You can do better than this, Lurlene
Yeah. I own it. And no, the loose slots they advertised had nothing to do with gambling or hookers. In a related story, meet my new husband Johnnie Walker.
I agree. Smoking that Bolivian Cluster Fuck sensimilla was a batshit crazy idea. Now bring me a fucking beer, bitch!!!
one of each please
Watch out for Lurlene, Jorge. She’ll kick your ass if you don’t stick to your own beer.
Seamus McCafferey’s: A place where everyone knows your name, if your name is Bunnahabhain
Minutes to Midnight
Jules: I don’t wanna hear about no motherfuckin’ ifs. All I wanna hear from your ass is, You ain’t got no problem, Jules. I’m on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the calvary which should be coming directly.
Marsellus: You ain’t got no problem, Jules. I’m on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the Wolf who should be coming directly.
[Ed.: Can anyone point me to the artist?]
…and it shows. Your rolling creamsicle ads come in lots of different flavors
Lime
Possibly the flavor is Sour Apple
Licorice
Black and topless like hookers named Apple
Orange
The color of 8 barrel air cleaners
Red? Rust?
Him: Reddened, like it’s engorged.
Her: Stop looking at my boobs or I will take this microphone and Casino Royale your personal BJ quest into oblivion.
Golden
Like the flavor of popcorn. Or showers, one supposes, since it seems to invite being pissed on.
The elusive WTF mark V, which tastes of mystery and Wild Turkey
The elusive WTF Mark V, which tastes of mystery and Wild Turkey
Vanilla
The high dollar chicas are not impressed, even when it’s Italian
Lemon yellow?
Ahh, overcompensation. Lemon, like “pucker up”? Not subtle. Banana, to go with a long hood and side exhausts? You think it says long and hard. She’ll think yellow banans are already starting to go soft and are hours away from rotting. Also, gasses – pheww – watch out.
When all else fails...
…just drop the bonnet on an Aston, regardless of color. While it does say, “I’m fucking desperate,” it also says “old money” and jacuzzi suite at the Wynn. Whadda you got to lose.
The only sure fire solution: B/W like Nick at Nite
Even if you’re a door knob, driving old Vegas says “yeah baby” in that ever so right sort of way.
Despite what your drunken penis-brain tells you, that hot redhead who reminds you of Louise (Padlock’s girlfriend) on the hysterical historical geology road trip to Niagara Falls is NOT hot for you. This is not the first time you will confuse a girl that talks to you with one who is interested in you.
It’s a really simple distinction – the first one is usually real.
Anyway, she’s just trying to get you out of the room so another couple can hook up.
Don’t worry, you DID offend her. And, no, she doesn’t have any cigarettes you can bum at 3 am, but pound on her door for 10 minutes just to make sure.
Jack Daniels. It’s what we hide under the back seats for when 8 Barrel has a party.
1971 VW 411
Spring or Summer, 1980
Spot light? Check. Radar detector? Check. Mirror alligator? Check
April 1981 photography by Chevelle
Despite $1.30 to 1.40 for a gallon of gas and astronomical insurance rates… Some of these cars are used solely for transportation to work or school. Other common uses are for mobile parties and for activities prohibited by a recent Supreme Court decision. One individual’s “beast,” as he called it, looked like a combination para-military mobile command post (replete with numerous clubs, a Fuzzbuster, and a notorious spotlight), and a mobile party store. Such blatantly obscene law-ignoring vehicles were, fortunately, very, very rare…
–Some idiot, a million years ago in an irrelevant puff piece
can't see the burn marks from here
Where I saw one: Getting on the 51 today.
Nostalgia Value: 5/10
Baseline: 0 – I never owned one.
+1 for being a Ford-badged Mazda. Way better than being a Ford-badged Kia. +1 because I almost bought one, after my Festiva suffered it’s critical ass implosion, +1 for orange dash lights, +1 for not burning to the ground the night I set one on fire, +1 because Dribble crashed hers under a semi, mooting the fact that I torched a brand new car while hammered on gasoline/everclear cocktails.
I nearly bought one, then the future Mrs. talked me into a Suzuki Swift instead. What the FUCK was i thinking. (Besides “indulge the GF and get laid”)?
