What Would the Setbacks Do?
Many, Many Souls Saved Since 2002
Here's where we, the Setbacks, get a chance to answer your questions and give general advice on anything you'd like to ask us.
Email questions to advice[at]thesetbacks.com
Cease and desist... NOW
November 29th, 2007
Cyrius Balles writes:
I am neither a fan nor a person who enjoys listening to music. While I was visiting my nephew on Renfrew Avenue last night I heard what sounded suspiciously like Setbacks music coming from the band's rehearsal space. I represent the legal interests of Steve Palmer and without his written consent you are all strictly forbidden to play any Setbacks songs - in whole or in part. I cannot overstate the urgency and importance of this formal legal request and I expect that you will obey it and not be douchebags about it immediately.
 Trevor |
Listen BALLES, I checked with some legal counsel and found that issuing a cease and desist order through an advice website does not constitute any legal binding documentation as required by the law.
I have personally told Steve that if he wishes to pursue any legal action he should consider hiring a lawyer that doesn't run his office out of the back door of the local mmmmuffins franchise at the mall. Yes, I am implying that this is where your law office is located. Be insulted. For all the rest of the readers, you can now see some of the internal struggles that lead to the demise of the Setbacks. This is why Chris set his drums up in such a way that he would never have to look at Steve. |
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 Steve |
Woah. This is the first I've heard of this. Cyrius - please contact me directly to discuss how we'll prepare our case. I have a few surprise witnesses I'd like to call to the stand. The first is Todd (aka Todd from Understorey, Trodvor 2000). This guy is hilarious and does can do this really funny high-pitched voice. I'd love to get him to do it in the courtroom. He'd have the jury in stitches. Can you coordinate this?
Mike and Brett are another couple of good witnesses. Both are totally cool and stand-up guys. I think we should call them too. I haven't seen either of them in a while. Also, can we request that Judge Reinhold sit on the bench? |
 Paul |
Wow. That takes some...uh... serious balls to make accusation like that. First of all you say that you don't even like music but you can walk by a random house and say that you heard a song that may sound like it if from one of Ottawa's most underrated bands?
Sure, you may have walked by the house where 3/4 of The Setbacks were playing together but you did not hear a Setbacks song. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm sort of insulted. To think that we were playing painfully weak covers of Attack in Black and Starling and you thought it sounded like The Setbacks. Ouch. Please buy a Setbacks CD and listen to it a couple times to rid your ears of any previous music you have heard. Douchebag. |
 Chris |
Awaiting wisdom...badda bing badda boom |
Family Running Interference
May 10th, 2007
Garth Mendelson writes:
I'm a die hard Sens fan and I make a point of watching each and every game with my buds. We take turns hosting and everybody brings beers and meat. It's always a good time and I wouldn't trade our little tradition for anything in the world.
The reason I'm writing in is to tell you guys about a little problem is starting to get in the way of me enjoying my time with the guys. Namely, my 8 month pregnant wife and infant daughter. Lately during the playoffs they've been giving me a lot of grief about being out of the house so much. You know what my response to them is? "Get out of my face - you know how important time with my buds is... so don't fuck this up!"
Before my daughter came along it was easy enough to pop home after work, get changed and head right back out to meet my friends. My wife would complain, but I could deal with her. Now that my daughter's learning to talk, she's bitching at me too... now I have the two of them asking for hugs and telling me they love me. Enough! I just want to put on some jeans and take a shit! And then leave immediately to get slammed with my buds.
Guys, what can I do? I'm fearing that when this new kid comes along the situation is going to get even worse. Especially when it's my turn to have the guys over at our place. I mean, fuck... they're really interfering with my plans.
Trevor |
Listen MENDELSON! I'm going to be the first to apologize to you. The Setbacks have really been dropping the ball recently when it comes to dishing out helpful advice recently, and your situation has suffered greatly. Now that I'm getting around to giving out advice, the playoffs are already over.
Anyways, here's my advice so that you can use it for other similar situations. You just have to remind them that you're the breadwinner. You're bringing home the bacon. And if you want to let your frank and beans float, you can damn well do it. This may sound harsh, but it'll have to be said. Also, let me know how it goes because I would never in a million years have the balls to do what I say. |
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Steve |
Awaiting wisdom... |
Paul |
Awaiting wisdom... |
Chris |
Awaiting wisdom...badda bing badda boom |
How can I be creative?
