I’m not a tidy person. If I know I’m having company come over it takes me awhile to prepare because everything has to be cleaned from top to bottom. I’m not a pig, I’m just not tidy. The t.v. show “How Clean is Your House?” makes me feel confident that I am not that bad of a housekeeper. It’s the little things that are reassuring. It does annoy me however when I go to friends’ houses and they say “Sorry for the mess.” and I look around and see nothing wrong. “What mess?” “I didn’t vacuum.” Uhm. Okay. My vacuum is currently a coat rack.
It doesn’t, however, take much to gross me out. Friday as I ventured into the coldest effing washroom I’ve been in since Banff’s Hard Rock Cafe, I gazed around and felt my (totally inadequate–hello I said no banana peppers not more) bbq chicken quesadilla rising back up. The tiles and grout were covered in grunge not mud from winter boots but grunge because I looked and said grunge was crawling along the plumbing to the toilet. I emerged, looked at my mom and said, “I’m never eating here again.”
That being said, my lack of cleanliness/order did get me into trouble awhile back. I have piss poor wiring in my condo. I don’t know if they were drunk or what, but the wire isn’t fully connected to the screws inside my wall. Hello fire hazard. I know this. I am on a mission to clean out my second bedroom (started a couple of months ago) to call in my electrician to have him check every outlet in my condo as my bedroom has had 3 blackouts because of this wiring snafu. So I did a quick clean (ie. everything gets thrown into a laundry basket and tossed in the spare room hence the monumental task of cleaning out said second room) and the bedroom was hastily cleaned. In walked the electrician and he wandered into my room to check out the outlets. I stood there and I looked over at my night stand. Heat immediately crawled up my cheeks as I reached over and slid the newly spotted item under my pillow.
I think I need to go to Ikea.
~ pig pen little blue pill sharing way tmi dontcha think?
Pick up more funny vibes (and/or batteries) at Humor-blogs.com.
A short post in which we shamelessly promote our friends and/or beg one of our favorite bloggers to let us to join the ranks of Honorary Pez Dispenser — even as we strive to maintain our kick-ass standing on Humor-blogs.com.
Dear TAN LUCY PEZ,
WE love you. We really really do. Truth be told, we think every single little thing about you is nothing short of s’peztacular… including — but not limited to — your Three Amazing Daughters. Those girls…
THAT said, how long before you “invite” us to join the ranks of “Pez dispenser”? Lampsha is quite certain she’d look lovely perched atop something chic ‘n sleek, Teh Penguin says her moniker was made for Pez Plastic Infamy, and, despite the fact the Little Blue Pill already comes in delightful packaging, she’s ready to forgo her’s for the sake of crunchy-fruit-flavored goodness. In addition, the delightful Miz BoheMia may have briefly lost herself in all things San Francisco, but she, too, shows promise as a future Dispensór de la Péz. As for Snuppy? Poor pathetic thing… is she not shameless enough? How many different ways need she declare her love and affection for all things Pez?
NEEDLESS to say, we can’t (and/or won’t) speak for the likes of Diesel and/or Crummy(not)Joel — those boys will have to come up with their own devices for garnering your trust and/or acceptance, our hands are full taking care of ourselves and/or our own selfish needs. But screw them, they’ve each recently published Very Funny Books, and fans will surely follow them wherever they go, Shirley. Naturally, the polls are still out on Harmonica Man — he certainly seems like a nice enough guy, but is he Pez-worthy? Alas, ’tis too soon to tell.
IN an effort to further endear you to ourselves and/or sway future Pez-related (heh) decisions, we decided to feature a happy video for your benefit and/or amusement. Suffice to say THIS POST of yours inspired our need to share the story of The Deer who Would Not Be Killed come Hell and/or Speeding Cop. Sadly, while it made us happy to see a beautiful buck hop over a Sheriff’s cruiser, we also got bored, because, really, how many times do we need to see him do it? We get it… the magnificent creature avoided being killed by jumping outta the way at the last possible minute. Yeesh. What can we say, we’re nothing if not crippled by incredibly short attention spans. Which is why we’ve instead elected to share the following disturbing-yet-darn-hilarious video, dedicated to the concept that (some) Deer Hunters are (truly) Stoopid.
FYI: the above deer sketch was done by The Whitest Kids U Know.
