my sudden turn at Blue mosque Sultan Ahmet in Istamy sudden turn at Blue mosque Sultan Ahmet in IstaAnd it was our second time coming to the place because we ask dad if this time we can visit the Blue mosque Sultan Ahmet in Istanbul. Articles
jump over all the barrels and let out a little scream; duck underneath the
2008-06-04 18:52:00 Dear Internet, As I am without anything of substance to write today, please accept the following as a haiku quintet honoring a man of the people, an entrepreneur who strives for perfection in everything he does, a man who — no matter what he says — it draws controversy (sort of like the abortion issue), a messiah to nerds everywhere as the Donkey Kong world record holder and, most importantly, a real American hero: Billy Mitchell. USA! USA! patriotic ties hanging from the neck of a real american. barrel-jumping skills the blueprint for your success to best that monkey. the record stolen shortly thereafter, regained in your face, weibe. billy, oh billy, your glorious hair blowing in the arcade breeze. never has a beard filled me with so much desire to clutch a joystick. It’s funny. If “funny” is the right word. Which it isn’t. More About: Scream , Jump , Duck
gimme a swaller and i’ll pay you back someday
2008-06-02 18:36:00 I thought about you this weekend, Internet. I was having some takeout Chinese food and after I finished my spicy orange chicken (house specialty #A3) I opened up my fortune cookie and it said “you find beauty in ordinary things.” And I’m pretty sure by “ordinary” it meant “you.” [note: and by “beauty” it probably meant “porn.” probably.] Here’s something that has come up recently with which I take much umbrage: in the commercials for that new Billy Ray Montana show where they appear to take all these hillbillies and have ’em sing hillbilly songs — like “Dooley” or “Don’t Mess with My Toot Toot” or whatever the devil it is the hillbillies sing when they’re blowing into a moonshine jug while walking barefoot to the fishin’ hole — and then judge them on which one has the purtiest voice, it says something about country being “America’s mus... More About: Back , Gimme
so we came upon a cracker, and we all came on this cracker, and the last on
2008-05-29 20:29:00 A word to the wise, Internet: no matter how soft and silky that exfoliating body scrub may make your skin feel when used twice a week as per directions on the back of the bottle, it is not — repeat, not — to be used on or near your balls. Trust me on this, and you are wont to do regardless but occasionally need some reassurance. Here’s a haiku: little gritty bits lathered up in the shower will chafe your scrotum But my Wii Fit age is 32, so stick it. [note: the humor-blogs gets dead skin cells all over the place.] More About: Cracker
toil, toil, toil ’til i get sick, i try reverse but i’m
2008-05-20 16:58:00 Call me old fashioned, but I like it when I see a fat girl who’s not ashamed of her body, who flaunts her girth as if she’s proud of it, as if she ate all those Twinkies on purpose and with the sole intent of gaining eight hundred pounds of buttery, larded sex appeal. She says things like “real women have curves” and “more cushion for the pushin’,” her greasy pores all the while staining the spandex shorts she ought not be wearing as the glare from the sun reflects off the bottom of the belly creeping ever so gently from beneath her tank top, blinding the other shoppers at the outlet mall who knew full well the price they might have to pay for discount Liz Claiborne cargo pants yet chanced it anyway. I like it when a fat girl proclaims that she’s big and beautiful, that those skinny model girls are the abnormal and unnatural and unattractive ones, that it takes a real man to love a real woman. You go girl. But you’re w... More About: Sick
toil, toil, toil ’til i get sick, i try reverse but i’m
2008-05-20 16:58:00 Call me old fashioned, but I like it when I see a fat girl who’s not ashamed of her body, who flaunts her girth as if she’s proud of it, as if she ate all those Twinkies on purpose and with the sole intent of gaining eight hundred pounds of buttery, larded sex appeal. She says things like “real women have curves” and “more cushion for the pushin’,” her greasy pores all the while staining the spandex shorts she ought not be wearing as the glare from the sun reflects off the bottom of the belly creeping ever so gently from beneath her tank top, blinding the other shoppers at the outlet mall who knew full well the price they might have to pay for discount Liz Claiborne cargo pants yet chanced it anyway. I like it when a fat girl proclaims that she’s big and beautiful, that those skinny model girls are the abnormal and unnatural and unattractive ones, that it takes a real man to love a real woman. You go girl. But you’re w... More About: Sick