March 15th, 2007
Ronald Roland writes:
I've never had much creativity myself (I work in a lab that studies paint drying) so I've always marveled at guys like you that obviously have talent in spades. I'm sure you all have loads of creative stuff you work on in your free time. Please share! I'm hoping to gain some inspiration...
Trevor |
Listen RONALD! It looks as though I am being cornered into demonstrating my creativeness via some haikus. Note that Steve answered this question first, Paul second, and then I did. I can only assume Chris will after this, but if you are reading this advice for the first time, read it in that order (Steve, Paul, Trevor, maybe Chris).
So anyway, enough with the immediate history lesson. Here are my haikus about my back stabbing bandmates (pre-emptively on Chris):
By the way, haikus are Japanese and have nothing to do with Korea. Steve, your ignorance has been exposed. If you don't want to practice, have the decency to tell us. Don't weave such a complex story about a trip to Korea. You've been caught. ps. inside jokes are awesome, and everyone's advice this time is basically full of them. |
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Steve |
Thanks for the kind words Ronand.
Spending this last week in Seoul has inspired me to write some haikus about what's important in my life. Here's one about our drummer Chris:
And another about our guitarist Trevor:
And our bassist Paul:
|
Paul |
Steve's answer really got my creative juices going. I thought that I'd put together some haikus as well.
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Chris |
Awaiting wisdom...badda bing badda boom |
Cookies!
March 1st, 2007
NewlyThirteen writes:
See I have this uncle, and hes really really awsome but hes not TECHNICALLY
my uncle. Well...I guess he is but to make a long story short hes my
biological aunts husband. Anyways. I see him once a week and he has this
really cool band and I love them to DEATH. So one day I saw a big box of
some of there CD's on the counter and my aunt gave me one. So in return i
promised to make them a batch of cookies. THIS IS NO JOKE!! However, due to
my amazingly amazing life of playing Wheel of Fortune and not being able to
guess even the easiest of easy phrases " famous last words" I did not have
the time and precision to make them. I felt HORRIBLE. So now that its almost
spring break and i have a lot of time on my hands, Ive decided that i finally
want to bake them the cookies!
The reason I have written this is because I have absolutely no idea what
type of cookies to bake them! Please respond I need serious help!!!
Trevor |
Listen NEWLYTHIRTEEN!
C is for cookie, that's good enough for me C is for cookie, that's good enough for me C is for cookie, that's good enough for me Oh, cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C That about sums it up. Anyone should be grateful to get any type of cookie in exchange for a cd, whether he's your uncle or not. But, I guess if it were me, I'd say no raisins. Nothing ruins a cookie like a shrivelled grape. And don't give me that crap about raisin's being nature's candy. Candy is nature's candy. Maybe that's it, put some type of candy into the cookies. Get creative and make something that's never been made. |
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Steve |
I sympathize with your feelings Paul. Those are all valid questions but I'm afraid you'll never get an answer to them. Instead of a period, try placing a question mark at the end. This indicates to the reader that it is in fact a question.
Yes, I know I'm an asshole for pointing that out. And NewlyThirteen, I like all cookies as long as they haven't been tossed first. Oh, and they can't have nuts in them. |
Paul |
Sure cookies are great and if made properly can make you forget about all of the worlds problems.
The real problem here is the fact that you hate your "uncle". You can't even speak the words. You must only refer to him as "that guy married to your aunt". Why are you so filled with hate. Why can't you accept those around you. Always with the labels. Can't we all just get along. Can't we just have some chocolate chip cookies and have a good time. |
Chris |
Awaiting wisdom...badda bing badda boom |
Gimme the Dirt!!!!!
February 23rd, 2007
Flappy Jack writes:
Can you remember a time when you did something really, really fucking stupid for someone you liked? At the time, you thought it was a good idea, but really, it ended up totally embarrassing the shit out of you?
I want to know: WHAT’S THE FREAKIEST THING YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW HAS DONE FOR LOVE?
We all have a story! Hell, I went transatlantic for an Internet lover and ended bloody trashed at a Hawksley Workman show, which turned out alright in the end. But you: Did you wake up drunk on her lawn? In her pool? Send dirty photos of her to her mother? WHAT DID YOU DO FOR THE BIRD OR BLOKE you dug? How did it end up? Is that what your album is about?
