When reading a blog, rarely do I care what makes you an expert. I do not research your validity, your background, college, current profession or name. It’s the topic Mr. Anderson…it’s what I Googled. It’s what returned. Where are these people searching for answers on your background on the internet?
It smells. It’s the taste. Your facts sound good, prestigious…I didn’t get past the third word in your bio. Keep it short, keep it factual, shrugs. Make it sound like music to my ears.
My phone doesn’t know who you are yet.
- Do you watch The Sopranos? Meadow is loosing her shit
- What is a question that makes you feel good?
- What year is The Sopranos set in?
- What does 4:44 mean?
Seven psychopaths. Old witches meet MTV’s Real World Road Rules Challenge. This is bonkers. They are 50. I don’t know if anybody is taking notes but all of these women are divorced. Dating doesn’t get better for them they just talk more. Nobody listens to Sonya. I will make your issue about me in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Dorinda the stories she tells are legend. This friendship above anything. How you choose to live your life is up to you. I will be screaming in here in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
I’ve been to a retirement home mixer so I can say this, Frankel’s holiday party had that feel. How many “mashuganas” can one person hear that night over the curtains. Was anybody there on an air tank stroller? How was midnight bingo? That sounds kinda fucking cool actually.
Donald Trump is a dead ringer for Ramona. Wild birds. Jule’s husband was looking around the room for his divorce. Prediction: Luann’s new husband will also leave her. What good is freedom if it means being boring?
This show is when a lucid dream and what I can only imagine as acid meets. It is all over the place. This show is run by lunatic geniuses. Today is this dudes birthday, he got shot in the eyes, his classic car was scratched by his partner. A mess. What is this dudes problem? Soon they are gonna start cooking blue meth.
Click the pic below for details.