tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60628586132744387712011-06-24T08:55:12.748-05:00This is my life… sometimes I'm a pain in the ass.Jessicanoreply@blogger.comBlogger61100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6062858613274438771.post-62605408796208382542007-08-31T17:38:00.000-05:002007-08-31T17:39:22.633-05:00Peter: "I'm the best topless show in Las Vegas!"<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6062858613274438771-6260540879620838254?l=pitola.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jessicanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6062858613274438771.post-51401834406941248752007-06-14T22:34:00.000-05:002007-06-14T22:39:40.041-05:00The wheels on the bus go round and round...<br /><br />The Nose Picker<br />Mr. Schizo<br />Mrs. "I Dream of Jeanie" Hair Piece<br />Cute Old Man with a Cane<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6062858613274438771-5140183440694124875?l=pitola.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jessicanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6062858613274438771.post-29474906276208473162007-06-14T22:30:00.000-05:002007-06-14T22:32:59.158-05:00"Olie! ... Olie! Damnit, she's in the basement eating turds." - Patrick<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6062858613274438771-2947490627620847316?l=pitola.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jessicanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6062858613274438771.post-8434187810220537472007-05-31T22:38:00.000-05:002007-05-31T22:42:47.458-05:00"During the day I'm a mild mannered stoner. At night I'm a super hero." - Patrick<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6062858613274438771-843418781022053747?l=pitola.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jessicanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6062858613274438771.post-37120062654930207132007-05-29T21:06:00.001-05:002007-05-29T21:08:49.324-05:00Ba-donka-donk blonds who don't pull forward to the next gas pump.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6062858613274438771-3712006265493020713?l=pitola.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jessicanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6062858613274438771.post-71261394071737991992007-05-29T20:56:00.000-05:002007-05-29T21:08:20.683-05:00"This morning I woke up in a chick sandwich!" my brother, Patrick proclaimed one bright, winter morning.<br /><br />“Sweet!” I replied.<br /><br />I then immediately text messaged it to my boy toy, Peter. He has a way of taking such statements and finding a new and only slightly funny way to use it… over and over again. “I had a chick sandwich for lunch” is one classic example. Almost as bad as me having <a href="http://www.fiveguys.com/" target="_blank">Five Guys</a> for lunch.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6062858613274438771-7126139407173799199?l=pitola.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jessicanoreply@blogger.com0