My wife goes to Wal-Mart and I chose the store. We went our separate ways with our phones and list. I walk in to a Hy-Vee at Lake of the Ozarks and I notice how clean and crowded it is. Out of the corner of my eye I see a man standing behind what looked like a Tiki Bar. This might be just what the doctor order but I decide to wait until the task at hand was done.
I was on my way down aisle 1 and decided to get the fruits and veggies first. Well, that went well. I pulled an orange out and 50 of them hit the floor. I could not stop laughing as I picked them up. So many people were watching me so I felt bad about putting them back on the display so I started bagging them up. I had 8 bags of oranges. I thought I should be standing at an off ramp in California.
I spent the next 20 minutes thinking where I could hide my oranges. If I had to hide them one by one like an Easter egg hunt then so be it. I was not going to leave with a years supply of Vitamin C. I strolled down Aisle 2 and came face to face with some toothless hillbilly wearing a wife beater t-shirt with a cart of beer. I am sure that deodorant was not on his list but nevertheless when he walked away from his cart to get something I placed a bag of oranges in his cart and took off. He needed vitamin D, not C, but too late for that.
With one bag down and 7 to go I knew I had to act fast before I came face to face with the man from Deliverance. As I rounded Aisle 2 I saw a man behind a tiki bar offering $4 margaritas. $4.00, what a bargain. I bought one and convinced the guy that a bag of oranges would look great on his bar and he agreed, 2 down and 6 to go.
I needed to get some frozen food and thought this would be a great place for some frozen OJ. I looked for witnesses, opened the freezer door and waited for it to frost over to obscure the view of the witness at the end. I placed my bag as if setting land mines. I then came upon a big bin of stuffed animals and rubber balls. You guessed it bag three covered with plush Elmos and "Smacky" the whack a moles.
By this time my drink is empty so I go back and get 2 more. Liquid courage at $4.00 a glass was not bad. I continued on my journey to find more hiding spots while still shopping for items on my list.
I needed cereal so off to another aisle. There was an unattended cart so I added oranges as if I were playing Santa on Christmas Eve. "Merry Christmas Fool", I thought in my head. Ok, another drink was in order. After all it is the holiday season, I justified to myself. I saw an opening in the cereal shelf that looked like a safe place so I placed two bags of my produce hell into the spot and moved Captain Crunch and Count Chocula in front to guard the little juicy balls of Florida sunshine.
Ok just a few more bags. I was looking for a one stop dump for the remainder of oranges. I knew that I had to act fast as I started seeing my drive by fruiting victims, but I sure was thirsty. Another drink and I set off to find meat, cheese and a place to bury the last of the oranges. I had become a regular at the tiki bar and decided it would be the last drink since the bartender refused to start a tab.
My hillbilly nightmare was checking out the meat section and left his cart near the little Debbie’s. I had to act fast if I was going to pull this off. I quickly threw the last of the bags in his cart crushing his bread and chips as I took off to the front of the store. I thought I would hear banjos and have to squeal like a pig if he caught me. Visions of Ned Beatty flashed through my head. I felt like a terrorist trying to go thru a checkpoint while waiting for Clara Coupon to find her .25 cent coupon for cat food. I looked in my cart and saw a bag of oranges. Then right behind me was the hillbilly nomad with a cart of oranges and I thought this could not end well. I decided to pretend like I did not see him and grabbed my oranges and made a loud announcement to the cashier that I did not want these oranges, that someone had put them in my cart. Thank God banjo boy said that someone had put oranges in his cart as well. We both kind of smiled, me with my teeth and him with a black hole but I got the jest. I was off the hook.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
My First Time Really Hurt
I remember my first time. I was nervous, yet excited. The thought of doing something new with a bunch of people watching seemed like a rite of passage. Sure we all tried it alone the first time, then we joined our friends and soon we were doing it all day and night. When we were done our legs were so tired we could not walk. Only then it was time to park it and call it a night. Get you minds out of the gutter. I am talking about bike spin class.
I finally worked up the courage to poke my head in and see what was going on in the door marked 'Spin Class'. Sure I had heard people talk about how great their Spin class was, but not being in shape I was embarrassed to ask what it was exactly. When I saw all these people in rows spinning their wheels it made me laugh, but I wanted the challenge.
