Monday, January 31, 2011

my life is an olive garden commercial

Is it just me, or does it look like living in an Olive Garden commercial would be the best life ever?

You decide:

Look how much fun they're having. Everything is awesome.

Wonder what they're gonna do when they get smashed in the face with a ton of bricks called reality and finally realize that life is a crapshoot, but it's mostly just crap, and they're unavoidably hurdling toward entropy.

Anyway, there's something about Olive Garden that I just can't hate. Yeah, the food is essentially fancy, microwaved TV dinners, but if someone can look you in the eye and tell you that their food doesn't taste good, you know they're a self-loathing, fun-hating, worthless liar.

Maybe it's not the most original, most creative, most authentic, or most healthy, but their food IS tasty. Mass produced, over-cheesed, over-creamied, over-salted, over-riched, over everything? Yeah, but NOMNOMNOM.

What about this hilarious commercial, with undertones of child molestation:

Favorite uncle? More like Uncle Creeper lurkin' his little nephew.

Breadstick? Hey, I know what a euphemism is; I know what double entrentre means - you can't fool me that easily, Olive Garden marketing execs!

That little kid got so excited that he got two (2) breadstick boners for both his gay uncles! That's fucked up!

Check out this next one: father works late, leaving mother and son to fend for themselves. Mother and son go on a date. Mother and son go to Olive Garden. Mother and son flirt over dinner and a couple glasses of wine. I've seen plenty of porn based on that premise.

And it ends well for everybody!

But still, that was really weird.

Seems that this one is on all the time. Literally, every 5 minutes - commercial break, "girls night out" Olive Garden commercial.

I love at the end, the Grandma rubbing the granddaughter's arm like that lol. I'm pretty sure they're not related, and that every time the youngest one's REAL GRANDMOTHER sees it, she's all, "WHO THE FUCK IS THAT OLD BITCH RUBBIN' ON MY GRANDDAUGHTER? I'LL KILL THAT SLUT".

And what about that narrator's voice. What a little ratboy. I see punks like that at the gym every day. Short workout shorts, Nike Shox, Under Armour breathable shirts, and twig-arms. Walkin' around like a little ratboy potato, YOU ABOUT TO GET MASHED

I guess Olive Garden food is a great metaphor for your life: take away the rich, creamy awesome, and you're left with a bunch of shit.

Friday, January 28, 2011

fitness truths

Hey hey it's almost the weekend. And I don't know about you, but my favorite way to jump into weekend-mode on Friday evening is to NOT go to the gym. Used to be, I loved going to the gym on Friday night: it was dead, and I could have a great workout before getting LOADED AND RIPPED FOR THE NEXT 48 HOURS STRAIGHT.

Unfortunately, now my gym is kind of a hike, and the commute is a real bitch at rush hour. So I work out Saturday instead.

Long story short, I really enjoy working out and exercising, so I'm going to share three fitness truths with you.

These will be three truths that are indisputable, irrefutable, and 100% correct. And totally true and awesome.

Fitness Truth One: if you can't do one pull up, you're a fitness failure. Go ahead, try to do one. Can you? No? Well you're a penis and your parents hate you. And worse, my parents hate you. Now I can't take credit for this truth, but you know who can? My brother. While he didn't necessarily invent this fitness truth, he didn't necessarily not invent it.

So we're gonna go ahead and give credit where credit's due.

Fitness Truth Two: if you can't run one point five miles in four minutes, don't even bother. Yeah, this one's noticeably tougher than the previous truth, but an essential hallmark of exercise and fitness is constantly increasing the intensity and difficulty of your workouts. What kind of a fitness guru would I be if I didn't preach the truths? I learned this one from my dad. Back when my brother and I were like five and six, I remember my dad always going out running.

And being five or six, my brother and I wanted to do whatever my dad did, so naturally we wanted to go running with him. Of course he said we were too young, and there was no way we could run one point five miles in four minutes, like he did. That, and he always told us that we were little butt-bopping pussies.

Please note that while my brother and I wanted to do many things that my dad did, procreating with our mother is something we did NOT ever want to do, even though my dad did it twice.

Fitness Truth Three: I almost had a meltdown in the gym the other day. True story, I heard a certain song that triggered an angry memory, and I almost frickin' lost it.

