E R N I E ' S H O U S E O F W H O O P A S S
jealous? click here to get your website on ehowa.com for as little as $5 per day
|October 25, 2017|
"I spent my undergrad years at Auburn University in Alabama. The city of Auburn is very nice (population about 60,000 when school is in session) but the outlying areas of Lee County, in which Auburn is located, were home to some of the finest inbred crackers that Jerry Springer scouts could ever hope to encounter. Other areas of Alabama have much higher concentrations of white trash, but it really doesn't make any difference. Strategically placed, it would only take about 50 of these guys to make any city, however progressive, take on the image that just about all cities in Alabama have with the outside world. I digress.
One summer night, we were drinking on a backyard deck and one of the guys decided to go in and make another drink of whiskey. He tried to accomplish this by walking through the closed sliding glass door. He realized his error when he got about halfway through and managed not to fall. His blue jeans kept his lower body pretty much unscathed, but the Tshirt he was wearing did nothing to prevent a really nice gash about 2 inches long on the outside of one of his arms. Blood spurted out about an inch with every heartbeat until we put pressure on it. He had scratches all over his face and hands, but he was unusually calm about the incident. We started the drill.
We were all WAY too drunk to drive, and the Auburn Police give an incredibly high number of DUIs. Fortunately we tended to date girls that didn't drink much on Tuesday nights. The girlfriend carpool arrived and we piled in for the trip to the mergency room, as this was always a community event.
Upon arrival in the waiting room, we began our regular routine. It was apparent from early on that we were in for a treat. Sitting directly across from me, alone, was a skinny redneck tard with long, stringy hair emerging from underneath the painter's cap that was the grit fashion du jour. Scraggly beard, huge Adam's apple, tank top shirt with one of those "funny sayins" on it, and cut off jeans. Not your ordinary cutoffs, however. These were cut so short on at least one leg as to allow one of his testicles to come out for a bit of fresh air. We immediately pointed the stray ball out to the nurzing staff and they got a huge kick out of it. The testicle barer never showed the slightest bit of self consciousness about his attire. One person who was there swears that our man had occasion to reach down and scratch it a time or two.
The guy sitting next to my sliced-up friend looked a little tense. He had the Richard Ramirez, night stalker look going. He was sweating and wringing his hands when a nurse approached him to ask a question. It was at this point that the guy climbed on top of the back of his chair and kind of perched like a bird for a second before launching himself towards the nurse. She was quick enough to move out of the way of the flying stressed man. The guy was a complete maniac when he managed to get up to his knees after a pretty hard landing. He held his arms straight out to his sides , tilted his head back and began screaming some shit about rodents in as loud as I have ever heard an unamplified voice. It didn't take but about 20 seconds to get the guy into restraints. As they wheeled him past us, he put some kind of curse on us. I think to this day that the curse may have been the cause of the terrible flatulence I have since suffered.
Soon afterward the nurzes came and got my friend to sew him up. They let us go back to watch the stitch job and we were more than happy to critique the resident doing the sewing. He told us that the screaming guy had been dropped off at the door before the fit and that he had gone into some serious convulsions when they got him out back. He had apparently been going for a Crystal Meth marathon record. The testicle guy was waiting for his son, who had been hit over the head with a *pop-up-pinball* toy by a sibling. The family might not have been much to look a, but it had a theme, by God.
ObT: What started the Mergency room conversation this weekend. Drunk, I walked out into the front yard and talked to at least one neighbor before realizing that not only my fly was completely unzipped, but that the tip of my crank was hanging out underneath the bottom of my tshirt. Hidey Ho!" -- Fatty
Hi Ernie, Got an infographic here that provides information about the top 10 most popular dog breeds around the world. Best Regards, David
Hi Ernie, Thought you would like this. This is better than any porn. Fuck those guys. Regards, Eric
Catalonia's push for independence is taking its toll on the region's tourism industry, with revenues and hotel bookings down since a banned October 1 secession referendum that was marred by violence. With its capital Barcelona and Costa Brava beaches, Catalonia is the Spanish region that most attracts foreign visitors. More than 18 million visitors went in 2016, or a quarter of all foreigners who came to Spain. "The tourism sector is one of the most strongly affected by the instability," Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy told parliament last week as defended his government's handling of the Catalan crisis. But images of police beating would-be voters as they tried to stop the independence referendum and the massive street demonstrations in Barcelona that followed the vote had dampened visitors' enthusiasm. Despite this, might you be able to find this beachside bar, so I may meet that very enthusiastic young lass for a drink?
The Incredible Story of ‘Dawn Doe,' a Real Skeleton Seen in Dawn of the Dead
Cub Scout Pack Put a Mattis Quote on a Patch.
this kid's got style
a suicide bomber is stopped and arrested in iraq
she'll certainly do a lot for that dick
this chick will bust your ass
GoPro: Let Someone Else Be a Hero
Car cuts across lane and knocks down Motorcycle
on the up side, they had great brakes
The Laughing Dead: Previously unseen snaps from behind-the-scenes
this is me on facebook
The 100 Hardest Video-Game Bosses, Ranked
Stock Subaru shames everyone at test hill
rubber fist meets rubber face
Kayla Kiss is a Bad Kitty!
tessa fowler face sminked
Sexy Amateur Blonde dressed as a dirty cop
Darisha's Sexy Halloween Costume
Rei - Halloween Halloween Halloween
Lisa Appleton in a Very See Through Top
Angela Sommers - Ms Marvel Vs Scarlet Witch
|October 23, 2017|
"When I was about 17 years old, I always had itchy, flaky scalp. It would itch and irritate me so badly that my mother thought I had lice from all the scratching I did, but no, it was just my nasty scalp. Sometimes while I was in a particularly productive bout of scratching I would accidentally hook a fingernail under a large flake and pull off what looked like a little cake of crusted dandruff, about the width of a thimble, in my hand.
Anyway, during one such intense scratching episode I got my fingernails involved, but this time instead of pulling the flake straight off, I razored a straight line about 2 inches long, straight up the back of my head. Immediately I could feel the tip of my fingers covered with some nasty goo. I had delved much deeper than usual in this case than previously. I tried to push the edges of the nearest dandruff-infested skin clumps back together like a seam, but was met with a dagger-like shaft of horrible pain for my efforts. I decided to ignore it, and go on with my life. BIG MISTAKE.
I could feel that foul pus oozing out of the back of my head all night long, infecting my hair and trickling down the back of my neck. I touched some of the trickle that was on the back of my neck, and looked at my fingers--the fluid was a sickly yellow and smelled like death. Over the course of the next 2 days, I always wore a hat, pulled down practically to my ears, to disguise from my alarmist parents the sight of my crusted hair and the constant seeping flow.
Finally, though, about 3 days after I'd cut myself, I began to worry because the wound hadn't finished leaking pus. Tentatively, I pushed two fingers at the back of my skull and was rewarded with pain so intense I collapsed to the floor. My mother found me and pulled my hat off, and screamed because of the coating of translucent gunky pus-clumps that clung to my hair in various states of congealment.