I was asked if I wanted to join in and I agreed. I hoisted my big ass up onto the bike, waited for the music to start and off I went. I am not Lance Armstrong so within a few minutes I was ready to do the Tour De Snack Bar. Some anorexic, boney, bleached out blonde with rawhide luggage skin was cycling away next to me asked me if it was my first time. Are you kidding me? With this small cycle seat buried in my butt I felt like I was getting my annual from the doc with the big hands. I smiled with sweat flying in every direction and replied with a grin and said, 'it sure feels like it.' She was not ammused. My new found class companion with her luggage tag earrings was not breaking a sweat at all. She did however have allergies. She did not have a cutesy little sneeze, a girl sneeze, a dainty sneeze, she had a sneeze seizure with a teretz chaser. It was the most vile thing that I have ever witnessed...except for me in the mirror on a spin bike. She wiped her arm accross her nose and left a trail on her arm that looked like a slug crawled up it. Just what slugs like...sweat and salt. At this point my butt hurt, my arms felt stupid and sweat was pouring into my eyes. I was done. I removed the impailed bike seat from my backside and said good-bye to my new walking appetite suppressant friend, named Rita. The instructor yells that he will see me next week. The only way he will see me is if he visits me at Baskins Robbins.
I finally worked up the courage to poke my head in and see what was going on in the door marked 'Spin Class'. Sure I had heard people talk about how great their Spin class was, but not being in shape I was embarrassed to ask what it was exactly. When I saw all these people in rows spinning their wheels it made me laugh, but I wanted the challenge.
I was asked if I wanted to join in and I agreed. I hoisted my big ass up onto the bike, waited for the music to start and off I went. I am not Lance Armstrong so within a few minutes I was ready to do the Tour De Snack Bar. Some anorexic, boney, bleached out blonde with rawhide luggage skin was cycling away next to me asked me if it was my first time. Are you kidding me? With this small cycle seat buried in my butt I felt like I was getting my annual from the doc with the big hands. I smiled with sweat flying in every direction and replied with a grin and said, 'it sure feels like it.' She was not ammused. My new found class companion with her luggage tag earrings was not breaking a sweat at all. She did however have allergies. She did not have a cutesy little sneeze, a girl sneeze, a dainty sneeze, she had a sneeze seizure with a teretz chaser. It was the most vile thing that I have ever witnessed...except for me in the mirror on a spin bike. She wiped her arm accross her nose and left a trail on her arm that looked like a slug crawled up it. Just what slugs like...sweat and salt. At this point my butt hurt, my arms felt stupid and sweat was pouring into my eyes. I was done. I removed the impailed bike seat from my backside and said good-bye to my new walking appetite suppressant friend, named Rita. The instructor yells that he will see me next week. The only way he will see me is if he visits me at Baskins Robbins.
Why Does My Waitress Smell?
Sorry I missed a day everybody but I injured my back with one of those brutal machines at the gym. I took a few pain killers on an empty stomach. If I had blogged during that time my rantings probably would have been even more confusing than ever.
The other day I spent a little time with my dog before leaving to meet some people for lunch. I noticed that while doing so that my pants were wrinkled so I decided to iron them. I took them off and stood at the ironing bored. I took my glasses off while I ironed so that they would not fog up. I started to smell something and could not figure it out. I thought the dog farted or better yet I did and I was getting too old to know that I had. Anyway, I finished ironing and got dressed and out the door I went.
I was first to the resturant so I sat down and waited in the lobby. While I was waiting I started to smell the same smell and thought OMG I am getting old and I've done it again. Well my friends showed up and we were seated. I started looking at other people's food around us to see what could possibly be so foul. It was not overwhelming, but just a wofting smell occassionally. Then my friends started smelling it so I excused myself to the restroom to see if I had stepped in doog poop. Ok, clear...it was not that. A true nightmare had it been true. I would have left that scent everywhere including my car. A smudge here and a smudge there. An ultimate horror story. I found myself thinking I was the object of some bowel conspiracy and I was to be the last to know. When I got to the table my friends told me the smell had stopped. I am just glad that they are not smart enough to put two and two together. After about 5 minutes they started smelling it again. They started blaiming our waitress and I chimed in. Anything to take the attention off me.
About 15 minutes later I had an ephinay...I looked at my pants, with my glasses on and relized that I had ironed over dog hair. I had burned dog hair onto my pants. I might as well have set the dog on fire then roll around on it. The more that I touched my pants or moved around, the more I created a scratch and sniff of dog fire.