Trevor |
Listen FLAPPY! Love can do crazy things to a man. Even a man such as myself. I give as evidence the following tale:
During the course of one beautiful summer, I spent a lot of time out of the city and at a cottage. Apart from falling in love with my natural surroundings, I also fell in love with a local girl. Whenever she was around I was like a peacock in full plummage, strutting my stuff and doing my best to stand out. I guess it worked, because one day she came running to me because her dog got stranded on Dead Man's Island and she figured I was the only one strong enough to swim out and get it. Long story short, I'm not a really strong swimmer and about 20 feet from shore I was overcome by the small waves and almost drowned. I had to be saved by the very girl I was trying to impress. She swam out and got me back to shore where some people performed CPR and got my heart beating again. I actually spent the better part of seven months in a coma. When I woke up, I found out that she was actually a man and that he had made love to me while I was in the coma. I moved on, but to this day I am terrified of open water. |
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Steve |
A friend of mine was head over heels for this girl... like, he was seriously walking on sunshine. He reached a point in their relationship where he felt compelled to demonstrate the ultimate display of love and devotion to her. Problem was that he felt limited by what he could say or write. As he explained it to me, "words are useless". So rather than being constrained by the vocabulary of the English language, he chose arguably the most sensual of communication techniques - interpretive dance. However, during one of the most erotic and technically challenging sequences his cell phone rang. As if this wasn't embarrassing enough, it turns out it was this girl he was doing on the side... she was preggers and it was most certainly not planned. He got off the phone and he finished that dance though. Like, he really nailed it.
I have a lot of respect for that. |
Paul |
This was no ordinary girl. No high school crush. No beer-goggle makeout. This was serious. We had only been going out for a couple months when our group of friend's annual "pub golf" pub crawl came up. Every year this event seems to get more and more messy. Anticipating this, I told her that the pub crawl is usually boring and a male bonding type thing, hoping to scare her off. The plan worked. She ended up heading out with her lady friends to some lady friendly place where I can only assume that beer and nachos are not the main staple. So the pub crawl pretty much went as planned. Large amounts of alcohol were consumed. Shots, beers, pickled eggs, mixed drinks, lemons, nachos, and all combinations in between. Sometime after the point where I knew it was inevitable that I was going to cross THAT line and the point where I actually did cross the line, my lady friend gave me a call. Since my mind was somewhere between destroyed and incomprehensible I was able to converse somewhat coherently. Turns out that her lady friends had enough wine, cheese, naked tickle fights, gossip, and whatever else ladies do for the night. She wanted to come meet up with us. My conscience, which at this point had almost checked out for the night, said "your lady will not be impressed with the condition you are in". Unfortunately the tequila in my stomach was much louder yelling "Fuckin eh man. She will totally see that you are an awesome dancer and the life of the party.... and if she comes you might get to feel her boobs." So the decision was made. To make thing all the more awesome the final bar on the pub crawl was Ottawa's own "bottom of the barrel" bar, Maxwell's. As I waved my lady over to the dance floor I flooded her vision with amazing dance moves such as the moonwalk, the running man, and the ever popular robot. Not intimidated by the dance moves my lady joined the large group of pub crawlers, cougars, divorce lawyers, and dirty old men on the Maxwell's dance floor. As the aural explosion of Tragically Hip, AC/DC, and House of Pain songs rang through the club I was overcome with passion for my lady and as we "jumped around" I yelled into her ear "I LOVE YOU". This phrase had not come up in our relationship yet. We both froze, instantly sobered by the situation. After a silence that was only a second or two but felt like an eternity the phrase was returned, "I LOVE YOU TO". I knew after that moment that this lady was a keeper. |
Chris |
Well. Good Question.
Once, ages ago really...I dropped some rap verses for my now wife on Valentine's Day. It was at her parents' house, and served as my method of asking her to marry me. And it went a little something like this... I love you. 'Nuff said. I am anxious to get you in bed. Bottom line. Sex. You know how I roll. Forever and ever, let's make this our goal. Mothafuckas to the left, gangstas to the right... 50 years of marriage, let's not fight. That's what I'm saying girl, you know how I rep. If you say no right now, you best watch your step. Don't embarrass me here, I swear I'll be pissed. If you try to front, and make me all dissed. Husband and wife. Wifey and boo. You'll get acquainted with things like me taking a poo ...and farting in public, and burping in stride and pounding that open carton of Five Alive in the fridge, in the kitchen of our house when you see my dick size, you'll think you married a mouse Forever and ever, let's do this right now Here is a ring, how I got it, don't ask me how... Will you mothafuckin' marry me, boo? |
I Might Lose My Kid
February 10th, 2007
Phillipe Orezscu writes:
I have a serious problem, and I hope you can help me. I have a son who is 13 years old, his mother died 3 years ago, and as a result I am raising him solo (I hate the term 'widower' by the way). We used to be best friends, but recently he's been really pushing my buttons. I mean really really getting under my skin.
It all came to a head the other day when he was leaving the house with his new denim slacks, and his belt was cinched so low that I could see daylight poking through above his belt, but between his legs (ie below his undropped testicles). Bottom line (no pun intended) his jean are about 4 inches above his knees, which I feel to be an unacceptable way to go out in public.
My problem is this: I really gave him what-for on his way out the door. Totally losing my cool. I guess this time it was a bit much because a little while later a lady from Children's Aid showed up with a few questions. I could see her thong underwear above her low rise jeans, and pretty soon we were gettin' mad rutty.
Do you think this creates any conflict of interest, and also what are my chances of getting my kid back?
Trevor |
Listen OREZSCU! Styles change and it is impossible to keep up with these trends as you get older. What may seem ridiculous to you and I is likely the only acceptable way for a younger human to dress. Your best bet is to accept that fact, but don't try to dress that way yourself. There is nothing worse than an aging hipster struggling to keep relevant.
Anyway, about getting the kid back, you'll need to play to your strengths. If macking ladies is what you do, you should be able to parlay that into getting your kid back. Lay the right people the right way and he'll be back driving you mad with fashion trends in no time. Don't forget to wear a condom while sleeping your way through Children's Aid. |
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Steve |
Phillipe,
I don't have many children of my own, but as several of the Setbacks will tell you I am generally respected as being somewhat of an expert when it comes to child rearing. In fact, some of my avant-garde techniques have been published in some highly respected medical journals. I did a thought piece last month entitled "Negative Reinforcement: Pool-Noodle Style". You should check it out. Now, on the subject of your predicament... it immediately strikes me that what your parenting toolbox is missing is pool noodles. Now, I'm not talking about the fresh and flexible colourful ones... no, no my friend... I'm talking about the weathered and brittle ones that have been left outside over the winter. You know, until they're really porous and cracking apart like Michael Jackson's face. When they can barely float that's when you know they're ripe for some disciplinin'! A couple smacks daily across the face will re-establish you as the alpha male and shut him up pronto. Aces! |
Paul |
Awaiting wisdom... |
Chris |
Phil,
Are you saying that you were giving your son shit for the same thing that you ended up getting engorged in the nether regions about? I am getting the impression that you find your son sexually attractive. If this is the case, then the Children's Aid visit was warranted. High five on getting it on with a social worker. That's a notch in the belt you want people to know about. |
Dating A Friend's Ex...
January 30th, 2007
Jack Pendejo writes:
Hello Guys,
The name's Jack Pendejo. I recntly split with my common law wife, and have been out of the singles game for a while now. Bottom line, I am ready and dying to butter some booties again.
Anyways, I ran into "Tammy" recently at a garage sale. She is fine!
What's weird is this...she is my ex's best friend. What makes this even more complicated is that she is still friends with my ex. Should I pursue this?
There is another complicated matter here...Tammy and I already went out on a date, and we slept together. She is also pregnant now, with my son. No one has really noticed because she's a big gal, but sooner or later it will be revealed.
Anyways, I really like her. Do you think I should maybe give it a go? Or do you think things might get a bit awkward?
Trevor |
Listen PENDEJO! All you need to do to avoid awkwardness is some serious spin. Politician style spin. You may need to hire a PR expert, but I'll give you some ideas off the top of my head that might work.
Right now you look like the bad guy, so we need to change that perception by making it seem like your ex impregnated her best friend Tammy. To do this you'll need to pull off the old DNA switcheroo. When no one is looking you'll need to change the label on your sample and your ex's sample. Then, when science has proven you right, you swoop in to help Tammy out by being there for her. Public opinion will be on your side, you'll be back in the sack with Big T, and you'll be in a position to raise your own son. This does not eliminate awkward situations though, and may permanently damage your ex's reputation. Your call. |
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Steve |
I used to know a Jack Pendejo.