They took me to the doctor, who shaved off all my hair to discover that the wound had become badly infected. They managed to save my life, but it turned out that the malignant pus had seeped into a small portion of the bone at the rear of my skull. That particular portion had also become infected and the doctor had to actually REMOVE a section of my skull a little larger than a quarter, replacing it with a small steel plate. He later told my father that the part of my bone they'd removed looked like a saggy, rotting, flaking honeycomb.
Anyway, for the entire rest of my life I have kept my head utterly shaved, and even though I have no hair I use a special shampoo for my scalp--I probably don't need to do either anymore, and many people stare at me (maybe they think I'm a Nazi skinhead) but I don't care. To this day I will often absently run my hands over the back of my bald head, luxuriating in the quiet joy of having a clean, dry, healthy scalp." -- Teratoma
Hey Ernie, I think I've written to you about twice since you opened up shop. Thought I'd throw some fodder your way. First off, here's some "Russian Pinups" .. A little fun, a little creepy. Second, I was in Hampden (a part of Baltimore) this past Wednesday, and I saw this guy, stoned out of his gourd. How do I know he's whacked? Because there ain't no way in hell a sober peson can lean like that without busting his ass.. Last (and I hesitate to share, but WTF, right?) - at the age of 49, I'm doing my first cosplay. I don't know if I'm doing it right, but, well... Browncoats FTW (if 10 years or so too late)... Yes, I (think) I'm prepared for the ribbing I'm about to get. Keep up the good work, -Tom
Actually dude, that's a pretty good Captain Mal. Color me impressed.
Arch bridge is one of the most popular types of bridges, which came into use over 3000 years ago and remained in height of popularity until industrial revolution and invention of advanced materials enabled architect to create other modern bridge designs. However, even today arc bridges remain in use, and with the help of modern materials, their arches can be build on much larger scales. The basic principle of arch bridge is its curved design, which does not push load forces straight down, but instead they are conveyed along the curve of the arch to the supports on each end. These supports -- called abutments -- carry the load of entire bridge and are responsible for holding the arch in a very stable position. Can you tell me the name of the historic old bridge this abutment is supporting?
this bert and ernie shit is creepy
russian or not, this is a cool paint job
meanwhile at night over afghanistan
well at least she's alive to laugh about it
the 40oz tomahawk
don't stare at the sun
my owner loves me
Group Of Orcas Hunt Minke Whale
Every Caturday we give Marmalade a little whip cream as a treat
trapeze article, fall leaves, and a lesson about inertia
s.s. beeftacos takes flight and street clean up
Trying to teach my son to blow his nose properly and...well...this happened
P3D - The Impossible Landing (United Airlines Flight 232)
the remastered and upgraded version of Hell's Club 2 with a new calibration.
Don't hesitate when jumping a ditch
Alex Chance has us Seeing Stars
Aspin Martin gets naked
Cybergirl Klara seeing Double
marilou morales shows off her new icredible boobs
Misty Lovelace Returns on In The Crack
fist girls picdump 47
Blonde in a dress in a pool
|October 20, 2017|
So this past Saturday night was the last night at our local brewhouse, which was closing down. Now I'm a trivia junkie and this weekly trivia has been a staple for Team Ernie for the last two years or so, so I'm really going to miss it. But for the last night there were about seven or eight of us sitting around a table before trivia started, and The Boss Lady and I decided to order a pizza. And for delivery, of course, because how fucking lazy am I? The pizza parlor is literally across the street, so I actually tip some guy $5 on a $20 pizza just to walk a fucking pizza across the street because I'm too fucking lazy to be bothered to go get my own greasebomb. But I digress. Pizza shows up and I eat three slices and The Boss Lady eats two, leaving three slices of pepperoni extra cheese left.
Now one of the guys who has migrated to our trivia team -- henceforth known as This Fucking Guy -- is a spitting fucking image of Travis Dave, the villain with women's hair from Under Siege 2. So fucking much that every fucking week I pull a photo of (actor) Eric Bogosian up on my phone, hold it up with This Fucking Guy in the background lean over to The Boss Lady and mutter, "this is where the shit really starts to fly, a fertilizer plant in Guangzhou," under my breath before laughing so hard I snort beer out of my nose. The Boss Lady usually hits me and calls me an asshole. Now I really don't know This Fucking Guy very much, he's a friend of a friend who just kind of sits in with our team if we have an open seat. So for the most part, he and I don't really interact except to think out loud if one of us is close to the answer. That is, until this week.
With three slices left in the pizza box, I ask the other people sitting at the table if anyone would like a slice. Everyone says no except for This Fucking Guy, so I pull out one of the paper plates that came with the pizza and hand it to him, turning the box so he can tug a slice onto his plate. Cool, right? And over the course of the next hour or so trivia runs its course -- we fucking win of course, because I am a fucking Trivia God -- and losers from other teams start to pay their tabs and head out. Our team decided to stay for awhile since this was both trivia and the brewery's last night. People are standing, people are sitting, conversing with each other, with stragglers from other teams, with the owners and whatnot. I happen to look down and see the two remaining pieces of pizza.
Now I can't speak for everyone, but personally I fucking love pizza. I mean I love all food, I just happen to love pizza more than others. So I nudge The Boss Lady and ask her if she would like one of the remaining pieces of pizza. She give the cold congealed greasy mess a look and shakes her head no. "Fuck that noise," I think, "I'm having one of those motherfuckers." And here's where I make a critical error born in benevolence. I make the mistake of turning the box to the remaining part of our team -- of which This Fucking Guy is a member -- and ask if anyone would like a remaining slice. Well before I could say fuckall, This Fucking Guy says, "Yeah I haven't eaten all day so I'll take them." And before my alcohol addled brain can process what he said -- "them?" -- this motherfucker reaches across the table and grabs not one but both of my slices of fucking pizza.
Now in the interest of full disclosure, I really didn't need said slice of pizza. In fact, I really should trade slices of pizza in for salad. But that's not the point. The point was, it's my fucking pizza. So The Boss Lady must have watched my eyes follow those two slices of cheesy gold from the pizza box over to This Fucking Guy's grease stained paper plate, like a dog watching you eat the last fucking Oreo. Simultaneously two things happened: I inhaled to say something very impolite and The Boss Lady pinched the back of my arm. I can't know if this is an evolutionary thing, but I can tell you the latter action cancelled out the former. My confused gaze shifted between her, the empty box which now only held a few scraps of congealed cheese, so those two delicious slices of pizza, to This Fucking Guy, and finally down to my empty plate.
But despite no verbal communication, The Boss Lady made it abundantly clear that I didn't need another slice of pizza and that I should let this slight go unanswered. For the record, both of these things are against my nature, but a gentleman has to make some concessions and heed the will of his Boss Lady from time to time. Fine.