~snuppy
PS: You allowed Our Favorite Curmudgeon to join your ranks years ago, when can we expect the same? Our Pezzy Status (or lack, thereof) notwithstanding, we do think your gang o’ spunky Pez Pals did a right fine job coming up with a perfect dispenser for your “adopted son”. Honestly? We think it suits him to a Cranky “T”.
PPS: laughter is dispezned 24/7 on Humor-blogs.com.
PPEZ: candy is dispensed from 9-5 TLPST near Humor-blogs.com.
PPPS: that was a lie from the Pits of Pezzy Hell. Bring your own damn candy, then choke on it while laughing at Humor-blogs.com.
University lectures officially finished today…and I am embracing three weeks of final exams and pencil chewing ahead of me. But before I dive into my books without a life boat or compas for safe return, I thought it was only right I got a little seasonal. No, it’s not that time of month…I mean that time of year.
I love the Christmas season and it starts for me when I feel the smell of oranges and clementines. Yesterday Mom went shopping and brought home a basket full of oranges and so Christmas season started this year on a Monday, around tea time.
The reason I love this smell so much goes all the way back to East Germany. No, it was not a country known for its unlimited growth of various citrus fruits. I am not sure what we were known for, if anything…maybe communism and a passion for unfortunate haircuts.
East Germany was rather poor, from hindsight of course. As a kid I didn’t think I lacked anything, simply because I did not have a frame of reference to anything else but the neighbours kids, who wore the same kind of boots and Auntie Agnes did cut their hair too.
Christmas was special even back then. I always knew the Season approached when an envelop with a fancy stamp arrived. In that rather unassuming envelope was a white sheet of paper; on it was a date, some other numbers and little tickets, usually green. The date mentioned when a special delivery would arrive to our local store and the green tickets (special Christmas food stamps) showed how much had been alotted to our particular family that year.
Christmas was all about that day. The entire village would get ready early in the morning and stand in line of the still closed store. Konsum, we used to call it. The doors opened and people moved along; nobody skipping in line, we are German after all. When our family got to the front, my Mom used to give our green stamps to the lady at the counter. She would turn around and I’d see the world’s most beautiful thing: the pile of oranges. So many of them and the lady would count the appropriate amount into my Mom’s bag. I always counted feverishly with her, hoping she’d make a mistake in our favor. Never happened and to this day I can still count all the way up to 5 without much effort.
Usually there was one orange per person. The centerpiece of the Christmas table. I used to roll mine over my arms because I loved how they felt and smelled. And when I finally had eaten mine, I put the rind on top of the massive stone-oven and a smell would fill the air of the room that today has come to mean that the Season is upon me! That, and the darn Coca Cola song of wanting to buy the world a coat…
So what triggers your senses, what is an absolute must for you to feel Christmassy or just how much of a Grinch are you? Anything goes…share!
~Penguin Out!
ONE of the (many) things we love about our friends, is that they (sometimes) send us hilarious stuff via e-mail. In a sea of spam, it’s a genuine treat to find such flotsam and/or jetsam, especially when we’re at a loss for something to write. Not that that’s the case today, mind you, for we have Many Interesting Topics from which to plumb a good post. Still, we couldn’t help but chuckle when we saw the header REAL NEWSPAPER ADS, in a note we got from a lovely pal with a true passion for dogs (she has 3) as well as for silliness (something we’ve been accused of, ourselves) and we found it difficult NOT to share. Hopefully you’ll find the following listings as amusing as we did. If not, kindly keep your opinions to yourselves — we suffer under the delusion we know good humor when we see it (witness JEFF’S hilarious debut Snark post, yesterday) — no point bursting our laugh bubbles just because you wouldn’t know a good joke if it was served up on a hot plate with a side of fried potatoes, right?
REAL (really) NEWSPAPER ADS
FREE YORKSHIRE TERRIER:
8 years old. Hateful little dog. Bites.
FREE PUPPIES:
1/2 Cocker Spaniel, 1/2 sneaky neighbor’s dog.
FREE PUPPIES…
Mother, AKC German Shepherd
Father, Super Dog…able to leap tall fences in a single bound.
FOUND DIRTY WHITE DOG.
Looks like a rat… Been out a while.
Better be a reward.
COWS, CALVES: NEVER BRED.
Also 1 gay bull for sale.
