Anytime someone says, "BAMM!" as an exclamation to get their point across, you should be allowed to reply with a Flintstone caveman-club to their knee caps. "That's MR. BAMM-BAMM to you, bitch!"
While shopping, I walked past a young couple, her guy checked me out, she caught him, then rolled her eyes at me and sighed under her breath, "strippers" meaning for it to be an insult. I'm not a stripper, but I gave him a lap dance anyway right there in produce. Whoever ends up buying those tiny plums, my apologies. Same goes for the cherry tomatoes. (I got a little carried away.) I had a point to make and they don't sell Ping-Pong balls in produce!
Straight interior designers work on story concepts, puzzles, waiting for that perfect moment when all the pieces connect. For example: multi-million-dollar designs for upscale hotels. I'm a little confused who they are trying to attract based on the lobby interior décor, i.e. red endorements, floor plated butterflies, papier-mâché carousel horses, surrounded by papier-mâché flowers, and the very large colorful metallic (whatever the fuck that exhibit is!) being closely guarded by security guys who I saw few nights previous doing naked cannon-ball dives at a private beach club party. Very confusing. But then I saw a guy checking into the hotel with a sizeable question mark tattoo on the back of his neck, and it aaaaall made sense. Gay designers, you walk into a hotel and it's just in your face FABULOUS. Straight desginers, I have no idea what's going on until all the pieces finally connect... like Dominos...
Pink Floyd... Lost.
To the guy masturbating in the parking lot, dude you're neither a grower therefor not a show'er. And you should probably be concerned that the only person who stopped to watch you masturbate was the homeless guy carrying rope.
Yesterday, on a busy sidewalk, this guy realized his shorts were on backwards, and so he just yanked them down around his ankles, bent over, stepped out of them, stood back up, held his shorts up to eye level, spun the shorts around, bent back down, and put the shorts back on. Kudos to you sir for not caring that you weren't wearing underwear.
Lightening plus rain, plus hot make-up artists (and their boyfriends) you meet at the cosmetic store under Madame Tusauds equals intense Stratosphere fireworks!
My UFC Fight prediction tonight is... they sell beer at this thing, right?
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