other rappers diss me, say my rhymes are sissy
2008-05-12 19:32:00 Happy belated Mother’s Day, Internet, to all you MILFs out there in particular. If you aren’t sure whether or not you qualify, here’s a quick and easy test: Go look in the mirror. Are you fat? If the answer is “yes,” then the answer is “no.” Cappice? After all, it’s MILF, not MBGLF*. The “I” is key, and you must never forget as much. [note: “black guys”] But if you still aren’t sure, send me some photos and I’ll tell you. The nakeder, the better. But please please please take the test first. Hey Chicago! Remember that time last week when I saw the entrance for your pink line? And I got excited but when I went down I opted to ride your brown line instead, over and over for what seemed like an eternity? I enjoyed the ride so much that, when I did finally get off, I hadn’t even noticed that at some point along the way I’d transferred over to the red line. Get what I’m saying? OM... More About: Diss , Rappers , Rhymes
give my heart just a word of sympathy, be as fair to my heart as you can b
2008-05-02 19:50:00 Say what you want, Internet, but I really do believe that, were it me keeping my daughter chained up in the basement for the purpose of having the sex and also probably to hang out with and play the Guitar Hero in co-op mode and watch an odd Father Knows Best re-run now and then, I really doubt I’d have carried the relationship on for 24 years. Call me old fashioned, but once she hit 35 I’d have been all “look babe, I’m sorry but you’re just not doing it for me, what with your premature aging brought on by living in the dark with no exercise or vitamins or fresh air.” How could I not, particularly with my 19-year-old granddaughter grunting and growling her nubile Austrian ass around the basement? A man has needs! [note: gdilf.] Oh sure, I’d have stayed around awhile for the sake of the kids. Always for the kids. But that’s because I’m a man of responsibility and integrity and especially compassion. You could learn a thi... More About: Word , Heart , Fair , Give
you have an expertise that’s like a real disease, such a strong
2008-04-28 20:03:00 I hate being the bearer of bad news, Hartford, CT, but I’ve been wrought with guilt these past few days over a trick I unintentionally played on you last week, and I feel compelled to come clean: Jesus is not, in fact, my homie. Not really, nor has he been for quite some time. I know the hat I was wearing led you to believe the contrary and prompted the “hey, I like your hat” brand of compliments you showered me with upon my arrival, but you were unwittingly deceived. The hat is a joke, a clever gag to those who know me. He isn’t even real, the Jesus. Get it? OMFGLMAO. But hindsight being 20/20, I suppose I concede that sarcasm translates poorly in both email and novelty trucker caps. True, the use of ALL CAPS should have clued you in, but you never were the brightest taco in the combination platter. And for that I do apologize. Sorry to disappoint, Hartford. I’ll understand if you want to break things off. [note: jesus loves the humor-blogs.] More About: Disease , Real , Strong
and if i pointless arch, and spit white nothings at the sky…
2008-04-17 17:03:00 Sorry about the whole “not blogging all that much” thing, Internet, but the past few weeks I just haven’t been myself. I’ve been George Hamilton, hanging out with Imelda Marcos and eating Ritz crackers and watching Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles for the bajillionth time (it’s a skunk, you silly Brit!), all the while goading your young to pursue the “healthy” tan. My, what a healthy tan. Hey Internet! Wanna know how to make fun of the retardeds and get away with it? Step 1: Make fun of the retardeds. [note: i like to hold my arm close to my body with my wrist bent and make noises.] Step 2: When people give you their scornful looks complete with furrowed brow, tell them this: “Scorn me not, mother, for it’s not that I’m making fun of the retardeds but, rather, I’m pretending to be a retarded so I can better understand their plight.” That will most assuredly shut their smug mouths, as the guilt of false accusatio... More About: White , Spit , Pointless
your spirit pokes me, your smile provokes me
