I’m just thinking a true homie wouldn’t want his other homies to be pouring out liquor upon his death. But, then again, perhaps the truest homies would do it anyway.
fvpl asked: Seinfeld, NBA best to things ever!
Life is complicated, but you just described it pretty succinctly.
Teenaged analogues of Miss Scarlet (the princess), Colonel Mustard (the athlete), Mrs. White (the criminal), Mrs. Peacock (the basket case), Professor Plum (the brain), and Mr. Green (…the gay FBI agent??) meet in the library for detention with Assistant Principal Boddy.
When Mr. Boddy turns up dead, the attractive teens must discover themselves before they can discover the killer (along with what weapon was used and where the crime occurred, naturally). Dancing, drug use, and intense discussions on psychological trauma ensue.
Audiences are simultaneously inspired, thrilled, and having thoughts provoked in their minds while throwing all their money at the production studio.
As a pedestrian, using crosswalks is a good way to get yourself killed. Not using them is a great way.
I’d probably make more booty calls if I weren’t on a pay-per-minute plan with my cellular provider. I just don’t think I could present a convincing argument before the minute rolls over and, at that point, I’m really putting myself on the line.
Anonymous asked: NBA cool dudes is your blog?
Yep. A bit unrelated to that question, but I follow everyone who follows NBA Cool Dudes so no one should feel obligated to follow back this one. It’s all goofs.
To combat my most recent bout of crippling loneliness, I’ve spent the last few weeks hitting the singles scene. You know, bars, clubs, parks; that whole deal. While I’m doing this, I usually hang back smoking two cigarettes at the same time in hopes of getting noticed. I’d say the results thus far are inconclusive. Anyway, I’ve gotten used to all the tar, but the expense is killing me.