Random Plus Dear TTD

Fun search terms that have gotten me new visitors:

–Fat girl lets out a load of crap

–when is warthog day

–madeleine stowe depression

–alice the beer drinking truck driving psychic

–norwegians are stupid

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Junk email:

–“Dissolute pussycats that want to rendezvous and screw.”

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A big joke from the ’70s about the Carter brothers:

–Jimmy Carter, when asked about Billy, replied “He ain’t my brother, he’s just heavy!”

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Dear Trailer trash deluxe:

My boyfriend recently broke it off.  He’s Mormon and I’m Protestant.  He claims he’s going on a mission and can’t do God’s work while he’s got a girlfriend.  He says we can be friends, but he’s been hanging out with Susan since the month he broke up with me.  I don’t think he’s telling me the truth about things.  What should I do?

Dear Dumped:

Joe’s going on a mission all right; the mission is in Susan’s pants.  Dump him; you deserve not to be preached to by a liar.

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Spongebob:  Mr. Krabbes, do you think it’s healthy to be feeding people all that grease?

Mr. K:  Remember, Spongebob, questions are a danger to you and a burden to others!

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SI (Sports Illustrated) mostly sucks, not just because its swimsuit models wouldn’t know what to do with a good sandwich if their life depended on it (probably wouldn’t treat a wiener with respect, either), but because of trite hyperbole about overpaid boring sports morons.  But the article about Rae Carruth’s kid, “The Boy They Couldn’t Kill”, is worth its weight in gold.

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Panda CPR–a recent internet article claims that Panda CPR is the same as for humans, about 100 simulated heartbeats a minute.  They recommend that you perform CPR to the beat of Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees.  I’m not sure if you’re supposed to follow the verse or the chorus.  I know that, if I’m the one lying on the sidewalk?–somebody starts tryin’ to kiss me while “hand-humping” my chest and singing “Well you can tell by the way I use my walk, I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk”–well, if I’m not laughin’ in a few seconds I’m gone for good.

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Be careful what you wish for:  I helped a couple (a pretty gal and some-guy-who-wasn’t-me) load some stuff into their car a while back.  Miriam–“not” her real name (see what I did there)–was all aflutter that we were hellbent on breaking something, when her husband quickly, knowingly, apparently already-long-suffering-ly said “See what I’m doing here, Miriam?”  Yup, there’s times you have to look to the sky and be thankful you’re single.

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