BunnysBastatrds

And for the record, I’ve copied and downloaded it to my files in case you delete it. If you do, I’ll repost it so you can’t delete it on my end,

Hmmm. Really? I’ll give a few examples of how stoopid those street preachers are. My favorite is a day we were in the Quarter just drinking and everything Fat Tuesday is on Bourbon Street.Its an adult Disney World. Pure fawking decadence. I’ve seen some shiot down there that made even me just think if is that what I think I just saw. My good friends dad had a large compound off Decatur behind Gyros. That family was filthy rich. Mike would invite us from time to time every year for Fat Tuesday every Mardi Gras year. You ,walk out the doors and head down Decatur, turn towards Jackson Square toward the St. Louis Cathedral. And the streets behind heading to Bourbon. We get there and turn left towards Canal. Turn right and it’s the ghey area.We had a shopping basket we stole a few nights before filled with ice, a keg, shots, and just pushed down Bourbon St. We a little more than half way down heading back to the compound, and there are these three hotties on the side and one has her thumb up hitchicker style. One says they need a lift and what’s in the cart? And that’s how it began. Gave them a beer and a flaming Dr Pepper. I invited them to the party, and they couldn’t wait. Of course I picked the chub wearing cowboy boots, short denim cutoffs, tank top, and a cowboy hat with a feather band and Jack Daniel’s pin. Chris and Tommy picked the girls who needed to eat a big sammich. As they are telling they are staying at the YWCA, I look over and see this husband carrying a large cross, wife with a bullhorn screaming “REPENT Or go to HELL!!!”. Next to them, two kids no older than eleven who were holding signs and they looked miserable. I’ll start chapter two tomorrow.

Two Out Of Three Ain’t Right

I Feel Like Making Bad Decisions

Home Sweet Home Alabama

Don’t Tell Me You Love Me Tender

Private Tiny Dancer

I Did It My My

Turn Me Lucy

Nothing But A Gstring

Born To Runaway

Good answer. I’m becoming to believe you. That’s left of the endzone goal post. I was in section 301 directly in the middle of the which means your tickets were in the start of the curb. No need to question you. I believe you but need to if you ever lived here. And other important games you’ve been to.

The Monster Mash Potato Time HT?

Smells Like Teen Spirit In The Material World

Little Red Corvette Fast Car

Got your + a number is mashing

Got Your Number Off The Bathroom Stall 867-5309

OK. You did just repeat anything anyone can google like I knew you would. If you were at the game, there are ONLY things that we know. I’ll start you off easy. What section, row, and seat number were you in. And don’t lie to me, I’ll know.

Wherever I May Roam Walking To New Orleans

Sympathy For The Devil Losing My Religion

Ring of fire knocking on your back door

You went?

First off, I know you are not a Saints fan or was in the Dome that glorious night. Your handle, you haven’t talked about how and why you’re a Saints fan. Or anything about that experience that you can’t google. Come on so I can prove your stolen Saints valor. If you were there, tell me things that only fans there know. When I prove you are a liar, get your sorry ass back to FBGheys. You can google your ass off. I’ve been a season ticket holder for thtty plus years.

I’ve been somewhat thinking about them and their style of posting. And it hit me last night. They are a bunch of phaggot donkeys trying to Fawk elephants and trying to get donkey punched.

I know i am till some have some of those demons from the past come back to haunt me. They don’t affect anyone but me. All on me but then others worry. So I have to hide them from them and fight that battle all alone. The only way to be sure Im not hurting the ones I love. More than a protective person for others.