“The Camaro is a big tranny mess getting ready for a night on the piers.”
And maybe I’m wrong, but I think you’d be hard pressed to find a straight guy who wouldn’t want to fuck a dude, so long as he was this wickedly good looking, magnetic to all who entered his orbit, able to rip off a sub-5-second 0-60 time, and had some boobs.
The Great American Challenge is the world’s biggest dildo. It’s 15 inches from tip to base, has an “insertable” length of 10.5 inches, a diameter of approximately three inches at its meatiest, and weighs nearly five pounds when loaded up with the batteries that control its vibrating mechanism. Why do I mention this, aside from my contractual obligation work a penile reference into every single review? Because I recently spent some time with the Dodge Challenger, and in addition to some rather obvious nomenclatural similarities—the car is American, and has the word Challenge inserted 10.5 inches into its name—it reminded me of this tool in a number of different ways: They both come in a range of indiscreet, but oddly compelling, colors. They’re both styled and proportioned so as to evoke an aura of power, raunch, seduction, and terror in near equal measures. Each is significantly larger than a two-liter bottle of Sprite. And they’re both far more appealing to look at than to actually use. (Also, ownership of either one is guaranteed to elicit accusations of overcompensating.)
Just watched the VMA’s. I dislike Kanye even more than I did before. Three good performances: Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, and Pink. I really liked Pink’s performance, if only for the hot guy with her. I’m liking Beyonce more now, that was nice reintroduction for Taylor Swift.
I’m also really looking forward to New Moon. I got all caught up on the Sookie Stackhouse series, so I re-read the Twilight series. I’m amazed at how a poor author (Charlaine Harris) can keep me interested. I remember reading the Twilight series and thinking Stephenie Meyer needed a better editor. Now after the second reading I can appreciate how much better that series is. HBO has done a great job turning Harris’ books into a TV show.
I attempted to purchase a car today. I first called Markquart Scion (my local dealer) and was appalled by the attitude of the saleswoman I spoke with. After a very unsuccessful phone call, I called Inner Grove Scion. I spoke with a very helpful woman named Bridget. While her dealership did not have the vehicle I wanted in stock, she did check area dealerships and found one that did. She gave me the contact information for Tom Kennedy at another dealership (I can’t remember the dealer’s name). I left a message with him at ten o’clock this morning and as of 8 o’clock this evening I have yet to receive a call back.
I am very disappointed because today was the last day for “Cash for Clunkers”, and I am now unable to take advantage of this program. I am amazed that I received acceptable service at only one of the three Scion dealerships that I called. If this is what I can expect from the shopping experience from Scion/Toyota/Lexus, I can safely say that my money will be spent elsewhere. I will also be sure to share today’s experience with my friends and family.
Based on your score:
LoveGame. You know that being you’re fully committed to your quest for fame doesn’t mean you can’t take a detour here and there to find the perfect disco stick to ride. Your ass has been squeezed by sexy cupid, so your mission to take over the world one sequin at a time unashamedly includes healthy doses of both glamour and heavy touching.
"Being gay is somehow an indulgent choice? It infuriates me. You're either Graham Norton or George Michael getting arrested in parks and I'm neither of those things. I think it appeals to the lowest common denominator that basically there are two types of gay men, the slut, or there's the straight acting guy. Neither of these things have anything to do with penises, or cocks in mouths or any of the things that are related to being gay."
- Former Savage Garden lead singer Darren Hayes, speaking to Gay Times magazine about gay stereotypes on television.
So, I was driving home tonight thinking about music, and this entry. I was thinking death metal would be good for my mood, but as I was selecting I realized something much softer and friendlier would be much better. Then the thought continued that death metal would not be a good choice of words.
Tonight, we decided to put Callaway down, to sleep, what is the best choice of words for that? Made me a lot sadder than I have been in a long time. As I took her out for the last walk of the night, my eyes started watering. I decided I needed to think of something completely different to get my mind off it and to clear up my eyes. Guess what subject I picked, porn.
So we need to call the vet and schedule the time. I need to decide if I want to be there when it happens. This would be so much easier if her mind were gone. To see her so alert and happy, but realize that her body can no longer cope is just so sad.
It is hard to drive and blow your nose at the same time. I settled on resting my forearms on the steering wheel and leaning into my hands.
For those wondering, I settled on the latter half of the soundtrack to Twilight. And no, I did not proofread this entry.
The Experian saga continues. I hate that fucking company. How can they be so fucking stupid? Why does anyone trust the information they collect? Why does this shit happen to me? How can I default on loans before I'm born? How can I have multiple social security numbers? The number of problems goes on, and on, and on...