Mr. Orange, Mr. White, and Mr. Pink
Today’s blog title is courtesy of Gina Party. This song was playing on the radio today while we were on the phone. She was convinced it was sung by 38 Special. I was thinking more along the lines of Corey Hart. She was right. I was wrong. Besides, I owe her a few props. She’s been letting me sleep in her house after I consumed a lot of barley drinks. That’s like handing a match to the Unabomber.
And I haven’t even mentioned that she let me use her washer and dryer to wash my bed sheets and blankets last weekend. It wouldn’t surprise me if she took Monday off and spent the day scrubbing her laundry room in a hazmat suit.
Joke of the Day
A father walks into his teenage son’s room and catches him masturbating. “You better quit that,” the dad tells his son.
“Why?” the son asks.
“Because you’ll go blind.”
The son waves his arms and says, “Dad, I’m over here.”
– Diddy: Lower oil prices so I can fly on private jet. What a douche. NSFW
Don’t say it’s over. I just can’t say goodbye.