Moving along to a few other “interesting” items…
NORDIC TRACK
$300 hardly used, call Chubby.
GEORGIA PEACHES
California grown — 89 cents lb.
JOINING NUDIST COLONY!
Must sell washer and dryer $300.
WEDDING DRESS FOR SALE.
WORN ONCE BY MISTAKE.
Call Stephanie.
And, finally…
FOR SALE BY OWNER:
Complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica
45 volumes, Excellent Condition
$1000 or best offer
No longer needed, Got Married last month
Wife knows everything.
OKAY, so maybe we’re the only ones who think these are funny. But guess what? We’re the only ones writing this post. So, you know, neener neener neener. If you don’t like it, feel free to take that damn platter of cold fries and… go sit at someone else’s blog. (sorry, we get testy when we’re hungry and/or making an effort to make you laugh)
~snuppy
Free to good home: Humor-blogs.com.
*Speaking of crummy ads and/or Humor-blogs.com (and we were) — be sure to check out CRUMMY(not)JOEL‘s crummy (SO not) book about Crummy Church Signs. There’s still time to pick up a copy (or 12) before the Holiday Rush depletes his supply and/or — despite the bargain price — renders he and his lovely wife so wealthy they move to Bermuda in order to live in a diamond house next door to Michael Douglas and his wife, Catherine Alpha-Beta-Zeta-Jones, Inc. Just sayin’… we got finally our own copies yesterday (yeah, he sent ours out last, and what’s up with that?), and were shocked surprised delighted to note the book is not just “good”, it’s really really good — maybe even brillaint. (what can we say, we loveloveloved it, and are reasonably certain you kids will, too)
Also, we’re of a mind to believe he’ll return to the Snark fold once the newness of publishing a book begins to wane. Of course, that’s what we thought would happen after DIESEL published his speclaughlar book, and you see how well that’s worked out.
LOOK who we found hiding behind that cloud hanging over our heads — you guessed it, our good and very tall friend, HARMONICA MAN. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so much a cloud over our heads as in our brains, but that’s beside the point. The point, which tried to rain on our thought parade, is this: after stressing over just how to follow BOBO‘s brilliant Fill-in Spin, we developed a world-class headache. Enter Jeff (aka Harmonica Man), a blogger we’ve been trying to get on the Snark team for quite some time. Finally, after much whining and/or offers to put his kids through college (assuming we can do that for about $3.50), he caved agreed to help us out. Yay for Jeff. And yay for you, too, ‘cuz this guy’s not only tall enough to view the world from behind a cloud, he’s also flat out funny. ~snuppy
PS: Leaving happy comments may help convince young Jeff to come back again, sometime soon. Otherwise we might resort to trolling on Humor-blogs.com for help the next time our brain clouds up.
****** ******** ******
True story…
So there I was sound asleep at 1:00 in the morning last Sunday when suddenly I felt something land on my chest. Startled awake, I sat straight up in my bed only to see a mouse running across my blankets and down over the side. Needless to say I was FREAKED!
Or so I thought.
Needed to say was that I was only dreaming that a mouse had landed on my chest, which caused me to sit up and think I was seeing it skitter away. But to me it was all too real and just about gave me a heart attack.
Eventually I calmed down and went back to sleep. But only until 4:00 when I dreamed once again that mice were dropping through a hole in my ceiling and filling up a box that was suspended over my bed. BUT – since the box had gotten full, the damn thing was overflowing with mice which were spilling out and falling on me while I slept. Nice.
Ok, before you call the “special police”, I’m pretty sure I have an explanation for these recurring nightmares…
…THIS!
That’s right. Billed as the “most humane” way to catch mice, this live trap allows several mice to be captured at once. Which is true. Because I used it. And it works.
You see a few weeks ago we found evidence of mice running around in our garage and decided they needed to be “relocated.” We chose this live trap because it seemed like the perfect solution. You simply gather them up in this nice little box, take them out to the woods and let them go. No more spring traps full of mice with broken necks and brains coming out of their mouths (which I’ve seen unfortunately).
Sure enough I wound up the neat live trap and put it on my workbench and the next morning there he was, one cute little mouse standing on his back legs and looking out of the plastic window. “Bingo! This thing works great!” I thought. But still I wanted to get a few more before I took the time to convert our city mice into country mice.