Now the kid who runs trivia -- I can call young adults 'kid' now that now that I have a hairline in full muthafucking retreat -- just had his first kid a few months ago, so I'm sure the loss of a hundred bucks or so a week in Trivia pay will be felt. So with the smell of pepperoni still wafting its way up my nostrils, I lean over to The Boss Lady and the girl she's talking to and ask, "Hey should we take up a collection for Trivia Dude to say thanks for all the trivia he's done?" The two ladies look at each other, then back at me, and then nod their heads in agreement. So The Boss Lady pulls a $20 out of her purse to be thrown in for Team Ernie, the other lass she was talking to pulls out a $20, the guy across from me pulls out a $10, and I lean over to my left and pitch the idea to the other side of the table, which included This Fucking Guy.
A couple of people nod their head and after reaching for their wallets, and a couple more $10s, a $5, and a $20 head my way. I reach over to start collecting them and then out of the corner of my right eye I see This Fucking Guy pitch a bill on the table. So I'm unfolding everyone bills and facing them in the right direction -- McDonald's habits die hard -- when I get my first glance that what he three down. A single fucking $1 bill. Now to put this in perspective, Trivia Dude has been running trivia there every Saturday for the better part of two years. And again, yes he's compensated for his time, but this is a gesture from one of the longest running teams to just say thanks and we appreciate the time he puts into getting ready for trivia each week.
So I'm holding these bills in my hand, looking at the fucking one dollar bill on the table, and I look up at This Fucking Guy with a 'what the fuck' look on my face. AND HE'S EATING MY FUCKING PIZZA. Literally he is staring me in the face, chewing my fucking pizza, with a single crumpled dolar bill between us. I look down at the dollar bill and then back up at him. I crumple my brow and nod down at the dollar in clear 'what the fuck' fashion. He shrugs his shoulders and from behind a mouthful of MY FUCKING PIZZA garbles out, "DAS AWW EH HAWD." At this point a dozen fucking questions are running through my head, mainly how one could go out to a fucking bar and not being any more cash than a single fucking one dollar bill. Sure I get it, credit cards and whatnot, but c'mon man. A fucking dollar? REALLLLLY?
Now at this point, I'm actually getting a little pissed the fuck off. I mean this goes beyond a greedy pizza grab, this is the express train to CheapMotherfuckersVille. And kids, I hate CheapMotherfuckersVille. This is rude. This is insulting. So I square myself up in my chair so that I'm facing him, and slide my beer glass to one side so that I can lean in across the table and really make sure he hears what the fucking I'm saying because I'm about to tear this cocksucker a new asshole or six. And then I feel The Pinch again. Not a quick catch-and-release like before, but a grab-and-hold this time. And medium grip, not full bore. "No," The Boss Lady says. I shoot her an incredulous look, "But he ju-" "NO." she cuts me off. "Don't make a scene."
Now I know at this stage I know I'm not going to win. Sure, I can push forward with my attack, berate This Fucking Guy for all I'm worth -- justifiably so -- but I'm wise enough know the long term loss won't be worth the short term gain. But at the same time, I'm also wise enough to learn new tricks, and what was the lesson The Boss lady was teaching me? Yes, that's right. Non-verbal communication. And so I didn't say anything after This Fucking Guy reached over and scarfed almost two thirds of my fucking pizza without so much as offering a penny to pay for his dinner. Nor did I say anything when this cheap motherfucker offered a paltry fucking dollar bill to the guy who has been running trivia since it fucking started.
But I did look him straight in the eye, first leaning over to pick up his dollar bill to the growing pile, and again a second time to slowly and deliberately reach across the table and jam my fucking thumb right into what was left of his slice of pizza. I pulled it back and used the now moistened pad to count through the dollar bills. And as I suspected, the pussy didn't have the balls to finish it.
Hi Ernie, Got a fun 360 degree where's waldo game. Best Regards, David
Isn't this a negligent discharge of a firearm, resulting in negligent homiside, if your downrange isn't clear at your illeagle gun range, resulting in someone being shot and killed? Not in Florida I guess. I'm not preaching gun control, but asking why the shooters are not being charged. Jerimy
Dude, your message came through at 7:30am'ish my time, so I'm going to assume you're on the west coast and still drunk. But if you are so fucked up you can't even spell your own name right, I'm honestly and truly impressed. Rule #4 comes into play here; be sure of your target and what's beyond it. Now personally, do I think these two guys deserve charges? I do. Something criminal negligencey, at least. But for something manslaughtery or more, as is stated in the article, "the two men had been taking turns firing the gun and could not see Ramdass, who was behind a vegetation-covered berm, detectives don't know which one of them fired the fatal shot." INALB without knowing for sure the answer to that question, there's no way to charge the culpible person and I would imagine intent would be necessary for the felony murder rule to come into play. All in all, shit deal.
Cosplay is an imperfect art, but the goal is to use ingenuity and creativity to resemble a fictional character as closely as possible. Cosplayers often fall short of exact mimicry, but the fun is in the attempt. Sometimes though, there are eerie similarities, such as the case with these Harley Quinn cosplay ladies.
various ernie locations around the country
HAHAHA you can feel the butthurt
bumpstocks have been around for years
that there is some clear kayaking water
when you need beer but you're already shitfaced
holy shit i think i found scooby doo
1970 Plymouth Road Runner Superbird
this guy sure is serious about vagina
Woman Trades Single Packet of McDonald's Szechuan Sauce for Volkswagen
did someone say london broil?
i have never seen a happier batman
Our Robocop Remake - Scene 27
Russia conducts successful test of Iskander-M Tactical Ballistic Missile
I rescued female duck from dying by blowgun dart.
Snack Time for Bluenjy
sia titty flash of the day
Cameron's Got Some Flowers for You
Hot Babe with Big Boobs
busty outdoor fit redhead
Spanish booty in shorts
|October 18, 2017|
"I lived in China for a couple extended periods of time, and the subject of executions, being near and dear to my cold, right-wing heart, was of particular interest to me because the local execution grounds were right next to the facility I was building.
Every time they had a truckload of prisoners slated for the golden headache pill, the festivities began. A large contingent of green-clad motorcycle outriders, jeeps with more uniformed monkeys, then a truckload of soldiers in the bed, a truck with the lucky contestants, another truck of soldiers, more jeeps and then more cycles, makes a complete pass through town. Every damn one of them with sirens a-screamin' and lights a-flashin'. The procession travels at about 5 mph through town, stopping at every major intersection for 3-5 minutes so that the local citizenry can gawk at their unfortunate brethren who got caught, then continues on to the next intersection.
I gotta add here that the prisoners were all standing up in the bed of the trucks, hands tied behind their backs (couldn't tell if it was cheap Chinese rope or the nicer plastic cuffs the yoo-ess oinkers use, but certainly not handcuffs), facing outward, a scarf tied over their foreheads (never found out the significance of the scarf), and a chalkboard sign hung around their necks with the tale of their exploits written on it. Being gwaylo (that's Chinese for honkey muthafuckah), I couldn't read the chicken-scratchings on the boards, but my assistant would fill me in on what she read after the trucks left.