This song:

But what's so anger-inducing about that nice little poppy tune? Well nothing, except it's on the Tiger Woods 2004 video game soundtrack, and that song was always on when I'd play the game.

It's like, that song came on, and instantly, memories of smashing many Playstation 2 controllers came rushing back. That game, and Madden 04 contributed to about 4 broken controllers, hours of insane RAGE, and a (then) $300 video game console almost getting destroyed.

Stay fit, friends. Well, not on the weekends, cause Friday @ 5:00AM EST through Sunday @ 11:59AM EST is reserved for DESTROYING YOUR BODY.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


The Packers are going to the Super Bowl! (PUMP!) Being on like a 37 game win streak right now, they're definitely the hottest team in the league. Puttin' the hammer down on the Falcons, beating the Bears, and in two weeks, playing the Steelers.

Should be a good game.

Arguably the NFL's greatest rivalry, Packers vs Bears, made for a great NFC Championship this past Sunday. Both teams carry on the rivalry with class, well, as much class as a football team can have.

Unfortunately, the Packers are playing the Steelers, one of the most classless, dirtiest teams in the league. When they're not taking cheap shots, punching the other team, or rapin' chicks, they find time to play football.

Bummer, cause they do play it well.

Led by Hines Ward and James Harrison, you'd be hard pressed to differentiate this team from a group of jail-yard thugs...which is kind of funny, considering they got rid of their best receiver due to him chronically smokin' the...chronic. And throwin' down a little domestic violence. At least he didn't get Chris Henry'd lol.

Cheap shot after cheap shot, often times from behind, Hines Ward gets a little taste of what he gives. Well, except this hit was legal. And then he kicks the defensive player. Kicks him, lol. This is a 35 year old "man", here.

Watch as Hines Ward classes it up on the field. PUMP!

C'mon, if you make the New York Jets look dignified, that's messed up.

Speaking of the New York Jets looking dignified, here's a New York Jet. Not looking dignified. And by not looking dignified, I mean wiping a booger on his bro's jacket.

Here, get PUMPED UP as Rapelisburger does what he does best:

Homeboy just loves those fake boobies!

Anyway, the Super Bowl is in like a week and a half, and if it's anywhere near as boring as last year, I might be in bed by 9pm. But I'll still be SO PUMPED TO GET LOADED, DRINK BLOODY MARYZ, EAT SHITLOADS OF BUFFALO WINGS (THANKS FOR THE AWESOME BUFFALO SAUCE, MOM!), AND ORDER JET'S PIZZA.

Speaking of football though, most of you have probably already seen it, but I ROFL'd.

Get PUMPED as Favre starts acting up again lol.

In totally un-football related news, it blizzarded out the other day and I saw some little kid totally wipe out on the sidewalk lol.


Monday, January 24, 2011


Found this unfinished post, from months back, lurking in my unpublished blog archives. So I finished it up, added a little colour commentary, and we're good.

The other day I was washing my hair, and I realized something: why am I not conditioning my hair too?

I mean, I've experimented with conditioner before, and it's generally been a truly blessed experience. My hair just gets so silky smooth. But it's a pain in the ass - it's like you have to wash your hair twice. And that sucks.

This is my current shampoo sitchu right here:


When I think of fortifying, I think of fortresses. And castles. I think of war, tanks, battering rams, and men manning the ramparts. I don't see any of that shit going on here. Do you?

This is shampoo we're talking about, not the Dark Ages.

Anyway, still wanting to be able to condition my hair, but not wanting to have to repeat the lathering and rinsing, I set out on a mission. Heckyeahwoman has long, nice hair, and it always smells good. So I asked her what I should do. She suggested a shampoo and conditioner combo pack.

Heck yeah she did, man.

To the Winn I go.

Literally within seconds we found a winner:

Hellooooo hydration!

But the thing is, I never really got a chance to enjoy this new shampoo-conditioner combo deal.

Yeah, I brought it home, had it sitting on the counter, Heckyeahwoman must have thought it was for her, and it disappeared into the clean abyss that was her bathroom. Turns out, I had a different shampoo chilling in my bathroom, that I just grabbed instead, totally forgetting about my desire for a conditioning shampoo.

Life goes on, friends.

Friday, January 21, 2011

weirdo in the parking lot

I hate to have to preface this with "true story", but some of the things that happen to me are so ridiculous that I often wonder if similar things happen to other people too.

