Ashamed to know you all

I'm pretty sure if you look up "truth" in the dictionary, the definition will include something about "fact." Maybe different connotations... or even different meanings from a philosophical perspective. But I think in the context of a discussion about media and our current "alternative facts" and "fake news" society, those differences don't drive the argument.

 

Yup--I did it on purpose to wake all you morons up. You are getting boring, as am I.
Need to go back to the usual hate postings. All the former players are actually back....why change??

 

^ nice try

Matter of perspective right? Your truth lol!

 

I'm a liar; don't doubt my sincerity...

 

Yes, grasshopper--you are ready to leave the temple.

 

^ my question was Rhetorical with a hint of sarcasm...

You took Kidde's original comment out of context. This is not the first time you were painted in a corner and tried to escape with "I did it on purpose".

But, it was a fun exercise, even if you were goofing off!!!

 

BTW, if Chavez craps in the woods does anyone smell it?

cracked me up with those comments CyC!

 

If Chavy craps in the woods it's because the law is on his tail.

 

If obama is painted while pooping, does the painting stink?

 

Painted me into a corner. You are hallucinating that.
And every thing I post here is "on purpose", no accident.
This whole site is a "goof off". You are a moron, and so am I; we are all morons, otherwise, we would not be posting here. Now THAT!!! is a TRUTH!!!!! if ever there be one.....

 

o barry

 

#unabomberstylee

 

"I always tell the truth, even when I lie." - Tony Montana

 

Here's a real "message" with a Happy Ending:

Dear Connie,

I know the counsellor said we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period but I couldn't wait anymore.

The day you left, I swore I'd never talk to you again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking bad anymore.I don't care who makes the first move as long as one of us does. Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt.

This is what my heart says: "There's no one like you, Connie." I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close.

Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an ass that just wouldn't quit. Every man's dream, right?

As I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important in our lives. It's all so superficial. Wht does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that before. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little.

Later, after I tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. I didn't feel the same because you weren't there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie. I'm going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.

Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next think you know, we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She's giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight or her career or whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad, too because I can't help thinking, "why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on the floor?" We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex toy."

Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicki's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during this painful time. She's giving me a lot of good advice about you and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.

So we're doing Jell-O shots in the hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.

Otherwise, can you let me know where the freaking remote is?

Love, Dan.

 

First half of video = A Chavez dream come true.

 

we need more stories like this

 

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