My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
FOUND!!! Video of Ray G!
Do you really want or need an explanation? Ray G. is our commensurate friend and buddy that always seems to show up with perfect timing, carrying a casket full of iced up beers! Although he does not actually play hockey, he is considered an alumni of TWAHT. AKA "The Fat Man."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment