Have Cleveland Browns Fans Been Screwed Again?

Cleveland Browns fans are very worried over recent events at the Flying J Corporation which is owned by team owner Jimmy Haslam.  Everyone is concerned about just how much trouble this is going to cause the team.  So let’s review what has happened so far.

News Item:  FBI and IRS agents raid and “lock down” Flying J headquarters in Tennessee, citing issues regarding unpaid rebates.

(Now at first I thought I may have caused the problem since I had recently complained about the Flying J.  A few weeks ago the clerk at the Flying J had refused to give me my tenth cup of coffee free after I bought my first nine.  He was from Florida and he claimed that there was a hanging chad on my sixth cup and thus the card showed that I had bought eight previous cups, not nine.  However, the Feds said that the problem had to do with diesel fuel rebates, so I was off the hook.  But Jimmy wasn’t.)

In Response Jimmy Sez: This is just a little bitty misunderstanding.  Nothing to see here.  There are no rebate problems and I don’t even know about any rebates, so there are no problems. 

"I got your rebate right here" 

News Item: Everybody knew about the rebate program, including Jimmy.

In Response Jimmy Sez: Oh, you mean that rebate program.  I thought you were referring to some other rebate program that I of course knew nothin’ about.  Yeh there is a rebate program, but there are absolutely no problems with it.

News Item: Flying J employees say the rebate program was used to cheat and defraud customers.  Rebates were promised to customers but were not paid if not requested. They said workers commonly used the terms “jacking the customer” and “screwing the customer” in referring to the rebate program.

 In Response Jimmy Sez: I ain’t quitin’.

To be fair, many customers at truck stops get jacked and screwed every day.  Of course this happens in the parking lot by independent contractors practicing the world’s oldest profession.  The big difference between these ladies and Flying J, is that at least they are screwing their customers honestly.  I also doubt if they offer any rebates.

"No, we don't offer any rebates, but we are
running a 2 for 1 special"

The Browns claim that the controversy will not affect the team one bit, but you know this is not true.  For example, instead of preparing all weekend for the upcoming NFL draft, CEO Joe Banner had to go to Dillard’s to shop for new underwear.  He reported blew out most of his pairs last week.  Coach Chud and Mike Lombardi also had a few “brown outs”.

The NFL is very concerned about the situation.  The owners don’t like it if you get a speeding ticket; an FBI raid is a major faux pas.  They are now extremely suspicious of a proposal that the Browns sent the league office a few weeks ago.  Reportedly the idea was to have opposing teams credit the Browns 15 points at the beginning of every game and then Cleveland would rebate the points back at the end of the game if needed.  Of course if the other team failed to ask for the rebate, lost their rebate form, or failed to fill out the form correctly and include the receipt, the Browns would keep the points.  If this rebate program was in place during the 2012 season and opponents failed to collect their rebates, the Browns would have finished 14-2.

We do now know why Haslam wanted to buy the Cleveland Browns and not another NFL team.  The Browns fans, customers of the team, are used to getting “jacked” and getting “screwed”.  We’ve been jacked and screwed so much, we hardly even mind anymore.

How much trouble are Browns fans in this time?  We will know that things are extremely messed up if we hear these words Thursday night:

“With the sixth pick in the NFL draft, the Cleveland Browns select Defense Attorney Marvin Kammish, Harvard Law School”.

Mel Kiper:  Wow, what a great choice, Kammish finished third in the class of 1993 and is great at blitzing the prosecution ….. 

A Tribute To Tim Richardson

My brother-in-law Tim Richardson (age 47) passed away very unexpectedly on April 2.  The following are the series of my Facebook postings surrounding the event.  I know they don’t belong on a humor blog, but I need to record this for posterity and this is the only place I have to post it.  You may consider this Ake’s pain, so in an odd way it almost fits.

The News (April 2, 2013)

"The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind side you at 4 PM on some idle Tuesday." Today (a Tuesday) at around 3 p.m. my wife called to tell me that her youngest brother, Tim Richardson, had unexpectedly passed away. It would be difficult to know a finer person or to have a better brother-in-law. Heavy grieving.

The Pain

I apologize to my family for not being able to offer any comments of support or condolences at this time. I hurt, I just hurt, so incredibly bad .....

The Tributes

Tim on a recent missions trip

#1 - Tribute to my brother-in-law Tim Richardson who passed away Tuesday: Last year Tim and I served as pallbearers at his father’s military funeral. There are strict rules on handling the casket and they asked for two volunteers from the pallbearers to assist with the closing of the casket. I immediately volunteered. I really did not want anything to do with closing anyone’s casket, but I didn’t want Tim to have to go through that with his own father. I was relieved when someone behind me immediately raised their hand also. That was until I turned around and saw the other volunteer was Tim. I pulled him aside and strongly protested. “You do not have to do this. You should not have to do this”, I said sternly. “It’s okay, I want to do this”, he said calmly. That ended the argument because I was totally speechless. He wanted to do that? Who wants to do that? I don’t want to do that for a stranger, let alone a parent. Yet Tim saw that as a responsibility and actually wanted to fulfill it.

#2 - A Tribute to my brother-in-law Tim Richardson who passed away April 2: In February 2012 the family was jammed into a crowded hospital waiting room because my father-in-law was critically ill. A person carrying food to another family spilled half a cup of ice on the floor. Most of the ice fell harmlessly on the carpet, but a couple pieces fell on the tile walkway where we were gathered, thereby creating a safety hazard. I was seated against the wall and the ice was close to where Tim was standing.

I pointed to the ice and told Tim to kick the cubes back onto the carpet. Instead of doing that, Tim picked up the ice on the tile and then proceeded to pick up every other piece of ice on the carpet and throw them in the trash. Once again I was just amazed by this act. Unbelievably, the other family was offended that he had cleaned up their mess!

Some people never seem to do what is required in life. I guess I try to get by doing just what is required. Tim was exceptional because he tried to do more than what was required, even when under stress in a hospital waiting room.

#3 – A tribute to Tim Richardson, my brother-in-law, who passed away April 2: Two years ago I adopted a new philosophy: I want to live my life in such a way that people cry at my funeral. Easy to say, hard to do. Some days I do accomplish this, most days I fail. 

 I never thought about what the scene might look like if a person was actually able to live a life that cherished. But now I know, because last Friday night I sat by myself in the corner of a funeral home and watched intently as the line of mourners moved past the casket. I have never been in the presence of so much sorrow ever before. And there is a difference between sorrow and sadness. Sadness is a surface emotion. Sadness is expressed because the person is deceased. Sorrow is a deep emotion and expressed because the person is no longer here. We are now missing something beloved, someone that we will never have again in this realm.

And sitting in the midst of this sorrow, I began to absorb it, to breathe it in. And the human body can only hold so much sorrow at one time, so at some point I had to escape the melancholy and retreat outside. And there at the edge of the parking lot, the sorrow absorbed in the previous 80 minutes poured out of me. This was a life well lived, very well lived, indeed.

#4 (and final) Tribute to my friend (and brother-in-law) Tim Richardson who passed away April 2: On February 11, my wife’s family met for dinner at a Fairlawn restaurant to commemorate some occasion that I can’t even recall. I do remember that I wasn’t really looking forward to the event since it was on a Monday night and we would have to rush to get there and then get home late.

At the table, Tim was seated to my immediate right. Looking back, this wasn’t unusual. At most family events, Tim and I usually hung out together. This wasn’t by any conscience choice. I just liked being around him because he was such a great guy. He wasn’t just my brother-in-law, he was my friend. And I know that type of relationship does not exist in every family. I am extremely fortunate to have married into a tremendous family and Tim was a big part of that.

I never really thought about the friendship part of the relationship. Tim was just a great brother-in-law. We never argued and I can’t remember having any conflicts with him in the 35 years that I knew him.

The February dinner was great. Everyone had a good time and we laughed boisterously trying to decide what each person should order from the restaurant’s extensive menu. At the end of the meal, I said goodbye to Tim as I had done hundreds of times before. Only this time it wasn’t just goodbye, it turned out it was, GOODBYE. It’s now time not to be so concerned about the inconvenience of rushing to get to places or getting home late.

The Reflection

In December I was able to do two unexpected (and unrequired) acts of generosity for my brother-in-law Tim. At the time I considered them relatively small and insignificant. Upon his untimely passing this Tuesday, I realize that I was able to provide two blessings to him in what turned out to be the last few months of his life. Now these acts to me seem magnanimous, they are almost immeasurable. How is it that my perspective on this was so far off? What “small” acts did I have the chance to do today for other people that I did not do? What opportunities will I have

tomorrow?

Fifty Shades of Gray? - Try Fifty Shades of Red!

You would think by now I would be an expert in communicating with women, but recently I have had several strange conversations that ended with ladies becoming upset and disappointed. For example:

- I called my insurance agent Tina because she had made several errors on a recent quote.

“I’m very sorry about the mistakes I made”, she said.  “I’ve been a very bad agent.  Would you like to spank me?”

“Now, now, everyone makes mistakes, I said.  Just send me a corrected quote and we’ll be good.”

“Fine”, she said curtly. “I just send you a new quote then.”

- I was at my doctor’s office getting my blood pressure checked when the nurse said:

“I really enjoyed cuffing you.  I think it would be great if you cuffed me.  I’m sure it would raise your blood pressure.”

Of course I declined the offer.  She’s the medical professional.  I don’t see any benefit of me taking her blood pressure!  And shouldn’t she be trying to lower my blood pressure?

- I told a vendor that I couldn’t meet with her on Tuesday because I    was tied up in a meeting.

“Ooh, I just loved to be tied up”, she said. “Would you like to meet   some evening?”

I told her that my schedule wasn’t that tight and we could meet at my office Thursday morning.  She seemed much less thrilled with this idea.

- At lunch one day I ordered the whipped potatoes.  The waitress said:

“I just love to get whipped. What do you think?”

I told her that she should just get some potatoes to go when her shift was over and enjoy them at home.

The sexiest potatoes ever!

- I was having this lunch with my friend Cherise, when we finished eating she said:

“I want you to force me to do something I don’t want to do”

I thought quickly and replied, “Okay, you can pay for lunch.  My food costs almost twice as much as yours, so I am really sticking it to you!  And you’re responsible for the tip also.”

Cherise got real upset at the idea, so I guess she really didn’t want to do this!

- My co-worker Gail said that she wanted to be disciplined and asked me if I wanted to help.

“Sure”, I replied. “We all need more structure at the office.  You can start by making a “To Do” list every morning.”

- I was returning books at the library when the librarian said:

“Would you like it if I got very kinky?”

“Your hair looks very nice straight, but if you wanted to make it curly, give it a try”, I said.

- The perky clerk at Starbucks took my order and then asked:

“I want to get into S&M. Can you help me?”

I told her that sales and marketing would be a good field for her to consider and that I would let her know if I heard of any openings.  She looked very disappointed at my reply.

         

I told my friend Roger about all these weird conversations and he said that it all has to do with something called Fifty Shades of Grey.  Now this is just about the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of.  When I worked at a paint store we had over 50 shades of off-white because people were very particular about getting just the right one to match their décor.  But grey? All you really need are three shades of grey: light, medium or dark.  One of those usually does the trick.

Which shade of grey turns you on?

So ladies if you are stimulated by the thought of fifty shades of grey, just go to your local paint store and tell the guy there what you really need.  Be sure to be very explicit in your description because some guys are so dense they don’t understand what a woman is really telling them.  I’m sure the man at the paint store will be happy to satisfy any special desire you may have.

I Am Pitbull - So Don’t Stop My Party

A couple of my friends dealt with mid-life crises by buying very expensive, red, convertibles.  I am going through my own mid-life crisis but it could take me a long time just to get into one of those sports cars and you can forget about the thrill of the wind blowing through my hair.  So I dealt with my situation in a much more rational and mature way: I decided to prove to the world that I’ve still “got it”, by trying to be like the rapper Pitbull.

Pitbull is that cool guy with the shaved head in those beer commercials who apparently is very concerned about curfews because he keeps shouting “Don’t stop the party”.  He is very popular because when he raps he gets so into it the he gyrates as if he is having a seizure.  People love this, but if he ever does have a seizure during a concert, he is toast because everyone will keep partying instead of calling 911.

Pitbull’s other trademark is his super-stylish sunglasses which he wears all the time.  Since I already am sporting the shaved head, it was time to visit the yuppie sunglasses store at the mall.  I showed the babelicious saleswoman Katie a photo of Pitbull with shades and she found three pairs that were “bull worthy”.   I found the one I liked the best and looked in the mirror.  I was wearing my black leather jacket and the effect was stunning.

“I look bad-ass”, I exclaimed.

“You do look bad-ass.  You look very bad-ass”, said Katie

Of course when a hot chick tells a guy my age that he looks “bad-ass”, you know that I really have to have those sunglasses.

There was only one more detail.  It is very important that a guy’s sunglasses enable him to stare at women’s boobs undetected.

“Can you tell that I am staring at your boobs?" I asked Katie.

Katie looked carefully and said, “I can see your eyes, but I can’t tell where they are focused”.

She then proceeded to pose from various distances and angles while I admired her body (really happened.)

When I pointed out to Katie that I had just convinced a smoking hot woman to let me stare at her in various positions, she blushed big time.  I immediately apologized; worried that I had crossed the line.

"That’s perfectly fine", Katie cooed.  “In fact that sounded like something Pitbull would say.  I think those glasses are working for you.  You have a much more confident attitude.”

At this, I immediately removed the glasses because I was afraid that Katie was going to embrace me right there in the store. The total came to $234.75, which is probably more than I have paid for all the sunglasses I have ever owned in my life.

Now some of you might be thinking that this is too much money to pay for a pair of sunglasses when there are so many starving children in Africa.  I say the sunglasses are cheap compared to paying $50,000 for a sports car and of course I am writing a check for $49,765.25 to the Donation Opportunity Now African Kids Enrichment fund.

I decided I had to wear the sunglasses all the time (including inside) because I paid so much for them and of course because this is what Pitbull does.  However this did cause me some unexpected problems.   First of all, I was tripping over everything at work because it was too dark.  Then during a big meeting, an executive suddenly barked out, “Ake, take off those sunglasses. What are you doing, daydreaming behind those things?”  Of course I wasn’t daydreaming!  What type of lackey does he think I am?  I was just staring at the boobs of the woman sitting across the table.

Pitbull

Then one day I was talking to my friend Sally in the grocery store. She was telling me about her weekend plans when she stopped suddenly and questioned, “Are you starring at my boobs?”

A gentlemen will never admit this (although I doubt very much if women mind when Pitbull stares at their boobs) so I said: “No, of course not. Why do you ask?”

Mr. Bull****

Because you are wearing sunglasses and I am wearing a $100 push up bra!  You should be staring at my boobs!

The other bad thing about wearing sunglasses is that it impairs your peripheral vision which means I never saw the bitch slap coming.  It stung really bad and there was ringing in my ears for a couple days, but most importantly, the sunglasses were not damaged.

After that incident, I am no longer wearing my sunglasses indoors, or at night, for that matter.  I can’t wait for summer to get here so I can truly transform into Pitbull.  I hope people start calling me Mr. Bull, of course people often refer to me as Mr. Bull-something already.      

I Have Finally Changed My Underwear

We live in a time of great innovations. Over the last decade we have seen MP3 players, tablets, smart phones and big screen televisions, etc. But in my opinion the greatest recent creation has been something surprisingly low-tech, it is the Boxer Brief.

This is one of the greatest inventions of all time.  This wonderful undergarment combines the freedom of the boxer, with the security of the brief.  Freedom and security - these are the same concepts that make America great.  This is truly American underwear, although the last pair I bought was in fact made in Indonesia.  But regardless, let freedom ring and be secure, at the same time! 

These concepts are very important to a man and more specifically, to his man parts.  Remember the Seinfeld episode involving Kramer getting so frustrated because neither boxers nor briefs satisfied “his boys” that he just gave up and decided to go “commando”.  

This makes "the boys" very happy

But now there is the grand compromise.  The boxer and brief come together into a pair of uber-wear that is extremely pleasing to your man parts and thighs.  If our government leaders would compromise like this, our country would be so awesome that we could take over Canada and Mexico without any resistance.  After we gave their leaders the finest boxer briefs available, they would be so delighted they would sign over their territories without a fight. 

For years there was a lively debate over which was better, the boxer or the brief.  President Bill Clinton even commented on the subject in 1994, although we know his focus was never on getting into “men’s” undergarments.  Once a younger co-worker of mine became discouraged because a survey said women preferred men wearing boxers over briefs.  My friend was a brief wearer and said to me, “Don, I just don’t get it.  Why would women say that?” I told him that he is never going to understand women.  But I also told him that it doesn’t matter which they prefer because once you get to the point where they can see your skivvies, all that matters is that they are clean and atheistic (without any hole-liness).  You are just going pull them off quickly anyhow, so you don’t need to make a change. 

But this once heated debate is over.  The boxer brief is truly superior to any other underwear.   The only reason boxers and briefs are still sold is men have issues with changing their underwear.  Men put as much apprehension into making a decision to change their type of underwear as they put into changing their religion.  Under no circumstance do you want to upset your man parts.  I can still remember purchasing my first pair of boxer briefs.  I nervously looked around to see if anyone was watching me at the underwear rack.  I made my selection and keep them hidden under my arm while waiting in line.  I was worried the cashier might give me a strange look for buying such “weird” shorts.  She didn’t flinch, but she did have to swipe my credit card for me since I was shaking so badly.

But when I got home and put on the new boxer briefs for the first time, it was like having a religious experience.  If my man parts could, they would have been singing for joy.  I have been sporting boxer briefs ever since. 

I believe the inventor of the boxer brief should win the Nobel Peace Prize because this invention has enabled my man parts and thighs to live in perfect peace.  The war in my pants has ended.  We have harmony, we have tranquility, and we are all living in one accord (with no chafing!). 

And it’s getting even better! My newest pairs of boxer briefs are treated with an anti-microbial to inhibit odor.  When I am wearing these, I feel like I can meet any challenge, scale any mountain and vanquish any foe.  If they ever invent a pair of boxer briefs with a muffler on the back, I will rule the world!

The Retired Pope Should Go Fishing

Pope Benedict XVI (what happens when the get to XXX?) is retiring in a few days and because this is the first pope to retire in 600 years, many people have questions. And my readers are sending these questions to me because they believe I know everything about everything.  So here’s the first edition of “Ask Mr. Know It All”:

 

Is the pope’s retirement a good thing? – Ida Know, Racine, WI

 

When the Pope first announced his retirement he was criticized for being lazy and abdicating his responsibility.  After further review, it was determined that this was a sacrificial act of extreme holiness and esteemed godliness.  Both views of course are total hooey.  Let him retire now. What happens if he lives to 95? You don't want the leader of a world-wide institution wearing an adult diaper.

 

Why has no pope retired in the last 600 years?  Woah Jelly, Boston, MA

 

Word has it that the retirement benefits are horrible.  There is no pension and the 401-K plan was very bad.

 

Will the pope be allowed to date after he is retired and how much do you think he is worth? – Ima Golddigger, Trailerpark, TN

 

No, the pope will not be holding audiences with female callers.  I’m sure his priestly vows are still in effect even though he is no longer pope.  Why don’t you try calling Abe Vigoda.

 

How does someone go from being pope one day to being ex-pope the next day?  Bill Idiot, Columbus, OH

 

The de-popification process is a well-guarded church secret.  It has to be a very excruciating procedure if no one has wanted to experience it in 600 years.  Rumor has it that it begins with , well you don't really want to know the rest.  Benedict is either one tough hombre or he never read the manual.

 

Who was impacted the most by this decision? Dawn Garfield, Boise, ID
 

 

It is the poor cardinal who had to go tell God that the Catholic Church was making an unexpected change in leadership.  And reportedly God was really fizzed off by the news since lighting struck St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome right after the announcement (this really happened).    

 

What will the old pope do in retirement?  Fern Barnes, Daytona FL

 

The Catholic Church is very concerned about having the ex-pope interfering with the new pope.  Benedict is being exiled to a monastery just outside the Vatican.  They will keep a close eye on him because they don’t want him writing or saying anything that contradicts the teaching of the new pope. So he will be treated just like an Alzheimer’s patient at a nursing home.  They are closing his Twitter account so he can’t tweet something like: “It’s Friday during Lent and I just had a Double Whopper with Cheese – wooo, wooo!"

 

Reportedly Benedict was offered to star in a new reality show titled “Hey I Used To Be the Pope” which would detail his struggles adjusting to “real” life and would feature one of the Kardashians as his nurse.  The church put the kibosh on this quickly however.
 

A "heavenly" meal?

I do think that Benedict should just go fishing.  This should be acceptable to the Catholic Church since the first pope was, in fact, a fisherman.  In addition, it is a holy act since fish is an essential part of the Lenten season and without it many big eaters would end up in hell. 