He was a man-servant at my uncle's cattle ranch in New Mexico. Jack was a warm and caring man but had no basic reasoning skills. Because of this we called him "the animal". Jack wasn't unintelligent - he attended community college and read many books - but when it came to awareness, decision making and deduction he was at a severe disadvantage. I visited the ranch often in my teenage years and would regularly wake to Jack's shrill banshee-like panic-induced scream attacks. If Jack ever found himself in a closed room - which happened often while he sleepwalked - he would be unable to comprehend the purpose of the door knob and would be hopelessly trapped until one of us could release him. He sure had way with animals though! You could really feel a special connection between Jack and the livestock, I think mostly due to the fact that the cattle also had no capacity for any kind of organizational thinking. I've often thought of Jack as my second cat. He sure taught me a lot over the years... like how essential reasoning is to basic survival. Bless his gentle heart. |
Paul |
Awaiting wisdom... |
Chris |
First off, congratulations on your impending fatherhood!
Jack, let's get down to the real issues here. The real issue is there is obviously something wrong with using condoms for you, or at the very least making sure that underarm sex is considered in place of regular intercourse to prevent pregnancy. Lastly, you might be retarded. I'd forget about your reputation for a second, or any awkwardness between you and your ex. I just gave the guy before you a tip for being "real" with himself, and I intend to do the same thing with you. Three tits...yeah that's not half bad. Realize the situation. With you, I'm compelled to non-physically shake you and make you ask yourself...are you aware that you're having a child with this woman? Why are you so concerned with perception and weirdness with your ex at this point? IT IS GOING TO BE WEIRD! You're considering going on a second fucking date with this woman, who you've already given a child! Jack! GET REAL! Look into a mirror, and yell/ask the question to yourself..."Am I Being Real With Myself!"? Once you get that all worked out, I'd work on a budget. You'll need that, trust you me. Secondly, I'd get a vasectomy. If you don't want any more kids, you'll need that. Trust you me, my friend. Thirdly, I'd not say anything to your ex. Let her find out naturally. She'll be upset, sure, but you have an excuse. Privacy. Tell her you didn't want to make it public because of your concerns over your privacy, and that you thought it better to let things happens the way they were supposed to. If that doesn't work, stuff a Twix in your mouth, and garbble an attempt at an explanation, while being hindered by the chocolatey wickedness tickling your palate. It should work like on the commercial. |
3 Cups Will Do You Well...
January 19th, 2007
Chuck Tchobanian writes:
Hello,
First time writer here.
My question may seem a bit odd, and perhaps taken in bad taste, but I feel it neccessary to get some outside advice. I was reading about you guys in The Ottawa Citizen yesterday, and realized maybe you could field this...
Ok. Here goes.
I am 43, have been single forever, and have been desiring a romantic relationship for quite some time. It seems I've never really found that "right one", although I've dated heavily. My friends tell me I am overly picky, but I don't think that's it. You see, I was set up on a blind date last weekend with a wonderful lady, and not only did we hit it off, I became absolutely certain over a fine meal at Montana's that I had found my significant other. I must emphasize my certainty about this. Something heavenly came over me, and I was made aware that this was the woman I was to marry. One little problem though...
Cindy has 3 breasts. She is naturally a well endowed woman, even if she only had two breasts, with a whopping 42DDD cup size, but the fact that she has three makes not noticing almost impossible. It often looks as though she just has a chest full of other people's tits. Comparable to a stack of cantaloupes at Loeb.
What do I do? The social outcast factor is weighing heavily on my decision to continue this. I had asked her to go to your show tommorow night, but I am rethinking this due to the comments and reactions at our dinner last week. The Dominion is a bit of a different crowd, and I have no doubt we might run into some trouble.
BTW, I haven't slept with her yet. My friends say my concerns might be "e-titilated" when I get her custom bra off and juggle the pups,....but there you go, that's a perfect example of what I'm talking about. My friends used the word "e-titilated" instead of "eliminated". Am I forsaken to deal with the constant comments?
Thoughts?
Trevor |
Listen TCHOBANIAN! You are taking a very selfish approach to your situation. Can't you see this third breast is hard on her too? She is likely still single because she has yet to find someone who can get past the Tripeaks to see the real her. You have clearly done so, but are concerned with comments you might get?
