Tuesday, June 21, 2005

A cry for help

Due to my recent exercise kick (and the bitches at the rec center—those enablers!) I have done enough lat pulls that I am currently unable to lift my arms above my shoulders.

I am like John McCain. Who will comb my hair? Who will put silly and demeaning birthday hats on my head? Most importantly, who will pick out the wild-berry skittles that have become stuck in my hair after taking a nap on my WBS covered bed?

8 comments:

amanda said...

"An accident? Yeah. You tripped, fell over, and stuck your dick in my wife."

Ed Grow said...

Mands-
Haw-haw! Reminds me of the Simpson's where some criminal is telling the shady doctor, he "tripped and fell on the bullet."

-mandy- said...

oh wow. my diagnosis: ed has WAY too much free time.
but thanks, pal. now come visit me.

Rob Danger said...

Just tell people you're going for the 'tousled' look. That's what I say when I get up too late to comb my hair before classes.

Ed Grow said...

Mandy-

Bitch please. I have so much shit going on, it would blow your mind you emo-listening panera-working, summer-school flunky!

Flesh-

Yeah. Thank god I don't have anyone to look good for right now. The hobo-chic look I was cultivating is just turning out as 'hobo'.

-mandy- said...

pshaw. i am xhardxcorex. forget your shit and visit me. seriously. i'll buy the loaf of crappy walmart bread and pay for the gas to get us to berjuan. now all i need is a full moon and an ed.

Ed Grow said...

That is right you ass-clown! All anyone needs for self-actualization are carbohydrates and Ed Grow!

Ms Bees Knees said...

I will place a pen in your hand and then you will look like Bob Dole. And then I will make you go "I am Bob Dole, I am Bob Dole" in monotone and then we will laugh, like children, together.