The other day I spent a little time with my dog before leaving to meet some people for lunch. I noticed that while doing so that my pants were wrinkled so I decided to iron them. I took them off and stood at the ironing bored. I took my glasses off while I ironed so that they would not fog up. I started to smell something and could not figure it out. I thought the dog farted or better yet I did and I was getting too old to know that I had. Anyway, I finished ironing and got dressed and out the door I went.
I was first to the resturant so I sat down and waited in the lobby. While I was waiting I started to smell the same smell and thought OMG I am getting old and I've done it again. Well my friends showed up and we were seated. I started looking at other people's food around us to see what could possibly be so foul. It was not overwhelming, but just a wofting smell occassionally. Then my friends started smelling it so I excused myself to the restroom to see if I had stepped in doog poop. Ok, clear...it was not that. A true nightmare had it been true. I would have left that scent everywhere including my car. A smudge here and a smudge there. An ultimate horror story. I found myself thinking I was the object of some bowel conspiracy and I was to be the last to know. When I got to the table my friends told me the smell had stopped. I am just glad that they are not smart enough to put two and two together. After about 5 minutes they started smelling it again. They started blaiming our waitress and I chimed in. Anything to take the attention off me.
About 15 minutes later I had an ephinay...I looked at my pants, with my glasses on and relized that I had ironed over dog hair. I had burned dog hair onto my pants. I might as well have set the dog on fire then roll around on it. The more that I touched my pants or moved around, the more I created a scratch and sniff of dog fire.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Jason's Deli Burns My Buns
Not much to post tonight. Did not see that rain coming. I just had dirt delivered this morning and BAM...chocolate pudding. I think it will be ok. Well anyway...I have been ordering the lo-cal turkey wrap and it is awesome. I was at work and decided to order this awesome meal. I could not beleive that thier was a $6.00 delivery charge. Holy Crap Batman.
I let it go and then the next day we ordered again....this time I wanted to know what the charge covered. On the form it said that the Delivery charge did not include driver gratuity. Jason's Deli on 120th tried to tell us that it was all for insurance since the driver used thier own car. Another Jason Deli told us it was 3.00 for insurance and 3.00 for the driver. I asked the driver and he told me that the store gets half and the driver gets half. After work I called the same store and was told that the driver is given gas money at the end of the night depending on the number of deliveries and the rest is for paper products for the meal. I decided to call again today just to get someone else. I was told that that part of the money was for insurance and the rest was for delivery cost of the product. I called an hour ago to get someone else and I was told 5.00 for insurance and 1.00 for delivery supplies. Why the scam?
The highest delivery charge for Pizza Hut is 2.50 and other places charged 1.00 to 4.00.....If I was ordering just one sandwhich for me then the delivery charge would be more than my order. I do not agree with this type of business. I support your right to overcharge for delivery charges but I do not support your deceit in printing that the 6.00 does not include driver gratuity. So...if you tip a driver 5 bucks you are actually tipping him 8.00 Shame on you Jason's Deli. Shame on you. You should hang your head in shame. With the economy like it is you should be helping your customers not supporting false advertisement.
This is the kind of stuff that lands companies in court with class action suits.
I let it go and then the next day we ordered again....this time I wanted to know what the charge covered. On the form it said that the Delivery charge did not include driver gratuity. Jason's Deli on 120th tried to tell us that it was all for insurance since the driver used thier own car. Another Jason Deli told us it was 3.00 for insurance and 3.00 for the driver. I asked the driver and he told me that the store gets half and the driver gets half. After work I called the same store and was told that the driver is given gas money at the end of the night depending on the number of deliveries and the rest is for paper products for the meal. I decided to call again today just to get someone else. I was told that that part of the money was for insurance and the rest was for delivery cost of the product. I called an hour ago to get someone else and I was told 5.00 for insurance and 1.00 for delivery supplies. Why the scam?
The highest delivery charge for Pizza Hut is 2.50 and other places charged 1.00 to 4.00.....If I was ordering just one sandwhich for me then the delivery charge would be more than my order. I do not agree with this type of business. I support your right to overcharge for delivery charges but I do not support your deceit in printing that the 6.00 does not include driver gratuity. So...if you tip a driver 5 bucks you are actually tipping him 8.00 Shame on you Jason's Deli. Shame on you. You should hang your head in shame. With the economy like it is you should be helping your customers not supporting false advertisement.