Not to mention the fact that you are on the cusp of a fantasy many people have had since seeing Total Recall. You need to get in there and just go nuts with the motor boats and such. By the way, I definitely did not see you two at the show. Too bad. |
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Steve |
I think your breast bet is to just be honest with her. If you really think you could marry this woman, try to look past the ample bosom and think about all the wonderful mammaries the two of you will share during your life long journey together. If you jugs focus on the positive side of things, I think you'll realize that tits not that big a deal. If your friends are actually the sweater cows they honker they are, than I brassiere you'll have nothing but good boobs to rack about. |
Paul |
Your friends are just jealous. You have hit the motherload. If she can bake cookies, you have found the perfect woman. She is literally a woman and a half. Take this one nice and slow. You do not want to blow this opportunity.
When a dude says that "more than a handfull goes to waste" it probably means his girlfriend has no boobs. Trust me. Boobs are never a waste. No inhibitions. |
Chris |
To be honest with you Tchobanian, this is a problem that I think YOU only seem to think YOU have. This is in reality, a miracle. You are the luckiest guy alive. I hav a friend, Flex...he has a girlfriend who actually used to be a man. He says when they have sex, it feels normal, because the doctors surgeried "her" up in an incredible way, but he has to swallow the small amount of vomit he coughs up everytime he buries it in the fake cave. Apparently he deals with this because he's convinced he'll be single forever...anyways...my point is...he has a problem. You don't. Don't be so shallow. If she's nice in the face, then it all falls into place, and if she's got an extra squeezepak, then you have more to juggle. Man, I'm having a hard time finding the problem here.
Speedbag her boobs, and I think you'll realize it ain't that bad. |
Tips for Holding a Grudge
November 3rd, 2006
Tom Spitz writes:
A situation recently arose between myself and a friend of mine. I won't get into it, but it has turned me against him to the point the we no longer are on speaking terms, even though we still hang in the same social circles.
What I want to know is how I can make sure my grudge against him is extremely evident to other people without doing ridiculous things. Basically I want people to side with me without having to bring the situation up all the time and whine about it. I want tips on how to physically display my grudge in a civilized manner.
Can you guys help?
Trevor |
Listen SPITZ, our advice here has been subtle, but sound. You'll notice none of us has replied to your request for almost 2 solid months. It's little things like this that you need to do when you are bearing the cross of a minor grudge.
Don't take all this personally, we don't have any real grudge against you but we felt this would be the best way to get our message across: when it comes to a grudge, it's the small things that count. |
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Steve |
Awaiting wisdom... |
Paul |
Awaiting wisdom... |
Chris |
Awaiting wisdom...badda bing badda boom |
Off Road Skid Marks
October 26th, 2006
Tabitha Crenshaw writes:
Hello Setbacks,
You are not going to believe what happened to me this week. It totally bummed me out and I looked like a total sketch. It went down like this: I was at a Rob Thomas concert, floor seats, totally awesome, and I notice a hot dude scoping me out from a few seats down. I play it cool, but meet his eyes a few times. Later, by planned coincidence, I ended up behind him in line to get some Smirnoff Ices and we start chatting.
One thing leads to another and we end up at my place, getting hot and heavy. Turns out he’s the type of guy who likes to take a ladies clothes off slowly, totally driving me wild. We get down to the basics, and he’s down south getting to the goods. Suddenly he cools off, and says he’s got to leave. I’m standing there with my panties around my knees when I look down and notice some dark brown marks inside the last line of defence. Totally embarrassing guys! Now whenever I hear Rob Thomas I think of my panty problem.
How can I avoid this, and how do I clean all my existing undergarments to get rid of these skid marks?
Trevor |
Listen CRENSHAW! This is an important question, and one that not a lot of people would have the stones to ask. Particularly not a lady. At least you can be sure you've come to the right group of guys. After sharing accomodations with the other three guys, I can tell you there are times I thought Steve only had brown underwear. Turns out he has none!
First thing's first. Toss all skivies that have a chocolate swipe, start clean. In the future, inspect each pair for Hershey Squirts before you toss them in the hamper. If you see signs of a shart, RUB IT IN YOUR FACE! This is the only way you'll learn, you filthy filthy girl. Good luck! |
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Steve |
Whenever *I* hear Rob Thomas I think of tonnes of gay midgets slapping eachother's balls while they step on kittens heads and rub old cheese on their nipples.
Now I'll just think of your shit-tagged unmentionables instead! That's a major improvement. Man, blue skies are rolling in and the forecast for my life just got a lot sunnier. Thanks! |
Paul |
Awaiting wisdom... |
Chris |
Holy Fuck!
That is the grossest thing I have ever heard, ever! Put them in the wash you dirty bitch! EW. |