OK, so yesterday after work it was snowing. I don't think anybody is going to refute me on that fact. Yeah, you can argue the snow vs. slush angle, but really, it doesn't matter. Bottom line: it was precipitatin', and so were my pits, bro. So there was a fair amount of snow accumulating on the cars in the lot, and I noticed some jackass PRIUS-DRIVIN-DOUCHEBAG walking out to his car.

Now his car's windows were covered in snow, and there's no way he could see out of them, or drive safely. Normally I'd encourage reckless driving, especially for environmentally aware turds like him, but I knew I'd be driving in the same vicinity as him, at least for a little while - we were both leaving.

But did the fact that his windows needed a good snowbrushing deter him from giving his snowcovered car a quick eyeball, a "nah, it'll be fine"-head shake, and hoppin' right into his car and startin' it up? Nah, not in the least.

Dude put all his faith in the windshield wipers as he crept to the parking lot exit. Sure as shit, by the time I'm done completely brushing off my car, there he is - parked in the exit lane, blocking it, brushing off his own car.

After honking my horn relentlessly, shaking my fist out the window in an angry manner, and opening my moon roof (fuck yeah I have a moon roof) so I could slowly raise my middle finger through the opening towards the sky, making sweet sound effects as my arm raised itself to glory, he finally finished up, waved an apologetic "Yes I know I drive a Prius, but my wife really wanted me to get one"-wave, and went on his merry way.

BTW, because dude was such a PRIUS DRIVING COCKPIT, on the way home from the gym, I stopped at the hardware store, bought a bottle of WD-40, and sprayed it all over a couple plants in the park. Fuck you, environment.

Oh ya, and I was WATCHING THE TV at the gym the other day, and saw some segment with some broad on CNN cryin' about something. It was CNN so it was probably something dumb.

Turns out it was this:

Four minutes and forty three seconds of nonstop lols at her expense. Best kinda lols.

For example, holy lol @ 1:01 when she's going on about how hopefully nobody saw her, then the host chimes in, "but meanwhile the whole world was watching this on youtube". OWNED!

And good gravy, that dumb bitch is talking about suing. I should sue her just for being so goddamn ugly. I should sue her because I didn't feel like getting up early to go to work this morning. I should sue her because I'm going to want to order Jimmy John's for lunch, but will probably pack my own lunch. I should sue her because I had a very unsatisfying dump not just yesterday morning, but also yesterday evening. I should sue her because I got sweaty as fuck at the gym last night. I should sue her because if the Packers don't win on Sunday, I'll be having a meltdown (not entirely true). I should sue her because as you're reading this, I'll probably be thinking about motoRBOATIN' OH YEAH BOOBS IN MY FACE WHAT

Wednesday, January 19, 2011


Dude I don't even know where to begin with this today. Yo, this series of GUARANTEED PICKMEUP PUMPS comes from my little Greek friend from work. I hate him so much, but yo, he know how to get a fella PUMPED.

First PUMP comes from watching kids do dumb things. I LOVE WHEN KIDS DO DUMB THINGS!


OK haha, you forgot the blueberries, but where's the inspiration at?

What about watching an NFL football player catch the ball, break his leg (BREAK HIS FUCKIN' LEG, DOO), and gimp some 80 odd yards into the end zone?

This is the essence of HUMP DAY PUMP UP right here.

And what better way to watch a video and get PUMPED, than with sweet commentary? GET PUMPED:


Dawg, he put da team on his back, doo.


Get ready for your head to explode, cause we got another PACKER HOLDIN' IT DOWN, VIDEO GAME STYLE. LOOK AT HIS INSANE RUN.

And stick around for the replay + commentary. You won't be mad.


Monday, January 17, 2011

weekend wrap-up

Had a busy little weekend.

It was nice, I managed to get pretty loaded both nights. Unfortunately, the first night was at a dinner Heckyeahwoman's bosses' place. Ridiculous house, sweet Porsche chilling in the driveway, nice Benz hanging out in the garage.

Started out pretty tame, rubbing elbows with intellectuals, academics, and dudes with British accents. Before long, it turned into the older folks sitting down for tea & crumpets in the living room, and the younger folks gathering in the kitchen around a fridge full of beer, a partially full 1.75 of whiskey, and roughly 3 half bottles of scotch.

