Bud Light is bad watery beer. Frankly, so are most of the other "commercial" light beers. I get the protests and (alleged) boycotts againt Bud Light for the trans thing, but what would it
take to get people to just try one of the billions of decent craft or microbrews out there? Yeah, I guess not drinking Bud Light is not exactly reverse virtue signaling, but trans outrage or not, what are people even
drinking that piss in the first place?
Thanks, Abita, for making Andygator. You don't even need to sip it while you bathe.
Who orders windshield wipers from eBay anyway?
Nothing in the world is worse than overused hyperbole.
I needed the social security administration begin deducting federal witholding taxes from my monthly check because I don't want armed IRS agents stopping at my house in the future. One cannot make this request on line or electronically in any way. I had to fill out a special IRS form, sign it, put it in an envelope, find a stamp and mail it to the local SSA office. The year is 2023 and the nice folks at that agency have yet to figure out modern technology.
Found a postage stamp, though.
Hey Garland, I dig your tweed coat. I'll trade you a domino this size, mothball-scented. The woman silk nude tie painting his chest. One celluloid stay exposed through his nibbled collar. Feet speckled the sidewalk. Faces gurgled through windows. Passing cars gum rubber streaks. Neon plants swim like green seaweed to a deep rhythm of blues. Red thyroid sunsets, flame in speckled chemistry. Pipes run off dark tubes. Erase into marks that pour the dye of darkness. Crystal comes together as silent as ink. "I don't think I could let it go. I got it at the religious scene." Teeth let go, tobacco juice, an oiled balloon, brown eye in an egg white, black tar bubbles and stripes. A straw hat squeaked on the brim of a feather. Newsprint thumbed through nicotine fingers, a dark olive was turned on. Its small pulp speaker burst into a scream. One large tomato was immediately peeled skin red. It bled into a red "O" and smacked behind accepted fangs. Quick eyebrows danced cutely above a mole. The bridge held a large gold pair of spectacles. The front was smooth. It slightly gathered and wrinkled at the holes. A dark wooden moustache deposited below above Chinese red varnished lips that dented slightly into the evening. "It's gotten quite cold. I've decided I can't sell you my coat." Honking, the wind puffed into the clumps above the lattice rows. And out looked Panatella, naked and not ashamed, without no clothes. Wiggle Pig went snout-first into a tree. The rubber turkey was gobbled up by the night's dark rubber mouth. A white phosphorous raindrop dropped in the sky. Hot silhouettes in a convertible gave this applause. And several white porcelain trays were rolled in by bumblebees. Their wings arranged with pictures out of the past. And the rainbow baboon gobbled fifteen fish eyes with each spoon. Pockets was caught at window level. Approaching the fractured glass, dripping in light, he spoke: "I've just looked at myself, and from here to here it ain't far enough, but from here to here it's too short." "And circles don't fly, they float," Pena exclaimed and went on to say, "Sun sure did shine this year. Who'd you look like underneath?"
Thanks, Don.