Mr.EPluribus — Git’ with the G.A.P. (updated)
A President wiser than I (and the exact opposite in terms of being faithful to his wife) once asked not what your country can do for you, rather what can you do for your country. Well, how about it U.S.A.? Care to talk the talk, walk the walk … and sign the sign?
I’m also OK with this option:
So I guess you’re going to claim you “borrowed” the orange, prison jump suit from a “friend,” and it’s not a left-over from your time in L.A. County after that incident with the Girl Scout troop, the cool-whip and the llamas.
The llamas were there when I got to the party, man.
Maybe, but they weren’t wearing lipstick and chaps until you showed up.
That’s the way I like my llamas, brutha. You used to as well. What happened to you?
One too many Mondays lathering on aloe vera to treat that burning rash that only cheap, pleather chaps can inflict. And then trying to explain to the wife why there are Samoa and Do-si-do crumbs all over the carpet of the mini-van.
What no thin mints?
DOC has been looking for prisoner 80108 for weeks.
Good perspective, Eric.
I’d be happy to adopt one of the Gitmo prisoners, Eric. I can’t promise that I won’t lock him up in my basement and treat him so badly that he’ll be begging to go back to Gitmo, but hey, at least he’s out of the taxpayers’ hair.
No panties on their heads and no waterboarding, Jimmy!!!
That’s okay, Fritz. I can put the panties on places other than their heads, and I’m sure they’d still look real purty.
I won’t go into any more details, except to say that if I get caught, I’m sure the Cannes Film Festival Jury and Whoopi Goldberg will defend my actions.
Make sure you play them the Meow Mix song, that or some Nine Inch Nails…I hear they LOVE that stuff.
Almost the season for dogs barking Christmas songs. Double the hittin’ ‘em where it hurts.
I say we give them to Sherrif Joe.
Eric…buddy…why Muscle Beach, and in a prison uniform? What actually happened before and after taping? Lots of questions and no answers. I fear for you.
Excellent piece, by the way!!!
That’s the wonderful thing, Fritz, llamas tell no tales. And a good shearing ensures all DNA and matted wool gets turned into hats, scarves and booties. Nothing for the CSI folks to put in a petri dish.
“Casa d’Ice.” Sounds like my kind of place. There used to be an “Ice House” in Dallas I frequented.
One of Western PA’s finer establishments. More than offsets “Fightin’” Jack Murtha’s residence.
It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!
C’mon, BO, I could stand to lose about 15-20, but I’m not that big … am I?