Was it good scotch? How the hell should I know.

Did it taste fine and get me drunk? Oh yeah.

After everybody was good'n wasted, a conversation about proper grammar broke out. Being surrounded by PhDs, I knew I was in good company, at least in terms of grammar mastery. Ok and a little bit of pretentiousness. But before we could come to any definitive conclusions, the dude with the British accent drops some knowledge.

We all just stood there, stunned.

Being that I was widely known as "Heckyeahwoman's non-PhD, yet awesome husband", they were quite surprised to learn that I am indeed an accomplished writer. Surprise surprise! Here here!

It was funny, probably around 9:30 I got a call on my cell from an "unavailable" number. Not thinking much about it, I put it to voicemail. Listened to the vm on Saturday, and it turned out to be a prospect calling me back! Glad I didn't answer, I was TORE UP lol.

Woke up Saturday morning with a light hangover, ran to Target and bought inflatable toboggans to go sledding! And about $200 worth of OTHER SHIT GODDAMNIT.

Uh, then we went sledding! It was awesome, I probably mowed down 10 kids on just three runs. Some little kid, must've been like 5, was having trouble carrying his over-sized, heavy, wooden sled up the hill. Noticing this, and being the good guy that I am, I went over to give the little guy a hand. But instead of carrying his sled up the hill for him, I raised it up over my head and chucked that stupid sled all the way down to the bottom of the hill.

Lol at it breaking into three pieces.

Finally, a couple of the dads chased me off the hill.

What a bunch of weirdos, like they've never seen a 29 year old dude sledding with a crowbar.

Then it was time for FOOTBALL. Watched the Ravens - Steelers shitshow, and got really PUMPED for the Packers - Falcons matchup. Like a boss, we headed to the bar to watch on huge, fancy HD TVs. After 3 hours of VIP bottle service, valet parking, and generally just being awesome and loaded, we headed back home, drunk as fuck.

Capped the night with some white russians, and a sick couple games of SkippBo.

Woke up Sunday morning with a brutal hangover, but went to the gym anyway. Unfortunately there was some crazy older dude walking around the locker room completely naked. I've never seen someone that old, that tan.

Not sure what his deal was, but it took me about 2 minutes to get my gear ready, and lock my jacket in the locker, cause he must have walked from his locker to the sink - completely naked - at least three times.

Part of me is trying to wrap my head around why he wouldn't put on a towel or something, and the other part of me is just trying to heal my scorched retinas.

Right now, it's Sunday afternoon, just cracked a cold one (, dawg), and the Pats -Jets game is about to start.

Friday, January 14, 2011

college is sweet

Peep this, peeps, lettuce talk about college for a minute: Georgia has some sort of statewide program where if you get like a B average in high school, you get most of your college paid for. I won't bore you with the specifics and deets, but if you're not a TOTAL FUCKING RETARD, you can have your college degree paid for.

Shoot yeah.


Just read an article online covering the story. And yes, I see that it's from the New York Times, and yes, I know they are a horrible piece of shit newspaper, but still, the article provides some great blogworthiness.

Due to the economy, Georgia is finding that it can't afford the program.

Let me know what's wrong with this picture:

Cathy Ottley, a part-time office manager, and her husband, a management consultant, are raising three children in Marietta, north of Atlanta. One is a sophomore at the University of Georgia, courtesy of the Hope scholarship. A daughter who is a high school senior had her heart set on the University of North Carolina but has come to see an in-state college as the practical way to go. And then there is the youngest, a high school freshman with a promising future in athletics. Without the scholarship, Ms. Ottley said, college for her children would be a stretch at best.

Wait a second, she had her "heart set on UNC"? Let's assume that they were entertaining the idea of sending the daughter there, entertaining the idea of paying insane out of state tuition, that in many cases is double the costs of in-state tuition.

I had my "heart set on Harvard, Yale, or Stanford", but due to my lack of funds and shitty grades, I went to a UW school. And even if I would have gone to Harvard, Yale, or Stanford, I probably would have still wound up in sales. Shit.

We'll also assume that the parents could presumably afford to send the daughter to UNC, but in a rare bout of sanity, decided it made finanshul sense to attend an in-state college. We'll also assume that the husband is banging his secretary, cause lol haha.

Bitch havin' her heart set on UNC, she think she's fuggin Michael Jordan 'r somethin? Get outta here.

