You guys know there's a couple of things in life I really like: purdy girls and booze. Granted, more of the latter makes more of the former, so it's obvious from this casual observer's eye that purdy girls and booze go hand in hand.
In case any of you haven't been reading the fabulous Kellie's blog, then you're missing out on some fantastic stories, some great humor and lots of the aforementioned purdy girls and booze. In other words, go over there and give her some blogly love...right after you finish reading this, of course.
I also like guns...which Kellie also provides on her blog! Who knew that Minnesota was paradise? Oh right, this guy.
In the wake of Dr. Zibbs offering up ad space for other bloggers on his internet sensation blog, I thought I'd offer Kellie an appearance in the weekly Latin Lesson. She jumped at the opportunity--which was a sight to behold, believe you me--and eagerly agreed to let me steal her picture off the header of her blog. And, before she swings in and bursts the bubble of my lies right here and/or sues me for sexual harassment and/or stealing her picture, let's get on with the Latin learning.
Also, if you look closely in her picture, you'll notice an extra special special guest.
Cervesia pota, pulchritudo cernitur.
Pronounced: "Care-waise-ee-uh poh-tah, pool-cree-too-doh cairn-ee-tour."
1 day ago
15 comments:
First one?? Wow. And I'm an ass so after analyzing the pic for 20 minutes now I'm clueless to the guest... I'll have to come back and read your other "educated" readers' comments. And by the way, your comment on using the "F" bomb with your mom for the first time was hilarious. I'd ask "How do you think of that shit", but then again, what a perfect comeback by any guy. Priceless once again.
I seriously thought the hovertext was gonna be:
"Man...what I wouldn't give to be celery."
@ Susan: I'm guessing Chemgeek will be the one to figure it out. I didn't realize the cameo was there until I blew the picture up bigger in order to crop it for my needs.
As for my mom, yeah, well, I have a sick mind, and she needed put in her place for a while. Plus, I figured that if she wanted to try to wash my mouth out with soap when I was 19, good luck.
@ moooooog35: I thought about fascium cum apia but decided I had already sexually harassed her enough, and her husband likes to shoot stuff, so I just let that one slide.
I almost didn't read this post since there was no cleavage:) I'm kidding (the smiley face at the end of the sentence should have told you :(actually, where's the cleavage???))
OK, there are actually two cameos. The guy at the bar is Steve from accounts receiving. Nice guy, but an alcoholic. The more important cameo is of one superb and poorly understood basketball coach who should have finished his career at one Indiana University. I can assure you, if he was still there Indiana basketball would not be in the quagmire it is now. His name, BTW, if Bobby Knight.
*is* not *if*.... idiot
Clearly a once-in-a-lifetime shot.
How do you say "A drunk is in the hand of the friend of the beer-holder?"
Simply fabolous and bold. The way you have described'hand in hand' , it looks like you have booze in one hand, and the purdy girls on the other.
What if you have to make a choice?
WE MISS BOBBY!
Especially after we've had a few beers and are watching IU bball.
Minnesota is paradise? How come we have to educate their children and sell the entire Twin Cities alcohol in Hudson on Sundays?
Anyway, "beauty is in the eye of the beer-holder" is often attributed to one of my favorite people.
Yes, the original Texas Jew-Boy himself, Kinky Friedman.
ew beer... nasty stuff.
Puns... good stuff.
I'm not reading the other comments first. I'm going with Bobby Knight...and the bald dude from the Jerry Springer show. ;)
aaaah ha ha ha ha ha ha!!! Good one!
I thought IU was already having problems before BK got overly physical with their players - if he had still been winning, they wouldn't have fired him, last chance or not.
I was not really a Knight fan - I believed (and still do) that some of his fan base was driven by a longing for the good ole days, when players were chattel and did what they were told, and coach was God, and authority was unquestionable. He was a good coach, and did lots of good things, but if your methods are not reality-based, eventually reality will bite back.
Is the extra special guest the celery or the weird staring guy in the corner?
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