#Joshwith pedo stache full

Even my usual fall-back of the History Channel lineup turned out to be a bust, as I had seen all those shows just a week or two ago. No, I was lethargic, hardly wishing to move from my chair as I purviewed the lame listings on 100 or so channels. Well, actually, I suppose just putting the final touches on this month's entry in the Blogging for Books contest was something, but the majority of that completely original story was actually written yesterday afternoon. Today was one of those slow lazy days when you get hardly anything done you expected to have completed. I do suddenly find myself craving a Scooby-snack. I could almost envision them surrounding a green felt table playing a few rounds of cards. I could actually distinguish different dogs, who seemed to be taking turns, as if conversing. It was so unlike the normal barkathon that goes on regularly, where the barking is raucous and follows the path of whatever irritant is moving around the neighborhood, whether that be children on scooters, stray dog, or prowling tomcat. I could almost have sworn that all the dogs in the neighborhood were shooting the breeze. It was very quiet except for a perceived conversation that floated on the thick humid air. I was sitting in the chair with my eyes closed, wondering why no further comments have come in on that neat little story I posted a day or so ago and, likewise, trying to come up with some idea what I could put down for this report. one of those pre-summer days when the weather is getting a bit sultry yet still too early in the year for the air to be filled with buzzing bugs. On behalf of my navel, I like to say goodnight Gracie. I also never pinched a bridesmaid's butt but that is a whole other story and a very boring one at that. I really think it fits me well, don't you? I mean, I am always the butt never the bridesmaid.

#Joshwith pedo stache full

However, I got me a full color picture of Bart Simpson's butt right in the middle of my forehead. I got a brand spanking new tattoo and my head hurts like a ch eee double hockey sticks. It was twisting my arm pretty hard and threatening to tell about some the skeletons in that hidden closet behind my refrigerator. Well, my navel was putting pressure on me to do something a bit different than my friend's idea. My Friend was chattering on about how sexy I'd look with this tattoo or that tattoo, you know how some people's mouths just run on and on.

It seems my friend and I were waiting in line to go see this artsy fartsy cinematic what-cha-ma-call-it (not all that great, in my opinion, but that is a whole other story all together) and happened to be standing right in front of one of them tattoo/piercing salons. A little back story first before I give ya the 411 on the whole skinny. I guess I might just be a wild and crazy guy.