And then there's the daughter with a promising future in athletics. Yo, if your future is so promising, get an athletic scholarship, ho. Or pay for college yourself, like I did. True story, I got a job the summer before my junior year, saved tons of money, and paid for college as a freshman she still has plenty of time. And I worked the entire time when I was selected an All-American quarterback for my football team.

Last sentence is totally made up.

Basically the parent is saying, "we could probably afford to send our elder daughter to OUT OF STATE COLLEGE, but sorry youngest daughter, we're not dropping a cent for in-state tuition for your sorry ass, cause we finna retire comfortably lol".

Lolol hosejob.

Lol, and the first page mentions "hopemobiles" - cars that are gifts to college freshman from their parents, purchased with the money they saved from not having to pay for college tuition. Check this out:

Lauren Rice drives a Hopemobile (though, she concedes, it is only a Honda Civic). Her parents told her she could go to college anywhere. She was considering Auburn in Alabama. But her parents offered her what she called “the car incentive.” That, plus the daunting out-of-state tuition helped her select the University of Georgia.

Yeah, my parents told me that I could go to college anywhere too. Anywhere I could afford. So I went to the "Harvard of Northwestern Wisconsin".

But for real, if my parents told me I could go to college anywhere, on their dime, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be anywhere near the state of Alabama. Yeah, even if I lived in Georgia. In fact, I'd probably rather go to college somewhere in North or South Dakota instead of Alabama. The Dakotas do have colleges, right? I know they got electricity 10 years ago, wasn't sure how much farther behind institutions of higher education would be.

What's the takeaway here?

I'm not entirely sure. Anyone?

Wednesday, January 12, 2011


How badass does that sound? The reckoning. No, THE RECKONING.

FUCK YEAH. I get PUMPED UP just saying that.

Go ahead, say it to somebody you care about, somebody that means a lot to you:



Say it with conviction to your mom, and feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Yeah, you just told her.

Have some respect, asshole.

Anyway, just a little something that I think sounds a little badass, and in this world of crybaby liberal pussies blaming everything and everybody else, a little badass is just what we need.

But hey, don't let the incessant whining of a few slow you down.


Terror is so awesome. I've seen them live a million times, and every time, it's the best time ever. One time, I went to see them, but I was wearing the singer's previous band's shirt (on purpose, bros). Saw the singer at the bar, went and stood right next to him, ordered a beer, and nothing.


Maybe he didn't notice. Maybe he was flyin' high on PCP (fuck yeah bonus PUMP). Maybe he was just thinkin' about after the show, how he'd inevitably be elbow deep in scene gash. Who knows, who cares.

I know I was thinking about being elbow deep in "fuck yeah this show is awesome, but when the fuck's it gonna end? How many goddamn local bands can they cram into the lineup? Damn, I gotta work tomorrow morning".

Awesome show. I jumped up to grab a piece of the mic and landed pretty much on some little scene twerp. STATUS: MASHED.

Lol @ some dude, pushing 30, climbing over some little shit that's close to half his age, just to sing along lol.

I haven't had a chance to see Terror tour for this album (came out in 08). Main reason being I've more valued getting a good night sleep than going to another hardcore show - getting loaded, driving home, getting kinda sweaty, and it's so much cooler to put the record on and spinkick around the living room, scaring the shit out of the cats, while your wife rethinks her marriage.

See, being married is awesome! HOT WIFE AWESOME LIFE PUMP.

Awesome song, horrible video

No but on the real, it was blizzarding out like crazy yesterday. Started at about 1pm, and we have these monster ass windows in our office, overlooking the parking lot.

Pretty much the entire afternoon I didn't do anything except watch the snow fall. It was awesome.

Apparently not a whole lot about today's HDPU had much to do with "reckoning". That's on me. But being an UNPUMPED TURDFRIEND, that's on you.

Step out of your comfort zone, pinch a coworker's ass, GET PUMPED UP.

Monday, January 10, 2011

beware the salt

Forgot about this little gem from the holidays.

So we were doin' some gift opening with Heckyeahwoman's family, and it was great. They always host a really nice holiday. Her family has been really awesome, and they were pretty cool about it when I accidentally shot her (now deceased) brother last Thanksgiving. Condolences again.

