12% NEWS:

Hi Beermates,
So I've been running some banner ads for the next few weeks. So far the Party Animals banner is coming in first with Attention Whore second and Tammy Faye and Alice Cooper a close third. Really, it could be anyone's game! To check out the oh so exciting banner race: log in, go to Gold Members Resources and hit Run or View Banner ads. (But please don't run anymore right now, k babycakes?)

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My best friend Jen & I were joking just the other day that if the world was going to continue with that whole obnoxious trucker.hat.thing we were single-handedly going to bring back the Pleather-Coin-Purse-Cigarette-Case-Thing! And she really went ahead and got me one.
(I want me one of those, too)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:57 p.m.

Sometimes, it’s just oh so wrong. And yet, I’m still having to clutch various body parts to keep from leaking.
Jonny's Top 10 TV List: Where's CSI, Hoebag?

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:55 p.m.

We are really fucking CORNHOLED, I thought.
(Mmmm, Corn.... *gurgle*)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:52 p.m.

Toy Store Guru: The wheels and little bits and pieces on those toys could be a choking hazard if they came off.
Dumb Ass Shopper (that'd be me): Um...he's a pretty bright kid. I don't think he'd try to eat them.
(Ms-M Saves Christmas! Just Like Ernest!)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:45 p.m.

This song just grooves along to a steady bassline and proves that sexy doesn’t necessarily mean a teenager in a crop top talking about how skanky she is (I’m looking at you, Christina).
(Jonny's Top 10 Music Entry!)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:33 p.m.

The study will take place later in the week. A meat thermometer and lubricating jelly will be on hand.
(Don't Fuck Wit' TheC In Da' Kitchen, Bitch!)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:29 p.m.

Every diet soda I have ever tried has tasted like an ass. I bet the only reason my cat licks her own sphincter so much is because she's watching her figure and it's the next best thing to a Diet Coke.
(Ahh, Leebo-Sphincter Talk!)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:28 p.m.

For Christmas, among other things, I gave my mother some Body Butter. If I have to have her finger, she can join me in smelling like a well-lubed stripper.
(Mother-Daughter Stripper Talk! A Christmas Tradition!)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:25 p.m.

OK, so Christmas is over with: I achieved deep spiritual communion with my couch and watched many crappy videos.
(Little Known Fact: I Frequently Reach Nirvana on my Couch)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:24 p.m.

You don’t fear getting up to go to the bathroom because your chair will be stolen seconds after you leave it, because there is space for everyone. There are lovely snacks, usually shrimp cocktails and brands of beer that I’ve actually heard of.

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:22 p.m.

I've been playing the sound clip from Amazon for Foreigner's "Feels Like the First Time" over and over...because it really does feel like the first time all over again.
(I Can't Wait for Halee's Drunken Entries!)

Sunday, Dec. 28, 2003 - 6:19 p.m.

It is not Christmas' fault alone. At any/every present-giving occasion, i find myself possessed with the spirit of MC Hammer at a Benz dealership during his first flush of success, throwing fiduciary caution to the commercial winds.

Friday, Dec. 26, 2003 - 2:36 p.m.

I opened it up and immediately started rubbing it, singing, "L-O...V-E... All I need's my love machine, oh!"

Friday, Dec. 26, 2003 - 2:36 p.m.

It's probably annoying to have me around during Christmas. I imagine it must be like having to deal with Charlie Brown every single day for about two weeks.

Friday, Dec. 26, 2003 - 2:29 p.m.

Can you really rock out to Christian themed lyrics? Can you enjoy a dirty guitar riff without having to go to confession? I'm thoroughly mystified.

Friday, Dec. 26, 2003 - 2:26 p.m.

Merry Christmas by the way, and happy Thursday to you Jews and Atheists.

Friday, Dec. 26, 2003 - 2:21 p.m.

They will say "You made us cookies! oh you wonderful boy!" and it is true...I AM a wonderful boy. Little do they know that the only reason I made cookies in the first place was that I was in the grocery store and I felt like eating cookie dough till I died and I just thought I'd share the love.

Wednesday, Dec. 24, 2003 - 9:18 p.m.

And lastly Santa, I'd like you to bring me peace of mind. I want to know, Santa, that I'm doing the right things; I want to know that I'm okay. Mostly, I want to recognize I'm headed in the right direction.

Wednesday, Dec. 24, 2003 - 9:16 p.m.

Drama no more in 2004! And no more biting my goddamn nails!!!

Wednesday, Dec. 24, 2003 - 9:14 p.m.

I also felt like being rewarded for writing about body image issues on the Internet, was like getting a trophy for kissing your cousin at a Nascar race. In other words, I was unintentionally playing for the room so to speak. We’re all a little uncomfortable in here.

Wednesday, Dec. 24, 2003 - 9:12 p.m.

That puppy-like vitality that she normally had was gone. What lay before us was a shadow of her former self.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 7:04 p.m.