And then… the next morning we had another one! I was thrilled. At this rate we would have the whole McMouse family in a few days. And so I let it sit another night.
But the next morning something went horribly wrong. One of the mice had died overnight (or had been murdered) and the other one was on top of him and gnawing on his back. It was disgusting and I couldn’t bear to look at it for more than a second, so I just left him there to deal with later – except that “later” just happened to end up being about a week, at which point the only thing left in the box was one dead cannibal rodent from Hell and another dried up mouse-pelt rug. Oh yeah, this trap was a GREAT idea.
Needless to say, I won’t be quite so compassionate next time. After this it’s mouse brains all the way. Go ahead, call PETA – I don’t give a shit. This guy needs to get some sleep!
~Jeff (aka Harmonica Man)
Mickey Mouse left a juicy “surprise” for Jeff at Humor-blogs.com.
Filed under: music music
WE thought it might be nice to give our beloved DJ LAMPSHA another week off from doing one of her Legendary Saturday Spins, if only to have an extra moment or two to herself, in order to recover from a difficult couple of weeks. Ah, but what to do in her stead? Indeed, that was the question. Thank goodness we knew the answer, which came to us in the form of a certain someone with a true gift for scoping out great new artists (he may not be in the same league as Lampsha, but trust us, this person’s ear is still better than most). And so, without further adieu, we are pleased to provide a Bit o’ Saturday Spinnin’, courtesy of THE BOBO:
**** ***** ****
Happy Saturday one and all. It is truly an honor to, once again, be sub-spinning for the one, the only DJ Lampsha. This week’s spin features a couple of indie music acts that are not yet household names. They are just two of the many “new” faces of music that have taken full advantage of the internet, specifically sites like MySpace, to get their music to the public without the benefit of a major record label.
The first group hails from Boston, Mass and combines funk, rock, hip-hop, jazz, and R&B – yep, they’ve covered just about all the bases – to create a very original sound not easily categorized. They’re called Eclectic Collective and the video below comes to us courtesy ThePalestra.com and features a song called “Ocean of Tears“, filmed in front of the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio. To see the video, just click on the pic.
I would encourage you to venture on over to their MySpace page and check out the song “Beautiful Mess,” my personal fav.
Today’s second act is living proof that all that comes out of Nashville is not by way of the Grand Ole Opry. These guys call themselves AutoVaughn, and their music has been described by some as a cross between Tears For Fears and The Killers. The video is, once again, courtesy of ThePalestra.com and features a song called “Rock Your Body“. Don’t be thrown by the short intro that includes a scruffy looking lad on what appears to be a hotel or apartment balcony. Ladies and gentlemen… AutoVaughn (again, just click on the pic below).
If you’re so inclined, venture over to the band’s MySpace page for more of their music and an entertaining video of what life on the road is like for a group of young musicians trying to make it the hard way. It’s proof positive that the life of a budding rock star is less about glamor & groupies… and more about driving a van and late nights at McDonalds.
Enjoy! Have a great weekend. ~BoBo
Listen to the music of laughter on Humor-blogs.com.
Filed under: funny...
WHEN we’re feeling especially blue, pathetic, and/or unlovable (like today, after gorging ourselves with all the trappings of an especially tasty Thanksgiving feast), we look around for a few good reasons to smile. Sometimes we do that by watching a totally stupid-yet-absurd program on TV (“CSI: Miami” works well for this purpose). Sometimes we make faces at ourselves in the mirror and think “yeah, we probably could pull off that Marlena Dietrich faux face lift” (tho’ we’re guessing Botox would be easier than pulling up all our “excess” skin then tacking it onto the top of our head with hat pins). Sometimes we amuse ourselves by telling our son he has to do his own damn laundry, which has been piling up in the corner of his room for the past 3 months (the smell alone is enough to keep us out of there in the first place). And sometimes, we find we can make do by simply basking in the glow of our HUMOR-BLOGS.COM rating, which, at the moment, is 37. That may not sound like much to you kids, but, aside from the six eight nine blogs currently ranked higher than us, all we can say is: neener neener neener (as opposed to the nyuk nyuk nyuk we just heard from the blogs who managed to knock us down 2 3 more notches…).