So midway through the gift extravaganza, and I don't even remember who gave the gift, or who received it, but there was an exotic salt and spice gift set unearthed frumunda the tree (like the cheese). It really did look awesome and tasty.

After showing us how awesome the different exotic salts were, Heckyeahsisterinlaw explained a little bit about each one. That was good for me, cause I don't know shit about salt, other than "it makes things taste good".

Then I think it was the Himalayan Pink Salt, she said that you have to be careful, because it's not always fair trade/child labor/organic/bullshit.

And what happened next totally blew my mind.

Her last sentence was, "So you have to do your research before you buy".

Holy lol, doing research on salt? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I don't give a fuck where my salt comes from, as long as it's salty.

I do research before I buy a car, a house, an mp3 player, a cell phone, but NOT a jar of fucking salt. I don't give a shit if it comes from the ground up umbilical cordz of aborted kittens. If it tastes good, I'm putting it in my mouth.

Read that again: if it tastes good, I'm putting it in my mouth.

And you can take those words to the bank.

Friday, January 7, 2011

post-gym shower ruh roh

Oh man that was quite a work out the other day. Holy crap I was sweaty & soaking wet, bros. Soaking wet bros. Yeah, no comma - think about it.

Anyway, after HULKING OUT from chugging a protein shake, I had to get in the shower right quick. Lemme git in that shower, dawg. But yo, somebody in there right now, and I think I know who it is.

Fortunately (showatime, shawty awwww yeah) & unfortunately (I gotta POOOOOP and shower), it was my wife. So I'm bangin' on the door and hollerin' about a possible bowel leak in aisle three, and finally she finishes up. As she exits, I rush into the bathroom, try to catch a peek at some boobie, and make my peace with the porcelain turlet gods.

That wasn't even the ruh-roh part; nah, check this out.

After finishing the dump without incident, I grab my towel and throw it onto the shower rod. But as I'm making the transfer from the towel rack to the shower rod, the towel brushed against my naughty bits.

My stinky, sweaty, gross naughty bits. Now keep in mind, "bits" isn't the best descriptor of my area, it's just that I heard my brother say it one time, and thought it was funny. Nothin' scarea than my area.

So there I am, standing there naked, trying to take in the levity of the situation. My towel, the towel that I'll be using to dry off in about eight minutes just swabbed my sweaty junk. Gross.

There is a high likelihood that that particular part of the towel would be the very part I would be using to dry my face off. And indeed it was.

Words can't describe the grimace on my face, shame and anger in my heart, as the used, soiled towel scrubbed across my moneymaker.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


Wow, first HUMP DAY PUMP UP of 2011, and it falls on my Brother's birthday (OMG!). It's important we set the PUMP TONE right, so we've got some of HIS (obama-like deification of my Brother, 'cept my Brother actually is AWESOME, PUMP!) favorite PUMPY topics covered here: kids getting hurt, awesome songs, and me rapping about things.

I just had like practically two weeks off (FUGGIN HUGE PUMP), and now I'm back at work, ready to get back into the grind.

Speaking of the grind, hey look, here's a vid of me grindin'!

(I'm the black dude rapping about money and/or drugs)

That song dope, but it's a bit too chilled out for us to get fully PUMPED. Hey, it's good for a solid PUMP FOUNDATION from which to properly build the PUMP.


Shit yeah we love seeing kids get hurt. I know I'm rock hard every time that little shit gets bit by that big ass green lizard at the end there.

This next vid is kinda sad - it's some de-fanged Cobra trying to bite some little stupid baby. Oh how I wish he wasn't de-fanged, not just because de-fanging a snake is FUCKING RETARDED, but so that little shit gets KING COBRA'D TO THE FACE LIKE WHAT

Shit yeah, the Packers made the playoffs, play the Eagles, and hopefully Michael Vick gets hit by a semi. CLAY MATTHEWS IS COMING FOR YOU, ANIMAL. Somewhere on this planet at least a couple kids are getting hurt, LIFE IS GOOD.


Oh, you're not? Well do it for my brother. DO IT NOW


Your present is in the mail!

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Happy Birthday HeckyeahBrother's girlfriend!

Happy Birthday ***!

Just for you, on your birthday, nine minutes and frrrrty five seconds of people Zumbain' it up!

Make it a good one!

Monday, January 3, 2011

first post of 2011


HDPU coming on HUMP DAY