Interestingly enough, she didn’t put any names on it. She wrote (in magic marker) “go #5, #16, #38, #7″ etc. For some reason, that’s not inspirational to me. Come on. You had a blank white shirt and a magic marker and that’s the design you came up with? Are you afraid people are going to get traded so you don’t actually want to commit to writing their names? It’s not like you spent any money here.
This wouldn’t be irritating if it weren’t for the shorts, you understand this I hope.
No words can do these people justice. I will remain silent.
Okay, so maybe this kid got a specialized work permit and managed to get a job at age 8 so that he can buy any t-shirt he wants, but chances are an adult bought this kid his shirt. While I have no problem with people choosing to smoke marijuana (as long as they aren’t endangering anyone, but rarely have I felt threatened by some stoner brandishing his pipe at me from the comfort of his own couch threatening to splash me with bong water so I feel relatively safe in that regard), I do have a problem with adults allowing their kids to wear clothing that insinuates that their pre-pubescent child is getting stoned or drunk. Now maybe, one could say, the kid just liked the PacMan, but my guess is that if you’re saying that, you grew up in the 1980s so you have some sort of PacMan nostalgia and the images makes you feel happy inside. Don’t forget that this kid was born in a completely different CENTURY that the rest of us and I don’t think they have PacMan for the Xbox360 (though admittedly I haven’t checked) so that doesn’t check out either. Therefore the only reasonable explanation is that this kid is a 6th grade dropout who sits around getting baked with his parents all day, feeding pot to the family dog to watch it freak out when you throw its tennis ball, sitting on the streetcorner offering to get people a “diagnosis” so that their weed is legal, and that, my friends, is not okay.
Fucking kids.
I don’t know what that means. I tried the food there, and it didn’t taste like a luxury vehicle at all. It tasted like chicken.
But that doesn’t completely absolve you of the responsibility to put at least one part of your car in close proximity to one part of the curb. I won’t even be specific on which part, that’s up to you (liberals love giving choices). But next time, try to avoid just stopping in the middle of the street, shutting off your car, and then going up to your apartment with a shrug of “I can’t help it, the curb shape is irregular!” Lazy does not make the world go ’round, people.
In honor of Think Cure week, several doctors, nurses and lab techs involved in cancer research were invited to throw out the first pitch. All at once.
(Click on the photo for a better view of the chaos.)
I would like to remind the Dodgers that I did prostate cancer research before I started med school AND I can throw a baseball without inflicting head trauma to anyone on the active roster. Please keep that in mind for next year. Thanks.
I can tell you that it was purchased at Victoria’s Secret, though I can’t give details.
Miss Oops JAKs. It’s really not going to catch on. For that price you could just go buy a few camisoles, ones that aren’t going to ride up and stick around your boobs and get caught in your folds.
And then he gave me a muffin top too, I must have been a good girl. Yay for me.