Not to be confused with HUMMER-BLOGS, something we made the mistake of doing last week. We won’t go into details here, but suffice to say it was NOT a blog dedicated to Arnold Schwarzenegger’s favorite mode of transportation. Not that there’s anything wrong with that (the over-sized/over-priced vehicle and/or the overly-anticipated by every guy we know activity). Some of you might be tempted to explore the contents of HAMMER-BLOGS, but be warned, it’s not very interesting. That is, unless you find tales of pounding nails, an obscure 80’s funk star in baggy pants, and/or tossing back a few cold ones “interesting”. And don’t get us started on the crushing disappointment we felt after perusing the pages of HUMOR-BAGS dot com. Rubberized farts are SO last century.
Where funny blogs go to get read and/or where our blog goes to bask in the fleeting glow of slipped ratings. (okay, so maybe we need to work on the actual “humor” part of our postings, but still, we don’t care what you losers say, “37” rocks.)
OH YEAH — as long as we’re bragging (and goodness knows we are) please-oh-please-oh-PLEASE vote for us in this week’s CAPTION CONTEST. We’re not proud of ripping off an Uncle Miltie anecdote, but from what we’ve heard and/or know, the man known as King Cock of Hollywood Mr. Television had a sizable (heh) stash of quips to spare — so we’re fairly confident he wouldn’t mind in the least. The fact that the “contest” is over is beside the point, by the way. The point, which was hiding under the last slice of pumpkin pie, is that we’re looking for attention, validation, and/or a little bloggy “love”.
~snuppy
PS: HUMOR-DOGS is moderately funny, but only if you don’t mind a bunch of jokes about chasing squirrels, cheating your dog-buddies at poker, and/or trying to seduce a fetching Poodle (although now that we look again, that picture is humor-blogs-worthy and/or puppilarious).
In case you couldn’t tell, this post-Thanksgivng Day post was brought to you by a post-Thanksgiving stupor, on behalf of HUMOR-BLOGS.COM.
WHAT’S THIS? You guessed it — this, dear friends, is a Thanksgiving Bonus Post featuring a little something our NBFF tossed into the Snark last year. Okay, fine, it’s another re-run, but so what? We thought it was great nostalgic fun then, and it’s every bit as grand this time around. Thanks again for the Thanksgiving trip down memory lane, LAMPSHA. Here’s hoping your own Thanksgiving is filled with many happy memories and plenty of good food. ~snuppy
*** *** *** *** ***
You know growing up in the New York City area all of my life (albeit in the armpit of New Jersey for the formative years), there is a Thanksgiving Tradition near and dear to us in the NYC radio market. So it just dawned on me at 5:08 am, that this is something worth sharing with my dear friends here. Perhaps a few who stop through may even have shared this tradition.
Every Thanksgiving as far back as I paid attention to these things, the radio station that was the classic of all classics in The Day, WNEW 102.7, played ARLO GUTHRIE’S, Alice’s Restaurant at 12 noon. And every Thanksgiving, wherever we were driving or sitting, we turned on the radio and listened. Idn’t that quaint? Anyway, the intervening years have not been kind to commercial radio and I have emmigrated to non-commercial turf where lo and behold, my station plays Alice’s Restaurant every Thanksgiving.
I suppose my appreciation for Arlo started long before I listened to him as I am (did I tell you this one already) the 7th of 10 children. I was thus influenced by my elders of the tribe, who protested Vietnam and listened to Arlo Guthrie (well that’s not all they did or listened to, but for the purpose of this discussion at 5:00 am…). So I proudly pass this tradition on to my youngfolk tribes people and share it here with you today. You may either scratch your head or laugh and sing along, but I hope you will at least listen a bit before you decide to go baste the bird for the umpteenth time.
By all means, please continue to watch the video below so that you know how to properly behave at your family’s table today. Or at least understand why people drank socially (heavily) and took a lot of pills quietly during the 50’s.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!
~DJ Lampsha
You can get all the laughs you want, on Humor-blogs.com.