Hey! I can see you! PUT SOME CLOTHES ON, YOU PERV! That is NOT what candy canes are for.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 7:03 p.m.

When considering the classic 1984 song “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”, the answer with a cat would be a resounding “No”.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 6:54 p.m.

And, upon request, you could have them rub your sandwich, mid-preparation, over the nekkid body part of your choice. I don’t know if using bare nipples to tenderize bologna adds flavour or what, but there you have it. And…oh dear…for an added fee, you could get the “secret sauce.”

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 6:52 p.m.

All souls are non-returnable. Broker of Souls, Inc. is not responsible for any souls that are lost or broken. Please drink responsibly.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 6:46 p.m.

Pete will say "You have a giant, throbbing pimple in the center of your forehead" and I will slowly raise my finger heavenward and loudly proclaim "BRING FORTH THE THING!!!"

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:41 a.m.

I’ve been reading a lot about Hinduism lately. Now don’t get me wrong, my name is not Madonna and I am not suddenly searching for some public-insta-cosmic-Jewgasm or anything.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:38 a.m.

No matter what you read, no matter what someone tells you, no matter what telethon you watch - humiliating your pets is the true meaning of Christmas.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:32 a.m.

Oh, and there was the time in 2nd grade when I pushed down this boy Clayton for telling me that I couldn't belong to the Ghostbusters because I was a girl...but he REALLY deserved it.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:31 a.m.

I make this announcement - the first thing I plan to do with my digital camera is put myself in the running for America's Sexiest Gaming Man. If this jerk-off in the orange shirt is my competition, I see no reason why I shouldn't skyrocket in popularity and power.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:27 a.m.

This crap is available everywhere! You want a rubbermaid bin? A Hokey-pokey, Real-Farting-Action, Tickle-Me-Until-I-Barf ELMO?

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:11 a.m.

It is kind of cruel to think that there are animals out there being raised for the express purpose of being slaughtered and consumed. It’s like slavery, but the end result is that you’re slapped on a grill and placed into somebody’s “happy” meal.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:07 a.m.

I make a drunk entry ANYWAY evn though I am at work and I actually have something sort of important this afternono that requires concentration...

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:02 a.m.

Greetings, my Canadian brethren. I implore you to join me in what will become the most historic of days in Diaryland history, and dare I say, the most talked-about event of the coming year. No one will ever be the same.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 9:01 a.m.

Arguments used to be settled “on the table, now!” but it turns out that I don’t win at ping-pong very often, and I stopped agreeing to the bouncy duels.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 8:59 a.m.

As I browsed idly through whatever stores caught my eye, the frenzied throng of holiday shoppers swarmed the aisles about me in a collective paroxysm of state-ordered philanthropism, the reek of desperation hanging heavy in the air like cheap perfume samples in the Eatons cosmetics department.

Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003 - 8:56 a.m.

Anniversaries are All About The Romance and as we all know nothing says, "Hubba Hubba You Still Gots It Babe" quite like installing a knotty pine ceiling.

Monday, Dec. 22, 2003 - 11:35 a.m.

It occurred to me what this all means...MORE DRUNKEN ENTRIES. I completely forgot about the fun of web publishing while intoxicated!

Monday, Dec. 22, 2003 - 11:30 a.m.

Either way I'm getting fucked and I'm not enjoying it.

Monday, Dec. 22, 2003 - 11:27 a.m.

I came to the conclusion that I disliked my new door this morning when it occurred to me that my friend K and I could no longer do our impressions of the last ten minutes of Star Trek 2: The Wrath Of Khan as we would every time I greeted him at the door.

Monday, Dec. 22, 2003 - 11:20 a.m.

What is it about Jesus’ B-Day that makes me care what other people think when I don’t the other 364 days out of the year?

Monday, Dec. 22, 2003 - 11:16 a.m.

I can say the alphabet backwards in four seconds.

Sunday, Dec. 21, 2003 - 7:37 p.m.

I tend to hoard snacks and hide them, as though they were sweet booze and i were a Prohibition-era alcoholic, instead of a just a plain alcoholic.

Sunday, Dec. 21, 2003 - 7:33 p.m.

I plan to show a picture of this computer to my computer, and when I do, my computer's hard drive will become a flaccid drive, and it will empty all of its ports in a righteous show of intense discomfort.

Sunday, Dec. 21, 2003 - 7:29 p.m.

If there is one thing this world needs more of, it's clothing festooned with monkeys. Just think... perhaps, with a few more monkeys on our clothing, we may have solved world hunger by now...

Sunday, Dec. 21, 2003 - 7:28 p.m.

As you can well imagine, I was pretty thrilled by the idea that we finally had a house cat that deigned to catch mice INSIDE the house since Zubby only catches things OUTSIDE the house. Apparently he only likes imported mice and domestic mice are too plebian for his refined palate.

Sunday, Dec. 21, 2003 - 7:20 p.m.

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