Our facility was at the last intersection of the usual procession route, so we had a rather unique experience in that we knew, with dead (heh, heh) certainty, every single person we were looking at in the bed of that truck was going to die in a very few minutes. They knew it too. Most `em would have a glassy stare, like they were lookin' right through ya as they shat their jammies, but others had the trapped rat look, eyes darting from side to side, looking, searching, hoping for something, anything, to happen that would/could/might stave off the inevitable. Never happened.
The parade would lurch off after a few minutes and make the turn into the last unpaved road before the river into a copse of woods on the other side of our building site. From the roof of our facility, we could see partially over some of the trees and made out that there was a clearing, probably about 1/2 an acre of ground, and the stack of the crematory just peeking out over the branches. If we timed it correctly, about 25-30 minutes after seeing the trucks stopped out front, we could be on the roof, hiding behind the air-handlers and hear the shots, faint as they were (I think they actually use a .22 for the deed, not the cheesy .32's they wore on their uniforms).
Now, being that we came from a country where executions aren't carried out in such a public fashion, and certainly not with the frequency that we witnessed in China, we rode our interpreters and assistants pretty hard to glean all the gory details. It turns out that the criminal justice system is pretty swift over there (gee, no shit). Trials are held very quickly, and sentencing happens right then and there at the end of the trial if found guilty (about 75% are found guilty, so we were told). There is a review period of several days immediately after the guilty verdict where any appeals may be lodged, but typically the review is a rubber-stamp thing. The prisoners are then housed until a suitable number (a truckload?) can be assembled for the trip out to the edge of town. Makes no difference which gender you happen to be - if found guilty of a capitol crime (prostitution counts here, folks, I shit you not), it's off to the trees with ya. And, NO, the family does NOT pay for the bullet or the cost of the trial. All costs are born by Grandpa (the Chinese equivalent of our Uncle Sam) in the Land of the Iron Ricebowl.
After the prisoners are hauled off the trucks and made to kneel, the officer in charge walks behind them and pops them in the back of the head as he goes down the row. One of the interpreters told us that he understood that each lucky contestant got two slugs apiece, but we couldn't get anybody to confirm this. The families of the condemned are allowed to come and pick up the bodies of papa, sister or brother after the deed, but because of the loss of face associated with having brother Chan or sister Wo executed for slipping a little cash from the till or giving blowjobs to gwaylos, usually opt not to. If a body is not picked up by dusk, they fire up the ovens and do the crispy critter thing with the ashes used for fertilizer.
There ya have it folks. Ain't cultural diversity grand?" --Loflyer
unbelieveable airbus a380 hard crosswind landing during a storm
1966 chevrolet van josie and the pussy cats movie car
How The Soviet Akula Changed Submarine Warfare
redneck floor jack
dinner for two please?
this is dericious
holy rock hard abs batman
U.S. soldiers warn afghanis not to take down taliban flag because it might be booby trapped
well this is going to be awkward
When you just want to drive your rock crawler over your wifes face while shes sleeping
1962 Dodge Power Wagon W200
Vintage Underwater Ejection Training Footage
old pacific southwest airlines planes always looked so happy. before they crashed.
i heard you like blown hemi's yo
Pull the Fire Alarm
Busty blonde babe
Behind the Scenes with Mia Malkova
Sara Sampaio Topless for Lui Magazine!
Abbi Secraa shows off her massive tits
Ebonee Davis Posed Topless!
Now this is one way for Samanta Lily to turn heads
WARNING: this XXX has rendered me absolutely speechless
|October 16, 2017|
So my favorite local craft brewery took a shit this past weekend, so that kind of sucks.
The main difference between paragliding and parasailing is that parasailers are attached to a vehicle, usually a motor boat, that generates enough momentum and connects the parasailers to safety. A paraglider is a free-flying, foot-launched aircraft, while parasailing is a recreational activity where a person is towed behind a vehicle while attached to a specially designed parachute, known as a parasail. There are two types of parasailing: aquatic -- over water where a motorboat is used -- and terrestrial over land towed by a jeep. With a paraglider, you can fly like a bird, soaring upwards on currents of air. Paragliders routinely stay aloft for 3 hours or more, climb to elevations of 15,000', and go cross-country for vast distances.
The Lagunitas Brewing Company is a brewery founded in 1993 in Lagunitas, California, and is known for iconoclastic interpretations of traditional beer styles, and irreverent descriptive text and stories on its packaging. The brewery has long-standing associations with cannabis, which have at times caused legal problems. Some beers have had names associated with the drug, in one case resulting in a name being banned, using the number 420 in internal materials and external advertising, and having a weekly party with cannabis and beer. The use of 420 for marketing and the smoking at parties has stopped for legal reasons.
A towel animal is a depiction of an animal created by folding small towels. Carnival, Norwegian Cruise Lines, Disney Cruise Line, Royal Caribbean, Disney Hotels and Holland America Line cruises will often place towel animals on a patron's bed as part of their nightly turndown service. Towel animals are also appearing in higher-end hotels and resorts such as Grupo Vidanta's Grand Luxxe Residence Clubs in Nuevo Vallarta and Riviera Maya. It is conceptually similar to origami, but uses towels rather than paper. Some common towel animals are elephants, snakes, rabbits and swans. Some creations require the use of multiple towels and at times, hand towels or washcloths.
Hi Ernie, I finally found a rapper I can get into, if F bombs are NSFW then this is NSFW. Regards, Eric
ernie, so how about a de-hurricane story? since the immediate, but not the long term (Nate) threat is over do you use the gas in your cars? drain the water bladder?. unwrap the electronics? use the reserve dog food? drain the gas and put away the gens.? stow the shutters? get back to "normal"? or keep all that stuff ready to go? when do you look around and see no hurricane preparedness, January? or is the threat always hovering? hurrcon 1 vs. full tilt hurrcon 5? Tommy
So what is de-hurricaning like. Hmmm. Well, for starters even though it's the same amount of work, it always seems to go a little easier since there's a feeling of relief instead of dread. Putting the shutters up, you always feel like you're racing the fucking clock. But taking them down means you can take your own sweet fucking time and do things at your own pace. Plus working slowly makes sure you don't let one of the galvanized steel panels slide down your hand and filet your dickbeaters down to the bone. Getting rid of the water bladder was kind of anti-climactic, especially since it had already spring a tiny leak that required a patch of duct tape. Reminder: I paid $35 for three of these things on sale, and now people are trying to fuck you for almost ten times the cost. What a time to be a live, right? The gas is easy, just use that up in the cars. Although I don't have the right funnel now, and when I tried to dump some into my A6 the gas can's nozzle wasn't long enough to push open the little door in the gas filler, and the whole side of my car ended up in big automotive bukkake scene. But thankfully this shit is all coming to an end, since hurricane season ends in just a few weeks with no additional storms in sight. >>knocks on wood<<
Side note, I got into a discussion on the hazards of living in various parts of the country -- hurricanes in the Gulf and Atlantic coasts, tornadoes and flooding in the midwest, earthquakes and wildfires out on the Pacific coast. She lives in SFO said she's never live down here because hurricanes can scatter your shit over three counties. True as that may be, we each have our own crosses to bear, I suppose.
grandmother mistakenly buys inappropriate book for granddaughter without reading it first
remember kids, rape is ok so long as it's been litigated and is in the past
Resident pussybag Turns His Guns Over to Police Following Vegas Shooting
Crocodiles vs GoPro
Would you still eat it?
