Guys and balls.

Storm Watch 2005 is upon us here in Southern California, and there is panic in the streets. People really fucking freak out when there is any rain (be it a light drizzle or a heavy downpour) coming down. It gets my road rage up, man.

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So, remember the guy that stood me up? Yeah. I was perusing ads on the website where he found me, and he created a new profile with new pictures. The original ad he placed had a few dimly light pictures that were hard to make out, but the one that was the most recent was pretty good, so I wasn’t so nervous about him.

Then I saw the new ad. Clearly, the guy in the good picture was a fluke, because in the three new pictures, he is substantially heavier, and way less attractive (which I don’t care about, but be up front about it). But that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that he is in this cheesy model-type pose, with no shoes on, and also featured prominently in the photos IS HIS FUCKING BOWLING BALL.

I have nothing against bowling. I don’t do it.

But don’t take pictures with your fucking bowling ball and expect chicks to get turned on by it. If I had any balls (and not the bowling kind) at all, I would post the pics here, but I don’t. And that requires more technological skills than I got, yo (my layout alone should be indication of my suave computer skills).

I have never been so happy to be blown off in my life.

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This weekend is the white trash super bowl, with the Daytona 500 on Sunday. Hot damn I love me some nascar. I have embraced my hillbilly heritage, and watch it every Sunday like some trailer park lunatic.

You got to love a sport where even the announcers sound like they just walked off the set of Hee-Haw.