2008-04-07 19:54:00 So I went to the Sam’s this weekend to pick up some Hogan’s Heroes DVDs and a five-gallon bucket of pickles to cut up and put into some potato salad I was making (since relish just isn’t the same thing (and I really, really love potato salad (I make it with love (and potatoes)))), when I saw this. OMGLOL. Just kidding. It’s not funny. I mean, hey old man: really? You sure about that? Also this weekend, I found out that that Vanessa Hudgens girl is coming to the local water park this summer to sing or perform skits or whatever the devil it is people like her get famous for doing. I’m not really into the Hannah Montana myself, but I’m thinking about going because — and you’re probably not going to believe me about this, but I swear it’s true and it’s on the Wiki and everything — I hear she likes to show off the big bushes. That may be the one single area where retro hasn’t made it back in vogue, the big... More About: Smile , Spirit
i will carry the torch for you, my sole purpose is to torture you
2008-04-01 16:15:00 You know, Internet, sometimes I really wish I were black so I could go to way-cool family reunions and then wear the commemorative t-shirts to all my usual hangouts like the Wal-Mart or outside the Circle K or as a guest on Oprah’s Big Fat Show. I’d drink artificial fruit-flavored sodas and vote for Obama, and I bet I could get away with talking during movies, too, because it’s generally safe to assume the whiteys know better than to step to this. And the bling. Oh my god with the bling. Right? Right. I figure I’d still pronounce milk correctly, though. Because I don’t believe in perpetuating stereotypes. APRIL FOOLS!!!! OMGLOL!!!! I wouldn’t really vote for Obama. [note: whatever you do, don’t visit the humor-blogs.] More About: Purpose , Torture , Sole , Torch , Carry
private eyes are watching you, they see your every move
2008-03-28 19:40:00 Hey there, Internet. I’d say sorry for being away for so long, but I just got back from the New York and I had such a great time that saying “sorry for being away for so long” would be a lie from the very pits of hell. And I don’t lie. Not as a habit, anyway. While there, I saw the Knicks play a game they actually won, and I got to boo Isiah Thomas with approximately fifteen thousand other disgruntled Knick fans. What fun! But then at halftime they brought out some of the cripples to play crippled basketball, and that was a bit much. I mean, really: I’m glad they have recess at the Special Ed, but I didn’t pay some guy on the street $60 for his extra ticket to watch it. Right? Right. Other than that, New York was phenomenal. I had such an amazing time that I was even kind of happy my flight home got canceled due to the inspections. The rescheduling afforded me another few hours to hang out in the city and enjoy some of its world-famous, second-h... More About: Eyes , Move , Private , Watching
nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, panic spreading far and wide…
2008-03-20 01:32:00 No matter how hard I try, I’ve found that I simply cannot read Baltasar Gracián without thinking about Battlestar Galactica at some point along the way. Am I right, people? OMGLOL. I’m referring to the old version from the 70’s, mind you, and not the new one. Because retro is cool, but you aren’t. Not really. So I was in the Wal-Mart this morning to pick up a lime squeezer and some astringent which was meant to be a gift for you because of your acne but now I’ve blown the surprise so I’m taking it back and you’ll have to suffer our continued ridicule (pizza the hutt), when I saw how The Man has re-released G.I. Joe action figures. Joy! I bought me a Cobra Commander to spread mayhem and destruction all over my desk at work, but it must have slipped my mind that a good manager delegates. I learned that in the management seminar I went to, so re: the mayhem and destruction: no can do. But never fear, we’ve got a plan: I&rs... More About: Wide , Panic , Hide
i may make you feel, but i can’t make you think
2008-03-18 02:30:00 [note: this is a repost from a couple of years ago, because i’m lazy like that. blow me.] So, today is St. Patrick’s Day or, as it’s known in some circles, My Religion is Better Than Yours Day. I don’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, for the same reasons I also don’t celebrate the birthdays of Robert Tilton, Benny Hinn, or Jan Crouch. [note: reverend ike, on the other hand, i choose to celebrate daily. for the others, maybe when they die i’ll find cause to party.] If you aren’t Irish or Catholic, the only reason I can fathom for you to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day is the opportunity to drink. A lot. Like the amateur drunk that you are. You’re also probably a big fan of Mardi Gras and New Year’s Eve, when you feel you’re allowed to get belligerent because the calendar says it’s okay. And the difference between “date rape” and “making love” to you is directly related... More About: Make , Feel
gum acacia, hydrogenated oil, potato starch… bring to a boil!