OKAY BUT WHY?
eye protection from the eclipse
USS utah exposed during low tide
business end of an ac-130 gunship
the ultimate cat lounge
Guy photoshops himself into his childhood photos
Tesla Model X P90D vs BMW M5 F10.. Wait For It!
Bizarre romper suit adorned with the North Korean dictator's face goes on sale for $79.99
Bella Thorne's 20th Birthday Party Photos & Videos
Nela in the Studio
Elena Koshka in Black and Red
Doria A Nude in Nature
Bella Brewer Jaw-Dropping Breasts
|October 13, 2017|
Halloween is upon us, and with it we see all the standard Halloween decorations and symbols – Jack O' Lanterns, scarecrows, etc. Did you ever wonder where these symbols come from? Halloween as we know it today bears little resemblance to either of the Roman harvest festivals it is loosely based on – the feast of Pomona and the festival of Parentalia. Pomona celebrated the apple harvest, while Parentalia honored and placated the deceased spirits of the ancestors.
And with Halloween come costumes so remember kids, the concept of cultural appropriation is the adoption of the elements of one culture by members of another culture. Often unavoidable when multiple cultures come together, cultural appropriation can include using other cultures' traditions, food, fashion, symbols, technology, language, and cultural songs without permission. During Halloween, some people buy and wear Halloween costumes based on racial stereotypes. Costumes that depict blatant racial stereotypes, like "Indian Warrior" or "Kung Fool" are sometimes worn by people who do not belong to the respective corresponding racial or ethnic group.
Dragging a garden hose across the yard is very annoying, difficult, and precarious. If you find yourself in this situation, you may be asking yourself, “Does gardening always have to be this difficult?” The answer, of course, is no! If you are looking to eliminate the difficulty of moving your garden hose around your yard, you will probably want to purchase a garden hose reel. They make hoses and cables operations safe and efficiency. Thereby your hoses will be prolonged the service life of up to five times and the management can be easier. Also you won't get tripped up by hoses laying around, so it saves the lost time, medical costs and the high cost of insurance.
Hi Ernie, Got a handy infographic here with 18 of the best kitchen hacks to make your life easier. Can you post a link to it on Ehowa? Best Regards, David E
Hi Ernie, thought you might include this girl in your site. I think she is hot especially when Arby's opens the front doors. (NSFW) Regards, Eric R
“We live in a society where film will not show a woman's face in orgasm, but they will in abuse.” That potent line is just one of the many thought-provoking subjects covered by Britteney Conner in her spoken word poem “Consent,” performed at the Rustbelt Regional Poetry Slam in Detroit and and posted to Button Poetry. “Consent is not love,” nor does “being in love mean you have to consent.” And perhaps most importantly, “Consent is being able to look your partner in the eye,” she states as she stares directly at the audience. “But more importantly, consent is always being able to look yourself in the eye.” Conner acknowledges that every woman can determine her own comfort level in different scenarios. But her most compelling definition is universal: “Consent is not the absence of a ‘No.'”
Excavation of a buried british Covenanter tank from World War II
Bungling Navy officer accidentally fired a torpedo into a nuclear dockyard while doing maintenance
why you clownin dog?
making Steel Balls: We set up technology center in more than 20 countries around the world
erosion after hurricane irma
he's got a bad poker face
Last Available Residence at Dolores Park's Light House Hits the Market for $6.8 Million
no swimming? suck it, humans.
don't salute, you big dummy
Yacht trying to dock in Monaco at night in very tight gap!
the story of raha's rescue
great breaking bad costumes
crazy bitch in Europe Attacks Man with MAGA Hat
this kid is badass
we ride together, we die together
sexy Random Photos 498
Astrid S on Femjoy in New Here
Lights Caught Braless in See Through Black Dress
The Beach Spy Part 168
Charley Green Park Nudes
Leanne Crow - Pink In The Sheets 2
|October 11, 2017|
One strong memory from my childhood is when my two brothers -- and my cousin Todd who would spend a few weeks with us each year -- painted the family house. The earliest memory I have is the house being light blue, and then my parents decided to paint it light green. In fact, the garage is still painted that color, only with a dark green door. I was just a little kid at the time so I wasn't allowed to go up the ladders, but I remember my brothers (and cousin) climbing way the fuck up into those peaks, shimmying up the ladder one slow cautious step at a time, with a paint brush in one hand and a bucket of paint in the other. And they were what, maybe 15 years old? Try that shit these days and you'll have DSS banging down your door.
Anyway, I had mi casa painted this weekend. It was the original peach flavored paint from when the house was built in 2000 so it was tired as fuck, and had arch-shaped hard water stains from where the sprinklers blasted the side of the house. A friend of a friend paints houses on the side so in the tail end of last week we picked colors, taped shit off, and gots to rolling. Finished up Monday and I don't think it looks half bad; we stuck to neutral colors so if we do put it on the market, it'll appeal to the most buyers. My neighbor gave me some terrific advice, in that if you stick to the colors on the same sample card, you can't go wrong. And it's amazing how differently the color swatches look when viewed inside with artificial light, versus outside in the sun. So now the bulk of the house is wearing two coats of Nearly Brown with Sand Dollar for the trim, and I think we're going to do a few small accent pieces in Kaffee to see if that works.
So yeah, that and drilling new tapcons into my fucking pool cage is how I spent my weekend. I know, fucking crazy, right? I guess this is what the inevitable decay towards death feels like. At least I still have my cane.
Jerome Lester Horwitz, better known by his stage name Curly Howard, was best known member of the American farce comedy team the Three Stooges, which also featured his older brothers Moe and Shemp Howard and actor Larry Fine. Curly was forced to leave the Three Stooges act in 1946 when a massive stroke ended his showbusiness career. One year later, partially recovered and with his hair regrown, Curly made a brief cameo appearance as a train passenger barking in his sleep in the third film after brother Shemp's return, Hold That Lion! (1947). It was the only film that featured Larry Fine and all three Howard brothers -- Moe, Shemp and Curly -- simultaneously; director White later said he spontaneously staged the bit during Curly's impromptu visit to the soundstage: "It was a spur-of-the-moment idea. Curly was visiting the set; this was sometime after his stroke. Apparently he came in on his own, since I didn't see a nurse with him. He was sitting around, reading a newspaper. As I walked in, the newspaper he had in front of his face came down and he waved hello to me. I thought it would be funny to have him do that bit in the picture and he was happy to do it." He suffered through serious health problems and several more strokes until his death five years later, at age 48.
the internment of the japanese wduring world war II
Honest Trailers - Star Trek: The Next Generation
These 12 terrible episodes of Star Trek are everything we love about Star Trek
eating softshell crabs always seemed barbaric to me
a gun is just a tool
boy she sure can pole vault
Father Bird Feeds Baby Parrot After Mother Dies
yeah go ahead and try, fatboy
dogs are so goddamn cute
average rob inserts himself into celebrity photos
yes, real estate prices in san jose seem quite reasonable why do you ask?
ridiculously photogenic dinner
Music festival's ass-eating competition has no winners. sort of NSFW
Milla as Lady Godiva
El Tumblr De Bloodied-babygirl
Bella Thorne See Through in GQ Magazine!
