Instead of scoring a UPS package my old lady lost her purse.
No body shame here, because reality TV leader has “no desire” to be thin again.
“I think I look good and my boyfriend thinks I look good.’
FEATURED: The return of Shamu
And people wonder why I gaze at men.
Unfortunately Lane Bryant had to outsource a the butt bongos soundtrack after things weren’t so tonal with in-house talent.
I also miss the gum.
You really shouldn’t punch blind kids.
Guessing this was in fucking California bro.
Yves St. Laurent created something similar for dudes, but sensing perfection (party still rages even when put on backwards) he never bothered to rejigger a pair for the gals…
Enjoy some prime JACK MAEHOFFER:
My yenta psychiatrist charges me $250 per hour of shit – I’ll give you the highlights for free. First off, she’s every bit of 240lbs. And wears these open toed sandals.
When I sit across the desk from her, she kicks her sandals off and these feet are literally under my chair. These things could stop the Flintstone car on a ski jump. Staring at these goddamn feet- she’s got the hair, the voice, wears like 3 scarve s- Netanyahu would say she’s too jewish.
Yenta Psychiatrist: Can we talk about intimacy?
Jack Maehoffer: -but I’m a married man.
YP: For now.
YP: Since we upped the Lexapro dosage, any problem with getting an erection or maintaining one?
JM: Well I couldn’t get one now if that’s what you’re asking.
YP: How are you doing with smoking?
JM: cut way back. feeling better. More energy.
YP: You reek of cigarette smoke.
JM: Reeking? Sure you have a great sense of smell, but reeking?
YP: I’m going to write a script for Chantix.
JM: No you’re not. You’ve got me on 4 pills now. And that stuff gives me bad dreams, tried it before.
YP: Yeah, you dream that you can’t smoke … History of alcohol abuse in your family?
YP: Who specifically?
JM: All of them.
YP: All of them, what does that mean, who specifically?
JM: Well I’m 50% Irish – 50% Pollock. They’re all drunks.
YP: So are you aware that you’re high risk?
JM: By being Irish, yes.
YP: (laughing) I know Irish men who don’t drink.
JM: I know Jewish women who don’t nag.
YP: Is your father an alcoholic?
YP: Was his father?
YP: Was your mother’s father?
JM: Hell yes.
(starts writing in her fucking notebook)
JM: Look, what are you writing about, there’s no liquor in the house anymore, no beer in the fridge.
YP: Is there vodka in the trunk of your car right now?
JM: to the best of my knowledge, no.
YP: Do you drink at work?
YP: I’ve heard differently. You’ve never had a drink during a workday?
JM: Different question.
YP: This is not a court of law.
JM: No shit?
YP: I am trying to help you. I need you to help me, help you.
JM: I appreciate that.
YP: So, Jack, let’s try again. Do you have an occasional drink during the workday?
YP: Do you have a gambling problem?
YP: Do you gamble on sports?
YP: Please, let’s be open. Do you gamble on football games yes or no?
YP: Do you, and I quote, “sit in front of the television on Sundays, drinking and talking on the phone with your friends about gambling, using terribly racist language in front of the children, then pass out on the couch around 8:00?”
JM: Now I can’t watch football?
– – –
Thank you, Jack, for not going gently into that good night.