fun way to kill a couple minutes and waste some precious precious bandwidth. You should take the poll.
|56||George W. Bush|
|48||Patrick J. (Pat) Buchanan|
|42||Albert Gore Jr.|
I've never heard of those first two guys, which means I'd be throwing my vote away if I went for either of them. George
W it is. It must be, the poll told me so. And the inter-net doesn't lie. Oh, no, the Internet would never lie to me, not like evil TV.
I like that Al Gore came in dead last. Behind Ralph Nader and Pat Buchanan. And the socialist even. I mean, who would ever vote for a socialist?
-----Original Message----- From: Dan Klinger
Sent: Saturday, September 16, 2000 9:43 AM
Subject: What a website - Its great. Now do something with it.
You guys suck make it work or get off the net.
Sure thing Dan! We love to please our readers!
After months of waiting, well one month to be exact, badsamaritan.com is finally up and running.
If you are reading this that means you are one of the lucky few! I know I feel lucky to have you here, maybe we can get lucky together sometime.
Check back daily, since that is how often things will be updated.
Later for now, see you tomorrow.
Oh yeah, FU too Dan!