2008-03-15 01:51:00 Call me old fashioned, but do we really need a study on how fat fatties have more of the breast cancer than regular women? There’s generally more boob on your average big, disgusting fat chick than on your average normal chick, so it just makes sense that the cancer would prefer a more spacious abode. It’s logic, really. And besides, in lieu of a healthy diet and exercise, mastectomies are a proven weight loss solution. So score one for the sweat hogs! Or two! Reach for the stars! You can do it! [note: not really. omglol.] More About: Potato
days run together like it’s one big long one, and if you want in
2008-03-10 15:53:00 So I saw some ducks having a threesome the other morning on my way in to work. Only two of them were actually having the sex, but the other one was right there watching, and I think that should count. It was just like that time back in college when my girlfriend had one of her “friends” come over and, after a bottle or two of wine, one thing led to another and things adjourned to the bedroom; they may have technically been the ones having the sex, but I still went outside, climbed the trellis and watched from the window. Total threesome. Hey Internet, why the hell aren’t you already listening to the Ettes? The only people who don’t like them are lame, and we all know lameness is clinically proven to cause the cancer. And you don’t want that, do you? The cancer? Do it now, then go buy their debut CD and go see them on tour and when you do, tell Coco I said “hi.” I’m hoping they’ll make it big and thank me in the liner no... More About: Days , Long
and the big pot boils with centuries of conspiracy and cabbages and kings w
2008-03-05 01:37:00 So I was in the Wal-Mart the other day, Internet, and I ran into something that reminded me of you: Hey, guess what! I finally got reviewed over at the Humor-Blogs.com, and some of the reviewers actually gave me bad scores because, get this, they said I offended them. Me. Offensive. OMGLOLROFLMAOLOLOLOL I couldn’t figure it out at first — I mean, what blog were they reading? — but then I realized it was probably just some of the retardeds playing on the computer that done it. And I have a soft spot in my heart for the retardeds, so I guess it’s okay. I’ll turn the other cheek, like Jesus might do if he weren’t made up. More About: Conspiracy , Kings , Boils
i wait around the train station, waitin’ for that train
2008-02-29 19:45:00 So I’m in this tiny dimly-lit bar on Capitol Hill, right? Wednesday, I think, because I’d been stood up at the train station and needed the love and comfort only a handful of pints could offer, but that’s neither here nor there. So I’m in this tiny dimly-lit bar on Capitol Hill, drinking the beers and swapping the midget stories with some friends when all of the sudden we noticed that things were… quiet. A little too quiet, in fact; we weren’t having to shout to hear each other over the crowd, and yet the bar was packed. Packed with a bunch of the deafs, turns out. Thank god they were the quiet kind of deafs, and not the ones that try to talk and make the noises because, really, who can tolerate that? But still, there must have been 50 of them, all doing deaf things like flailing their hands around and whatever the devil it is the deafs do. And being around that many retardeds at once is a little unnerving, let me tell you. I felt like ... More About: Train , Station , Wait
this is what i do, this is what i do, this is what i do: i sit on you
2008-02-25 19:41:00 You know the hardest part about flying across the country to attend a seminar and having a midget assigned to your break-out group, forcing you to sit just one chair over from it for three full days? You might think it’d be trying to hold your breath all that time so as not to inhale any dwarf dander, but as usual you’d be wrong and would look stupid and everyone would point and laugh, even more than we do already which I know sounds impossible but trust me, we will. No, the hardest part about flying across the country to attend a seminar and having a midget assigned to your break-out group is that when it comes time to do an exercise and the little critter wants to contribute, you and all the other real people in the group have to pretend you’re taking it seriously and are letting it participate. You’ll even have to look at it, and you can’t crack up and laugh and if you throw up a little in your mouth you have to swallow it right back down ...
