It is a math problem, really. I ended up with the bag holding the blue privilege tokens after handing them out to deserving staff at the Frigg’s day moot. There were three blue privilege tokens in there, that black velvet bag the Mayor uses to hold the weeks issue. Gosh darn. Nobody noticed, they were all bolting out the door to their separate destinations: the green privilege tokens to The Pleasure Center, the local bar; The red privilege tokens to the Colosseum, for an evening spectacle watching wild beasts tear apart Occupy activists; and the blue tokens were headed to the parking lot: their reward was a weekend in Montreal, there to sample Michigan sausage. There are only two days in the weekend, as you well know; two tokens are sufficient for the entire weekend of Michigan sausage, and the best Michigan sausage is in Montreal. It is a perfect time. But what if you have three blue privilege tokens? This is the three blue privilege tokens, two nights in Montreal problem.
Archive for the ‘My Eyes Are Up Here Aaaaashole’ Category
If that kid becomes any more slack-jawed he’ll be able to catch a starfish in his face (???).
The Mayor isn’t sure when he was exposed to his first set of breastisis, but I do remember some of the courses I was taking in University at the time. Anatomy wasn’t one of them.
Hey, “pony girl sex.”
Rank me #1 Google, you bastard.
Things have been kind of slow around Mitchieville recently, and as Mayor I feel I should explain why: Life has gotten in the way.
The workload at City Hall has been nothing short of disgusting lately. Peoples to see, places to be, crap to sign, babies to shake and hands to sign. It is never-ending.
Today was a great example. I was at City Hall at 6:30 am to kick off the “Every child should not have to go to school on an empty stomach, therefore every taxpayer in Canada will pay for their breakfast” program, or ECSNHtGtSoaESTETiCWPFTBp. At 8 am The Mayor traveled to east Mitchieville for a ribbon cutting ceremony for the grand opening of The Squid Farm – an entire farming community dedicated to harvesting squid. Then meeting after meeting until noon, a short liquid lunch, and then more meetings and ceremonies until 9 tonight. The Mayor is even finding it hard to find time to get drunk lately. Not that I haven’t found the time, it’s just harder to find the time.
Since The Mayor feels this bizarre dedication to bringing you daily award-winning posts, and since he feels he has let you down in the slightest of ways lately, he has decided to do something a little bit special next Tuesday: starting at 12 am Tuesday moanin’, The Mayor is going to put up one post every hour for 24 hours. Yes, one post an hour for one complete day. Welcome to the Mitchieville Marathon.
YouTube video’s, great pictures, Gif’s, charts, hookers, The Mayor is going to throw everything at you next Tuesday. Since I know that buying your love is useless because you would never accept my money, I feel this is the next best thing.
And it will work, and yes, you will love me again. You know it. I know it. The world knows it.
Now embrace me and like it.
To be fair to Mr Soetoro, he’s actually looking in the range of the young lady’s chin. People like Mr Soetoro have a hard time looking folks in the eyes, I suppose. It’s said that the eyes are the mirror of the soul, and I wouldn’t be the least surprised if Mr Soetoro didn’t leave a reflection in a mirror. And not because he’s a vampire, but because he’s an asshole.
And yes, I understand that didn’t make any sense, but either does this: jhgiurejnv;oirifkjeqhkjhg;ur285098nfckjoihj09ew7hd9.
I was going to use this picture for the “You Aint All Dat And A Bag Of Potato Chips Week”, but I think this fits the bill rather nicely.
I’m not sure who the brunette is in the picture, perhaps Mary Pickford or Gloria Swanson, but rest assured she is NOT going to let her significant other get within field goal range of Marylin Monroe. I suppose though that the brunette got the last laugh as Monroe died tragically of a drug overdose while brunette lady died the old fashion hollyweird way – by gonorrhea.
He’s giving the same look at Eliza Dushku’s tidy bosom as the Mayor gives when he drives away in the morning trying to remember if I turned off the stove. That was a lot funnier and made a hell of a lot more sense when it was going through my mind 45 seconds ago. Now? Not so much.
Hugh McBride had an excellent comment regarding yesterday’s post, something The Mayor was going to delete and then post while taking full credit:
One is what the fictional male lead in “6 days, 7 nights” said: “You bought that thing thinking ‘I don’t want men to look at me.’ ”
Two: He’s got good taste, you cannot deny that.
Three: The newest breast cancer slogan is “I love boobies,” Stan is just doing his part.
I’m sure all red-blooded males were thinking of 1, 2, or 3 of those exact same comments.
Even though you can’t blame Stanley Tucci for eye-humping Anne Hathaway, I still stand by my belief that Tucci is little more than a penis with ears.
True story (Hollyweird true though) – on the set of The Devil Wears Prada, Anne Hathaway had to give Tucci crap one day because he wouldn’t stop elbowing her breasts. He was always ogling her and talking about her chest and making inappropriate comments, but then he started actually elbowing them – like he was a defencemen from the hated Philadelphia Flyers (???). Anne lost her composure and publicaly called him out.
So there ya go, what an AMAZING story, I’m sure you are all on the edge of your seats (you probably are, trying to see down the monitor, you dirty bugger).
Anyway, welcome to My Eyes Are Up Here Aaaaaashole Week. I hope your stay in an enjoyable one.