Well good morning, good morning! It's Thursday!! Thursday is practically Friday and then I am off to Southlake for a relaxing weekend with my parents. Well, we'll see if I come back to Dallas Saturday to watch the Horns game, but for now, I plan on laying low and sipping vino with my favorite Florence Henderson look-alike, my mom!
Moving on, I was planning on writing a nice little quip about my sushi and sake dinner with @GMFett, our waiter with a rockin' stache (and ensuing jokes about mustache rides and happy endings), and the black gay couple sitting behind us who made my night by inhaling too much wasabi and simultaneously laughing, crying, and hollering their way through dinner.
My personal favorite line is, "I may be 22, but I'm not stupid."
Oh, honey, honey, honey...yes you are. And you aren't the prettiest peach in the basket, either. But you do rock a double chin quite nicely.
The real kicker is that she dropped the letter off at his house in person and then smashed into a stone column when leaving. I'm sure she is a very distraught young lady, but I am giggling nonetheless. This is like a bad (upper middle class) version of Cheaters.
The statement released by the Phillips' teenage son, however, just adds to the madness.
Really, Brooke? Riotgirr4life? That's the best screenname you can come up with to pretend to be this boy's classmate and then ask him inappropriate questions about his parents via AIM?
HOT MESS.
Almost as much of a hot mess as Steve himself. I guess the affairs with multiple women when you were GM for the Mets wasn't enough.
You had to have that side of bacon didn't you?
Hope it tasted as good as your divorce.
Cheaters never win, Steve. Cheaters never win.
Perhaps Steve and Marni should invest in counseling via the Cheaters website. Live online counseling starts at just $1.75/minute.
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