look what he has done for us, he’s filled us up with cheer
2008-02-22 16:20:00 Normally you wouldn’t learn this without reading a book on the subject, but since you live too far away to have me run over and help you sound out the big words, Internet, I know that’ll never happen so I’m going to tell you: While your homebrewed beer may be yummy and delicious (and by “your” I mean “my”), all that unfiltered yeast will play havoc with your innards. And by “your” I mean “my.” Here’s a haiku: little bit o’poo resting just inside my ass makes me scared to fart. Totally worth it, though. I’d share some with you, but I don’t like you. Not really. More About: Cheer
salvation à la mode and a cup of tea
2008-02-16 01:14:00 So I’m walking to the McDonald’s earlier this week — you know the one on Market somewhere around 2nd — to purchase a delicious Sausage Egg McMuffin with which to get the horrible taste of that crappy Wendy’s sandwich out of my mouth, and what do I see but this crippled hobo with his crippled hobo wheel chair parked right in front of the door. “Well that’s just great” I said to myself as I began to ponder whether rolling him into the street would be less taxing than just dumping him out of the chair, but before I could decide he grabbed the door handle and, with the grace only a crippled hobo could muster, rolled his chair backward in a half-circle and opened the door for me. “Thanks” I said to him as I walked past, holding my breath so as to avoid the smell, and inside I went. But as I stood there waiting in line and trying to check out the cute Asian chick next to me as discreetly as possible, a strange thing hap... More About: Mode , Salvation
i’m rockin’ and you’re yawning but you never
2008-02-11 16:31:00 So there I was, sitting alone in the Houston airport yesterday morning, trying to pretend my Wendy’s breakfast sandwich was just as good as a Sausage Egg McMuffin (but it so. was. not.) when I decided to make with a little of the people watching. And in doing so, something occurred to me that prompted a lot of contemplation and pondering and soul searching during my four-hour flight to San Francisco: I’m really kind of jealous of the black guys. Not so much for their huge cocks or across-the-board athletic abilities or sassy overweight aunties or proficiencies to score with fat, ugly white girls, although those are fine things one and all. No, I’m really kind of jealous of the black guys because of the clothes they get to wear. Hoodies and track suits just look so… comfortable, you know? And don’t even get me started on the sneakers. It’s like you’re walking on air. But I’m just a little too pasty to pull that look off, I’...
on lasalle and rampart street, the combo’s there with a mambo bea
2008-02-05 14:43:00 [note: i was out of town all week, so i didn’t find out about the server errors until saturday morning. you could have emailed and let me know, but you didn’t and i hate you for it. i fixed it for you anyway, because even though i hate you, i’d still like to get you in the sack. and boy, will i…] Happy the Mardi Gras, Internet. I don’t really celebrate it much myself (you know why), but I will gladly take the day off from work. I’m opportunistic like that. In fact, getting the day off for the Mardi Gras is really the only perk to living in south Louisiana. That, and in the Summer when the girls sometimes don’t wear the bras, all the humidity often makes it easier to see nipple. Other than bottling the IPA that’s been brewing in my spare bathtub the past month and packing for a business trip, I think I’ll spend the day writing a haiku. Or two. For you. sorority girls so drunk and, briefly, topless make their fathers p... More About: Street , Mambo , Combo
on lasalle and rampart street, the combo’s there with a mambo bea
2008-02-05 14:43:00 Happy the Mardi Gras, Internet. I don’t really celebrate it much myself (you know why), but I will gladly take the day off from work. I’m opportunistic like that. In fact, getting the day off for the Mardi Gras is really the only perk to living in south Louisiana. That, and in the Summer when the girls sometimes don’t wear the bras, all the humidity often makes it easier to see nipple. Other than bottling the IPA that’s been brewing in my spare bathtub the past month and packing for a business trip, I think I’ll spend the day writing a haiku. Or two. For you. sorority girls so drunk and, briefly, topless make their fathers proud. mardi gras mambo mambo mambo, party gras just fucking stop it. vomiting frat boys one too many cans of pabst i hope you all die. Okay, so that was three. Didn’t think you were paying attention. More About: Street , Mambo , Combo
you can’t find it in you like you think you can
2008-01-29 16:05:00 Hey there, Internet. I’m sorry I’ve been neglectful of you recently, but the truth of the matter is that my life has been one pointy toe shoed kick in the nuts the past several weeks, and I’ve been all out of funny. True, some might argue that I’ve always been all out of funny, but to those I would say “look, I don’t care how long we’ve been married, if I wanted my wife’s opinion, I’d have sent you a text message asking for it.” I like communicating with her via the text because I find the shorter the message, the less of the boring. I had a dream last night I was giving some sex advice to this hot teenager. She had asked for it, mind you — I don’t go about randomly offering unsolicited sex advice in my dreams, not usually anyway — and being the warm and compassionate person you all know me to be, I was doing my best to help her out. But after a little while I sort of half woke up and realized it... More About: Find
look into my eyes, what do you see?