Mercedes Llano - Dreams Big
Marie-Ange Casta's titties... so close yet so far
HORRORPORN - Wild Beast
|October 9, 2017|
And then that feeling of dread when they're over, like when you were a kid making a snow fort on some blusterty winter Sunday, only to remember you have a book report due the next day. This is certainly going to take some getting used to, especially when The Boss lady has four weeks of vacation per year, and I only have one. But ya gotta start somewhere, I suppose.
An range hood is a device containing a mechanical fan that hangs above the stove or cooktop in the kitchen, and removes airborne grease, combustion products, fumes, smoke, odors, heat, and steam from the air by evacuation of the air and filtration. In commercial kitchens exhaust hoods are often used in combination with fire suppression devices so that fumes from a grease fire are properly vented and the fire is put out quickly. Commercial vent hoods may also be combined with a fresh air fan that draws in exterior air, circulating it with the cooking fumes, which is then drawn out by the hood. Although over-the-range microwaves are multitasking space savers, even the best ones can't eliminate smoke, fumes, and steam as well as a dedicated range hood.
Xbox One is a line of eighth generation home video game consoles developed by Microsoft. Announced in May 2013, it is the successor to Xbox 360 and the third console in the Xbox family. It was first released in North America, parts of Europe, Australia, and Brazil in November 2013, and in Japan, China, and other European countries in September 2014. It is the first Xbox game console to be released in China, specifically in the Shanghai Free-Trade Zone. Microsoft marketed the device as an "all-in-one entertainment system". In August 2016, Microsoft released a refreshed Xbox One model, Xbox One S; it has a streamlined design, native support for 4K video playback and upscaling, and HDR10 high-dynamic-range color.
A gender symbol is a pictogram or glyph used to represent either biological sex in either biology, medicine, genealogy or selective breeding, or in sociology, gender politics, LGBT subculture and identity politics. The two standard sex symbols are the Mars symbol for male and Venus symbol for female, derived from astrological symbols, denoting the classical planets Mars and Venus, respectively. They were first used to denote the effective sex of plants -- i.e. sex of individual in a given crossbreed, since most plants are hermaphroditic -- by Carl Linnaeus in 1751. The shape of the Mars symbol has been likened to an iron-tipped spear, a weapon mainly used by men, and shape of the Venus symbol to a bronze mirror or a distaff, both commonly associated with women in the past.
Like other fruits, the coconut has three layers: the endocarp, mesocarp, and exocarp. The endocarp shell has three germination pores that are clearly visible on its outside surface once the husk is removed. The mesocarp is composed of a fiber, called coir, which has many traditional and commercial uses. The exocarp makes up the "husk" of the coconuts, and coconuts sold in the shops of nontropical countries often have had the exocarp removed. The color of the exocarp is also a good indication of ripeness. Immature coconuts that are mostly filled with coconut water are bright green in color. The husk slowly turns to brown as the fruits mature. At peak maturity, when the coconut meat has hardened, the outer husk is solid brown throughout.
Censor bleeps are commonly used on television to indicate that explicit language has been replaced. Unnecessary censorship refers to the practice of adding censor bleeps, mosaic blurs or black bars to source materials that were neither profane or explicit to begin with. The bleeps are typically dubbed over words to make it sound as if they were explicit. Mosaic blurs and black bars are placed over people, objects, or text to make it appear as if they are covering up pornographic or explicit material.
The pooch fell 20 feet down to a 2-foot wide ledge. rescues by Wolfe County Search and Rescue Team
Dr. Seuss Museum To Replace Mural After Complaints Of Racist 'Mulberry Street' Illustration
the stallion that will mount the world
workout motivation with awesome Jennifer Tavernier Ninja style
UNLV prof blames Las Vegas massacre on Trump
Ferris Wheel Worker Falls While Saving Trapped Kids
Tattoo Randomness Picdump 22
one hell of a barn find
awesome TMNT dog costume
awesome fetch bro
every vintage dodge commercial rolled into one single video
Elephants Rescued From Deep Well in sri lanka
horizontal Log splitter Splitmaster 35 Spezial Posch
coyote pup trapped when his den collapsed
Sexy Pattycake cosplay as Psylocke
some greek chick
Hot Blonde Amateur GF
Sexy Amateur Brunette
the battle of kayla kiss
|October 6, 2017|
Well, it's a one-two-three punch kind of answer. First punch, the ankle. Which of course I broke late in June of last year, right in the middle of the calendar year. Now without going on some The-Affordable-Care-Act-Ain't-Really-Fucking-Affordable-At-All rant, suffice to say that our annual max-out-of pocket limits skyrocketed from $1,500 to $5,000 per year. As one might imagine, an emergency room visit, an orthopedic surgery, and several weeks of physiotherapy quickly launched to and beyond that ceiling. Unfortunately, there was the post-operative infection which required further intervention and unfortunately that wasn't discovered until January of this year, and unfortunately that means the annual out max-out-of pocket limit had rolled over. So that second orthopedic surgery, along with the PICC line procedure ($4,500 for that motherfucker alone!) and six weeks of IV antibiotics once again punched us up to the $5k limit before April Fools Day. So in short order, ye olde ankle racked up a hair over $10,000 in medical bills, *after* insurance. Also, for scale, here's the length of the PICC line which delivered those antibiotics directly to my heart at fucking point blank range. Good times, right?
Second punch, drop in income. The months that followed said ankle break, were pretty tough for Team Stewart. The first few weeks, immediately before and after surgery, were spent in an oxycodone haze, laying flat on the couch with my leg over the back of the couch, elevating my ankle above my heart. I would wake up long enough for The Boss Lady to jam another pill and half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich down my throat, before slumping back off into never never land. Now on the plus side, hey I lost weight because I wasn't awake enough to eat! But on the down side, I wasn't able to post any real updates -- which I need to do in order to earn the paper and keep a roof over my head. Now you'd like to think that if put in such a situation, you'd be able to rig up some sort of Denzel Washington type shit, but in reality that's just a pipe dream. I tried sitting at my computer desk and with my ankle down low and the blood rushing to it, it was fucking murder. So you lift it up on the desk and then you're in such an awkward position you can't actually do anything. So you try laying back on the couch with a laptop or TBL's Surface Pro, and yeah you can manage to bang a few keys for novelty's sake, it wasn't anywhere near conducive to getting actual work done. Now later on I was able to back date some posts and give the appearance of continuity, but in reality the sites grew stale and web traffic (and the revenue it generates) suffered dramatically. Not to mention that during that initial period, I couldn't get back to new people looking to advertise, and so it didn't take long before numbers really started to sag. Now we've somewhat been on the road to recovery in that regard, but much like respect, site traffic is quick to lose and slow to gain.