 

The new pope selection process is so boring with all the secrecy and the puff of smoke.  What can be done to liven it up?   Marvin Switarski, Chicago, IL

 

I would have a two-hour television show called “Vatican Idol”.  The top candidates would perform papal functions and be evaluated by a panel of cardinals.   You might hear Cardinal Simon proclaim: “A blessing, you call that a blessing?  I don’t feel blessed!  That’s one of the worst blessings I’ve ever seen!

 

At the end you would crank up the smoke machines have the new pope emerge in full costume from the haze.  He would start to dance and then ---- Vatican Shake!  Yeah! I’d watch that!

I'm Russian Away From These Women!

Last week I received a very disturbing e-mail at work.  The description read: “Russian Prostitutes Want To Make You Cune”.  I thought I had received this in error, until later in the day when I received a second e-mail.  There was no mistake.  Russian prostitutes were indeed pursuing me.

The e-mail was very strange for several reasons.  They didn’t even try to trick me by saying “Russian Ladies”.  Why they think I am interested in prostitutes, I don’t know.  Hey, does this imply they think I have to pay for it?

And what is so special about “Russian” prostitutes?  Russian women are beautiful, but these are still Eastern-European chicks, right?  I don’t think they cost any less than other prostitutes.  I assume you pay in dollars, not rubles, so the exchange rate is not an issue.  But how did these women get into our country anyway?  I know we have an immigration problem but with Europeans we have U.S. security officers who are trained to subdue these ladies and give them intense, private, interrogations --- oh, never mind.

And then they want to make me “cune”.  This is not a misprint because it was repeated in several e-mails. Look, I am an American citizen and I have certain inalienable rights which I’m sure include life, liberty and not being forced to cune against my will.  So I’m not going to succumb to the wishes of any prostitute, let alone a Russian one!

I was very concerned about these Russian prostitutes because they seemed very aggressive and of course they knew where I worked.  Before leaving that night, I checked out the window to make sure there were not Russian prostitutes draped over my car.  Then I ran to my car, lest the ladies grab me, take me behind the bushes, and make me cune.  I checked the back of my car to make sure no Russians were hiding there.  It would have been difficult to explain this to my wife: “Honey, Svetlana followed me home.  Can I keep her?”

Wants "Hieroglyphic" love letters?

Once home, I was afraid to answer the door or the phone.  If these women knew where I worked, surely they knew where I lived.  I did google “cune” and it returned “cuneiform writing”. So I’m guessing these kinky ladies want to constrain me and force me to communicate with them using hieroglyphics.

The next day there were more e-mails.  These women were not going to stop until they had made me cune.  I reported the e-mails to an IT co-worker.  He advised me not to open the link because I could get a virus.  “Duh”, I said. “These are Russian prostitutes; I could catch a lot worse than that!” He explained that I could get a “computer virus” and then I remembered one of the most embarrassing incidents of my business career.

In May of 2000, the “I Love You Virus” infected millions of computers worldwide.  It is one of the most infamous computer viruses ever.  One morning at work I received an e-mail from “Bodacious Barb” in accounting, with the subject line:  “I Love You”.  If this e-mail came from gay Ben in finance, or old Phyllis in purchasing, I would have quickly deleted it.  Now Barb wasn’t that attractive, but she was indeed “bodacious”, so I opened the e-mail.  The message just said “I love you”.  I did think it very odd of her to send this to me and I wondered how I should act around Barb the next time we met.

An hour later I received an e-mail from IT warning that if you receive an e-mail with “I Love You” in the subject line, that under no circumstances should you open it or you risk doing massive damage to the company’s computer system and could actually cause the building to collapse killing everyone.

The IT guy was very upset with me for opening the e-mail.  As he worked to clean the virus off my computer, we had the following conversation:

IT Guy:  Why did you open this e-mail that had a virus in it?

Me:  I didn’t know it had a virus in it until I opened it.

IT Guy: You should have known it was a virus because it said “I Love You”

Me: When the woman with the biggest breasts in the company sends you an e-mail that says “I Love You”, you have an obligation as a guy to open it.

He then just looked at me stunned and confused.  I wanted to then say: “Look geek-boy, it’s time to quit playing so many video games and get a life!”

So if the Russian Prostitutes are reading this blog post: It’s over between us. Please leave me alone.  I am not interested in your offer.  I do not want you to make me cune.  Go find someone else to make cune.  And if these e-mails are from Bodacious Barb pretending to be a Russian Prostitute: Sorry Barb, you infected me once and that is a real turn-off.