2008-01-23 01:02:00 Call me old fashioned, but I think it’s just a tad hypocritical for racists to take the day off on MLK. I’m talking about the white and doesn’t like the blacks kind of racist, mind you, and not the black and doesn’t like the whites kind, because I believe they’re well within their rights to take some time off, especially with Black History Month a mere week and change away. Them cardboard illustrations of Eli Whitney ain’t going to cut themselves out along the dotted lines, you know? And I’m certainly not talking about the non-Mexican and doesn’t like the Mexicans kind of racists, because let’s be honest: pretty much everyone fits into that group. But now I’ve gone off on a tangent. Where were we? I celebrated the holiday by drinking heavily and playing Guitar Hero, even five-starring “Cult of Personality” on Hard. For you, Dr. King. For you. [note: you too, vernon reid.] Also yesterday, I saw an SUV tha... More About: Eyes
does daddy have a shotgun? he said he’d never need one
2008-01-18 17:26:00 Now I’m not nearly macho enough to say it to their hillbilly faces, but as I’m sitting at a computer and have the relative security and anonymity of you at my disposal, Internet, I feel it’s safe to say out loud for one and all to hear that I’m no NASCAR fan. I’m not a redneck, you see, so there’s no way you’ll ever get me to attend a race in person, toothless redneck women flashing their tits and spitting their snuff be damned. I also don’t have a gun rack or a rebel flag t-shirt and have never attended a Klan meeting, but that’s neither here nor there. [note: or is it?] Even so, I’d like to take this opportunity to express my absolute admiration and deepest respect for the entire NASCAR community for continuing to embrace Dale Jr. even though he’s come out as being one of the homos. And it’s not as if he quietly left the closet with the dignity such an event would normally warrant; oh no, he’... More About: Daddy , Shotgun
razzle ’n’ a dazzle ’n’ a flash a l
2008-01-11 22:39:00 So I’m going through the pantry the other day, looking for expired cans of sirloin burger Chunky to donate to the local food drive for that last-second tax credit like you all do too so stop judging me, when all of the sudden and out of the blue, enlightenment shone its shiny light on me: All Def Leppard songs really do kind of sound alike. So mom, I’m sorry. You told me as much 20 years ago when I begged to see them on the Hysteria tour at the Hirsch Memorial Coliseum but you didn’t feel like taking me even though Tesla was the opening act and I bet they played Little Suzi and held the microphone out over the audience to let them sing the “Little Suzi’s on the up” part and everything. You were right, but I didn’t listen back then. The kids never do, I suppose. Time, though, has opened both my eyes and my ears. Time, and also the “greatest hits” CD I just bought. More About: Flash
he got joo-joo eyeball, he one holy roller
2008-01-07 20:14:00 Few things make me happier than the knowledge that, from this day forward, anytime you hear the song “Come Together” — either the Beatles or Aerosmith version, I’m not picky — you won’t be able to get past the part that goes “come together, right now, over me” without immediately thinking about bukkake, and then thinking “that’s fucking gross,” and then thinking about me. “God damn you, Jeremy, for putting that in my head” you’ll whisper. “Next time I hear this odd yet catchy song, I will not think about disgusting bukkake” you’ll pledge to yourself as if to show me up. But the next time comes* and surprise! You did it again. [* pun! get it?] Eventually though, you won’t be revulsed by the thought and will even begin to find it funny. Maybe it will bring us closer, you and me, and wouldn’t that be swell? And you’ll hear the song and every time they hit th... More About: Holy , Eyeball , Roller
i wish i could say no regrets and no emotional debts
More articles from this author:2007-12-31 16:58:00 A word to the wise, Internet: When you go to the Babies “R” Us store — as you might do when a friend is expecting and you have to buy a gift, except that you don’t really have friends so it probably won’t ever come up for you — and you see that they have a baby relief section, they’re talking about salves and powders and the like, and not the ear plugs, alcohol and jars of the SIDS you were expecting when you first thought of “baby relief.” But wouldn’t that be a swell idea for a store, to sell jars of the SIDS for new parents to use whenever they’ve had enough? I can see the label now: “The SIDS, Now with More D!” and then in small print at the bottom “Best Used Before: The Little Fucker Starts with the Crying.” People could appease the Jesusy by not having abortions and garner sympathy from the townsfolk (on account of the dead babies) in one fell swoop. More whorish of high school gi... More About: Regrets , Emotional 1, 2, 3, 4 |
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