Third punch, Hurricane Irma. Twelve fucking years I've lived here without hurricanes causing any serious shit. Twelve fucking years! But my luck ran out this year. And as I previously detailed, when a narmed storm goes rolling through your county -- e.g. Hurricane Fucking Irma -- your homeowners's insurance deductible jumps from the standard $1,000 to a certain percentage based upon the number of hurricane protections your house has. When I first moved down here, my hurricane deductible was 15% of my home's insured value because it didn't have hurricane shutters. Think about that for a second. A $100,000 house becomes a $15,000 deductible. A $200,000 house becomes a $30,000 deductible. That shit adds up fast, right! Now the lowest of the low hurricane deductibles (1%) are for brand new homes with impact windows and doors, roofing straps every 6 inches, using 12d versus 8d nails, and a shit ton of other code changes that have happened over the last decade. After having hurricane shutters installed, I'm somewhere towards the low'ish middle of the pack, and my hurricane deductible is $6,500. Hurricane Irma caused $6,050 worth of damage, meaning it's all out of pocket.
Now it wasn't too long ago that I read a few articles highlighting how most Americans have less than $1,000 in the bank and are woefully unprepared to deal with emergencies. I am thankful to not consider myself a member of that group. I made hay while the sun was shining and Present Ernie is very grateful to Past Ernie for having the foresight to set aside a decent hunk of that hay. So I could handle any one of these three financial stressor and really be no worse for wear. After all, that's what Past Ernie's rainy day money is for, right? Even when life decided to step up its game by adding the second problem to the mix, we were still okay. Had to make some concessions of course; cut down on going out, haven't bought any new guns in a while, that sort of thing. But we always knew all we had to do was weather the storm and things would slowly get back to normal. But, then. Irma came along and kind of flipped the Monopoly board upside down and scattered shit everywhere.
In short, juggling medical bills was not a problem. Juggling medical bills while making less money was challenging, but still doable. But juggling medical bills while making less money and having to pay for a shit ton of hurricane repairs around the house -- plus in all honesty the house is in desperate need of painting, so add $$ to that -- was quickly proving to be, well, more challenging that one could reasonably be prepared for. And so there are two schools of thought when one find themselves in thie type of situation. One, do nothing, passively stick my head in the sand and hope things resolve themselves. For more on this, see Subprime Mortgage Crisis of 2007-2010. Or two, I actively take steps to better the situation by supplementing my income. Now do I really want to go back to working for someone else? Uhhhh, nope. I mean after twelve years of financial independence, who the hell honestly would, right? But since I am a big boy and wear big boy pants, there's really only one choice to make. And so... timeclock.
Saw this & thought you might like it and/or post it. Peter van Uhm is the Netherlands' chief of defense on Why I Chose a Gun. Rod (PS, if you ever get back to San Antonio, I owe ya beer)
Hi Ernie, Got a handy infographic here with 18 of the best kitchen hacks to make your life easier. Best Regards, David E
Her tattoo reads, "Scars are just another kind of memory." Unfortunately, I've lots of memories. Skip from G.R.
Yeah, the huge fucking scar on my ankle sure is a memory I'd like to forget. Unfortunately, it reminds me of my escapades every morning when I get out of bed and walk like a damaged model T-800. It loosens up after about ten minutes and I walk more or less normally from then on out, but it's still a pain in the ass. I'm just thankful I'm not up north, where I hear horror stories about people's joints aching before drastic weather changes.
Borat! Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan is a 2006 British-American mockumentary comedy film written and produced by British comedian Sacha Baron Cohen who also plays the title character, Borat Sagdiyev, a fictitious Kazakh journalist travelling through the United States recording real-life interactions with Americans. Borat official debut was at the Ryerson University Theatre during the Toronto International Film Festival in 2007. Baron Cohen arrived in character as Borat in a cart pulled by women dressed as peasants. Twenty minutes into the showing, however, the projector broke. Baron Cohen performed an impromptu act to keep the audience amused, but ultimately all attempts to fix the equipment failed. The film was successfully screened the following night, with Dustin Hoffman in attendance, and the film helped popularize the term "mankini". Can you find where that Borat worshiper was walking?
a cow and bear love story
Tools of a madman: Leaked pictures of the weapons used in the Las Vegas massacre
and they say romance is dead
makes you think, doesn't it?
say what you want, this kid's got stones
you know you live in the hood when...
custom digital dungeons and dragons table lets you play in 4k
now that is one big snook
Automated Lamb Boning System 2013
aerial refueling of helicopters has always amazed me
Blade Install On Wind Tower With 18000 - HD Zoomed Drone Footage
aw let the man save his beer
and what do we say to death? not today.
soooo... batgirl then?
footage of a house in puerto rico when the river overflowed it's banks.
the very best of modi
A Trio of Hotties at the Pool
Viola O Fishnet Skinztease
AileenFoxter Busty Webcam
Blair Williams - Healthy Activities
Aymeline Valade Braless with a Totally See Through Blouse On
Busty MILF (Lazy Holiday Day)
|October 4, 2017|
In my past life before my past life, I worked at a place called FCP Technologies and we were, in the plainest of terms, the help desk to help desks. When something went wrong with your shit, you called your help desk. When the problem extended beyond their technical expertise, they would call us. Presuming of course, they bought this ridiculously expensive support contract beforehand. But you'd be connected with the software or hardware engineer best suited for your particular problem and with very -- VERY -- few exceptions, the buck stopped with us. Those few exceptions of course would usually bring us to the vendors themselves -- Microsoft, Novell, Compaq/HP, and of course my beloved Banyan.
But behind the scenes -- at least in regards to hardware issues -- was a humble, and I suppose a little socially awkward, man named Andrew. He ran our parts warehouse. Well, not warehouse per se, more like a parts room, but the net effect was the same. If your customer had an issues that needed hardware, your case wasn't going to get fixed without Andrew's help. Need a replacement hard drive? Go see Andrew. Need ten hard drives? Go see Andrew. Need help identifying what part number replaced this part number? Need parts delivered anywhere in the fucking country, in under four fucking hours, day or night? Go see Andrew. Need an array of parts because you're not sure what the fuck is wrong but you know it's hardware? Go. See. Andrew.
And when you did go see Andrew, he was always kind of surprised that one of us wandered back to see him. It was unlike the time when me, a lowly shitheel of an E3 with my face buried in an old Zenith Z-100 and out of the corner of my eye I saw two patent leather shoes walk into the room. "Be with you in just a second," I said, not bothering to look up from the fucking MFM connector I was trying to grab onto. And when I did look up, I could not take my eyes off of the three fucking stars on Lieutenant General Gordon E. Fornell's shoulder boards. I was just kind of humbled, and shy, and defenseless, and that's the way Andrew always looked when we, the high and fucking mighty engineers, went back to see him looking for assistance with a part.