DO Thanksgiving leftovers taste as good the next year as they do next day? They do? Well then, whew — imagine our relief, as we prepare to serve up a tasty concoction simmered here in the Snark last November. (has it really been a year?) Yeah, we are lazy like that. That said, this post was beyond hilarious to us last Thanksgiving, and seems even funnier this time around — no doubt because it was a “joint” effort by 2 bloggers who are currently in sore need of A) a break B) a few good laughs and/or C) a refresher course in the “proper” way to handle a family gathering. Whatever the case for our own giggles, we’re still in hope that you, too, will enjoy our humble leftovers. ~Snuppy & Lampsha
Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city. ~George Burns
DESPITE widespread belief that Thanksgiving is the consummate “family bonding” holiday, our own experiences tell us the opposite is also true. Then again, it’s possible our own “experiences” have been tainted by our lack in all skills necessary to properly enjoy and/or conduct ourselves at the family dinner table. Damn our lack in skills! If only we’d had someone over the years to help guide us through the nuances of family dining etiquette, things might have turned out so different. Alas, we did not. You, on the other hand, do.
YES, dear friends, in order to prevent you from falling into the same awkward Thanksgiving “experience” abyss we did, and/or to maximize everyone’s “holiday family bonding time”, we proudly present “A Date With Your Family” – a refresher course in manners, if you will. We think you’ll find it as useful as it is informative, and hopefully more than a little entertaining, since this particular video is served up with its own tasty running commentary.*
NOW, this is a family that really knows how to behave. Unfortunately, this is also a family that doesn’t exist anymore, as we hearken back to the halcyon days of the 50’s. It’s a good bet the folks in the following video eventually wound up in therapy, then crashed and burned within the following decade. Still, we’re convinced they were polite to each right up to the bitter bitter end.
HEY, we like our family as a friend, too. Which means we’ll be willing to sit down and fake a few moments of graciousness and ceremony with them, as long as they’ll be willing to help with the dishes. That way we can all look back with Much Happiness, ensuring our Family Dinner will be something to remember All Our Days and/or until the next time that pervert bastard Uncle Dick tries to pinch us on the ass.
*à la MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER – 3000.
~A Lampsha/Snuppy Joint Production
May we ple-e-e-e-ease read Humor-blogs.com after we eat?
Filed under: Teh Penguin
“Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins?…So with sanity and insanity.” Herman Melville, Billy Budd
“Margret Mary Ray believed with all her heart that late-night talk-show host David Lettermn was in love with her. Caught up in this delusion, she stalked Letterman day and night for a decade, writing him letters and repeatedly breaking into his house. She camped out on his tennis court and once stole his car. The tabloids treated her delusions as a running joke. Finally, she gave up. She wrote to her mother, “I’m all traveled out,” and put herself in front of a coal train. She was killed instantly.”
You don’t have to be a psychologist to know that something was seriously wrong with her. Why am I telling you this? Well, of late our family has been devided by an issue that keeps evolving and growing more passionate as we go on.
We are talking about drug addicts. Seriously lying, manipulating and stealing shells of a person we once knew as an active member of our family. We got such a ghost in our family and the tendency to deal with that ghost reach from full fledged support, to simple ignoring all the way to utter rejection.
I think our different approaches lie in the fact that some of us think that “being an addict” is a life style choice. That there once was a decission made to engage in it and upon enjoying the rush, it became the very thing life should circle around. Children, family and job became the second or second to last place in one’s list of importance, following after self-indulgence.
Others in our family think that “being an addict” involves genetic pre-disposition. The fact that trying it once (which I did and which left me rather un-impressed) can seriously be the start for some on a road they are unable to return from. Once caught in the vicious circle, they become unable to control it, it takes them over and therefore we should treat them as patients. Sick people, mentally ill.
Nothing has been proven and I usually let these things slide by me, but the other day I thought somebody kicked a little too close and I went beserk. Putting drug addicts and cancer patients in the same field, I was lost for words until an argument ensured that involved actively smoking, causing lung cancer or such likes. Where is the difference between that and a drug addict? Both are aware of the consequences of their actions, both can have fatal results…yet society treats one case more normal and are ready to assist with every means possible, where the other is deemed a loser.
At the moment my head is spinning in many directions. Concerning the ghost in our family, I think that there comes a point in time (in this case 14 years) when the mircocosm should stop revolving around them. How long are you supposed to give, understand and set yourself up for guaranteed dissapointment? We only got one life, it is precious…I refuse to waste it on people who bring nothing to my life and leave in their wake anger, hurt and a torn family.
~ Penguin out!
What is your gut feeling in reaction to this…where should we draw the line between the two tints of a color in the rainbow? Share in the comment section!
Central Snark 