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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?)
--KFK

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Think about how fantastic life would be if everything that you used in your day to day life was ergonomically shaped to fit snuggly in your ass hole!


Sunday, Aug. 29, 2004 - 12:42 p.m.

God probably made Jesus's semen taste like cinnamon buns.


Friday, Aug. 27, 2004 - 3:34 p.m.

"Duchamp!" I yell, Americanly, the ch clenching out past my rear molars like a stale cubed caramel, sounding like the 1950s dad cheering on his son at Little League, c'mon, champ.


Friday, Aug. 27, 2004 - 10:21 a.m.

Apparently there was a huge thunderstorm in the night that kept Esteban up, but I only vaguely heard it and commented to Esteban that the British were coming. And coming hard, according to Hugh Grant and Rupert Everett frolicking in my subconscious.


Friday, Aug. 27, 2004 - 11:54 a.m.

Fuck the Powerpuff Girls - when Mommy is lying on the couch twitching and farting like a submachine gun, that is some fine quality entertainment.


Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 - 7:25 p.m.

“Yeah. Your head looks kind of long – LIKE BEAKER! You look like Beaker, from the Muppets! MEEPMEEP! MEEPMEEP!”


Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 - 7:22 p.m.

"Hi, I am Julio, and I have been using my Swedish penis pump. Admire my massive schlong."


Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 - 7:21 p.m.

Dubbed a dessert fork “Fork Lauderdale” while at a club called Swig, then laughed hysterically at my own pun-infused cleverness.


Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 - 7:20 p.m.

And what did I pay for this? ONE DOLLAR. This is the kind of thing that makes me want to hump the display table and swoon in a big creamy orgasm.


Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 - 7:18 p.m.

While I had been picturing
Chiara and I lounging on the warm grass with our picnic basket, nodding along to "Lost in Space" and sharing the SPF 45, I'm guessing in reality we'll be huddled under Gore-tex and poking each other with our umbrella tops.


Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 - 7:16 p.m.

At least I am not sitting on the couch buried in wads of snotty Kleenex and a quart of Chunky Monkey Ice Cream watching You’ve Got Mail while clipping Cathy cartoons for my fridge! Maybe tomorrow!


Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 - 7:14 p.m.

At some point, we’ll most likely have passionate sex that is completely uninterrupted by any terrorists or ninjas or gunfire.


Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 - 12:45 p.m.

It's not as though this classroom was filled with hags. Statistically speaking, that's impossible. My problem is this: After a certain amount of time, all the Texas blondes I meet sort of run together. It becomes pretty difficult to tell one from the next.


Wednesday, Aug. 25, 2004 - 7:42 p.m.

places south of the Mason-Dixon line are fucking humid and hot as all get out and not in that fun, sexy, pre-teen beach-party kinda way.


Wednesday, Aug. 25, 2004 - 12:15 p.m.

Houston, we have reached dangerous levels of Linky Squee. I repeat. Code Orange on the Linky Squee.


Wednesday, Aug. 25, 2004 - 9:11 a.m.

I mean, really. Is there such a thing as a bad day when you're receiving oral sex? Come on.


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 10:53 p.m.

She's popping one out, stuffing it in a stroller, popping another one out, attaching it her hips, popping another one out, leashing it to her arm, giving them all squeaky toys and sitting them on the beach next to me. There was ketchup in their hair, people! It's clearly out of control.


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 6:25 p.m.

We asked him to join us for JournalCon out of compassion, and he was all, "Riiiight. I'm a rock star, you plebes. Get real."


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 9:10 p.m.

In retrospect, I regret it, because a bachelorette party full of fake penises and condom veils are, in fact, fucking hilarious and fun as shit.


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 9:08 p.m.

I wonder which billionaire is at home right now masturbating in front of his/her newly, illegially obtained masterpieces "The Scream" and "Madonna" by Edvard Munch.


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 9:07 p.m.

I don’t know what to do I am so desperate. He walks around the neighborhood and shoots up all of the neighbor’s pets with it and all the parents on my block keep calling…


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 9:06 p.m.

I’ll be sad if he’s dead, but at least I’ll have the place to myself for a few more days.


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 9:00 p.m.

Oh, you say it is just me and I should enter the circus and make some money if I’m going to be this weird?


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 8:54 p.m.

I love to think about hawks that can, like, sense trauma, like reverse vultures, and come circling with their transgalactic healing powers or whatever.


Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 - 12:25 p.m.

"That'll teach you for filling us with false hope, Corrup-Tor!" the leader will cry. "Now that he has fallen, my brothers, let us adjourn to the Basement of Solitude and plot our next course! Come, the cheetos await!"


Monday, Aug. 23, 2004 - 5:47 p.m.

I think we slammed right into nasty at the words Virtual Girlfriend.


Monday, Aug. 23, 2004 - 6:26 p.m.

I don't think I did too much damage since Disco was kind of giggling as I punched him. Now that I think about it, I think he kind of liked it.


Monday, Aug. 23, 2004 - 1:32 a.m.

"It's a required taste."


Monday, Aug. 23, 2004 - 1:29 a.m.

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