But looking back, I see now that Andrew was one of the most under appreciated members of our team. See, we were *engineers*. We were bad asses. We dealt directly with the customer. We got servers back up and running. We fixed email for entire corporations. We solved problems that brought enterprise level networks to their knees. And while we could accomplish all of these things by ourselves in a software level event, if hardware came into the mix none of that shit would happen without Andrew's help. But regardless of which way that axe fell, we the glorious engineers, got all of the fame and glory. Andrew was just the slightly odd guy behind the scenes, outside of the limelight, trapped in his little office amongst the 500 different boxes.
And while no one of our team were ever rude to Andrew, or treated him with any disrespect, I do think all of us pitied him to some degree. The fact of the matter was, we were higher on the food chain and one might argue Andrew existed solely to serve us. So while we were the people out there reaping the benefits of our work, and despite our complete and utter reliance upon his support, we were somehow pompous enough to think less of him because he wasn't one of us. We got recognition during quarterly awards, and big fat bonuses, and "take a few days off," while Andrew got, "oh hey, thank man."
It's pretty absurd now that I look back at it, and intentional or not, I regret any grand notions of superiority. So this morning I tip my hat to you, Andrew. Some well deserved respect and admiration. Late, but believe me, no less deserved. Nothing we accomplished could happen without your hustle and dedication behind the scenes. I see that now, and I'm embarrassed I didn't see it sooner.
Also, I've decided to start writing more. Perhaps updating a little less often, but more honest and raw. I mean I'll still ask you for your help with telling me what a tattoo reads, but otherwise getting back to my roots, so to speak. I hope that's ok with you. And maybe one of these days I'll get up the courage to tell you about Michael Lerzak.
100 Greatest Movie Gadgets Of All Time
just click it bro
earn your masters in urban renewal today!
Animal relief: Philippine Soldier gives dog his lunch
quit clowning, dog.
yes, i bet they are best sellers
Listen live to meteors radio echoes
JS Abernathy Dental - Laser Dentistry Star Wars Spoof
somehow i see kevin kostner saying goo wombats!
Evidence of an attempted hit and run
what a severe case of the chickenpox
I dropped my phone on the roller coaster. And I was lucky!
The story behind the crash of United Airlines flight 232
Train Conductor Goes Full Speed Through Flooded Station Soaking Commuters
Huntington Beach Police Officer Shooting Man Outside 7-Eleven
25 Pics of Horny, Amateur Women
the best of rick
Bethany Burke Trying on Bras
Hot Teen Babe
Niemira nude on the beach
The Beach Spy Part 167
Sexting Naughty Photos the Sapphic Teacher
|October 2, 2017|
A lanyard is a cord or strap worn around the neck, shoulder, or wrist to carry such items as keys or identification cards. In the military, lanyards were used to fire an artillery piece or arm the fuze mechanism on an air-dropped bomb by pulling out a cotter pin (thereby starting the arming delay) when it leaves the aircraft. Aboard a ship, it may refer to a piece of rigging used to secure or lower objects. Lanyards of various color combinations and braid patterns are worn on the shoulders of uniforms to denote the wearer's qualification or regimental affiliation. In horse regiments, lanyards were worn on the left, enabling a rider to pull a whistle from the left tunic pocket and maintain communication with his troop. Members of the British Royal Artillery wear a lanyard which originally held a key for adjusting the fuzes of explosive shells.
The Bear Republic Brewing Company is an American microbrewery located in Cloverdale, California, USA. It was established by the Norgrove family in 1995, with Richard G. Norgrove as brewmaster. The name is said to refer to California's 1846 Bear Flag Revolt. In 2006, Bear was named Small Brewing Company and Small Brewing Company Brewer of the Year at the Great American Beer Festival. Bear's best-selling product is Racer 5 India Pale Ale which accounted for about three-quarters of the company's 2009 sales. Their other brews include Big Bear Black Stout, Hop Rod Rye, and Green House Lager, a Czech-style pilsner.
Balcony seating is always very popular, especially in parts of the country where the temperatures are nice and cool. Since I know my chances of getting a table out on a balcony are slim to none with walk-ins, can you find where I should call ahead to reserve some balcony dining?
The art and craft of carpet weaving has gone through periods of decline during times of political unrest, or under the influence of commercial demands. It particularly suffered from the introduction of synthetic dyes during the second half of the nineteenth century. Carpet weaving still plays a major part in the economy of modern Iran. Modern production is characterized by the revival of traditional dyeing with natural dyes, the reintroduction of traditional tribal patterns, but also by the invention of modern and innovative designs, woven in the centuries-old technique. Hand-woven Persian carpets and rugs were regarded as objects of high artistic and prestige from the first time they were mentioned by ancient Greek writers.
Ernie, I recognized that ox piss Steinberg Clasica as soon as the image popped up. We used to drink that shit by the caseload when we were off duty way back when there was a West Germany. It was French and we thought we were cool. Stay safe and what's with this job talk? Gary
It's a russian beer, translation? Klinskoe, arriva "green and silver can" is the same beer? RJ
Well this seems like an odd time, but can you show me where she chose to get a shy all of a sudden?
Loving v. Virginia is a landmark civil rights decision of the United States Supreme Court, which invalidated laws prohibiting interracial marriage. The case was brought by Mildred Loving, a black woman, and Richard Loving, a white man, who had been sentenced to a year in prison in Virginia for marrying each other. Their marriage violated the state's anti-miscegenation statute, the Racial Integrity Act of 1924, which prohibited marriage between people classified as "white" and people classified as "colored". The Supreme Court's unanimous decision determined that this prohibition was unconstitutional, overruling Pace v. Alabama (1883) and ending all race-based legal restrictions on marriage in the United States.
coloring book corruptions
Air France A380 super jumbo makes emergency landing in Canada after engine disintigrates at 37,000ft over the Atlantic
Funeral home offers cremation with retired flags to veterans
this costume is trippy as fuck
dogs are just awesome
get in loser we're doing cool shit today
hey keep an eye out for that loose nail
VIDEO: Two Cops Shot In Gunfight With Homicide Suspect – Shooter Gets Turned Into Human Sprinkler
California student steals 'MAGA' hat, pleads for wearer to be punished in bizarre rant
this is a true fucking statement
Proud widow keeps husband's 8ft cock bush alive five years after his death
People Are Locking Up Dozens Of Dogs To Farm Them For Their Blood
all the other dogs played in the park, this dog read a book with his human
Lake Ozark bar criticized for NFL jersey doormat seen as racist
jeopardy for white people
taylor vixen warming up
Ilona Smet See Through At The Etam Show Of The Day
Carne Amateur: Yesmrwilliams
lauren on femjoy down the right track
Roxanne Pallett Topless and Reading at the Beach!