This is the kind of stuff that lands companies in court with class action suits.
Physcopath At Hy-vee On The Loose
I decided to take the night off from exercising and enjoy the company of some of my friends. I had a good time but something in me wanted to do something. I felt like a slug. I felt like there was something that I could have done or should have done.
It reminds me of the other night when I went to the store and was unloading my cart. I looked at the conveyor belt and pictured myself knocking the groceries off and use it as a treadmill. The thought of it made me laugh. I started laughing out loud. Then I really started laughing. I tried to explain it to the cashier who kept saying, "What? What?" Trying to explain was of no use becasue I now had tears in my eyes and was still laughing thinking about jogging and face planting on the bar code reader. Then I thought about how high the bill would be if I reached the scales and they charged me by the pound.
I looked like a physcopath laughing. I guess what I am trying to say is that I am addicted to trying to do something healthy for my body when I can. I have a wandering mind and sometimes my mind creates what if scenarios with my thoughts. Thank you for letting me share. If there is subject you would like for me to check out or write about just let me know.
It reminds me of the other night when I went to the store and was unloading my cart. I looked at the conveyor belt and pictured myself knocking the groceries off and use it as a treadmill. The thought of it made me laugh. I started laughing out loud. Then I really started laughing. I tried to explain it to the cashier who kept saying, "What? What?" Trying to explain was of no use becasue I now had tears in my eyes and was still laughing thinking about jogging and face planting on the bar code reader. Then I thought about how high the bill would be if I reached the scales and they charged me by the pound.
I looked like a physcopath laughing. I guess what I am trying to say is that I am addicted to trying to do something healthy for my body when I can. I have a wandering mind and sometimes my mind creates what if scenarios with my thoughts. Thank you for letting me share. If there is subject you would like for me to check out or write about just let me know.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Here, take my pants.
I am all about free enterprise and I applaud you for your success but are you serious. I had some time to kill after the gym this morning and before a 7:40 appointment so I decided to get some shorts and stuff from Wallmart at 119th and Metcalf. I know that it was only 5:50 am but I wanted to use the dressing room. I was told if someone accidently left it unlocked I could use it. Well it was locked. I was told by three people that until the day shift got there I was not allowed to use the fitting room because there is no one there to monitor it.
I was the only patron in the store with about 60 employees. Could one person had found me a place to try on my merchandise. I found this disturbing, very disturbing. It is Wallmart not Tiffanys fo New York. I am sure that security had every camera in the place on me. LOL I went to the cashier and checked out and handed him a stack of clothes and said I can't get these because I could not try them on and all he said was, "Oh Well". I wanted to take the little smiley face badge and rip it off his vest. I can not beleive because someone could not let me try on some running shorts because there are dressing room hour that they let me walk out. I did get some gum and a few personal items. I also tried to get into the area where the birthday cards were and there was caution tape all the way around for stripping the floor. I needed a card for my boss's birthday. I could not reach them so I had to get her a singing chipmunk card. Nothing screams scarey like a singing rat. I had to reach in and get the card on my tip toes and nearly pulled every muscle in my back. Wally World was not on thier game today and it showed. I will give them another chance this weekend and let you know. P.S. The MGM Grand Hotel and Casino was built in 17 months, why is it taking your store a million years to move the underwear section to the automotive and the car batteries to the linens etc... You have been doing this for a million years. Please park your panties and serve the customers. Your store smelled like baby spit up today. If you need to channel Sam then do it cause I am giving this location one more chance and you need some pointers. And clean up some of your customer service people up front. I walk in there and feel like I am in a soup kitchen. Have them say hello and not just stand there and finish thier conversation before addressing people. One more thing...why does the person that answers your phone never ask if you can hold or says I will transfer you or come back when she has left you on terminal hold. She is rude. When she did come back last week when I called I told her I had been on hold for 15 minutes. She told me that she thought that if no one picked up where she tranfered it, that I would have known to hang up. Get some music on hold because dead silence sucks. Have a nice day and tell the other fortune 500 out of touch people I said hello.
I was the only patron in the store with about 60 employees. Could one person had found me a place to try on my merchandise. I found this disturbing, very disturbing. It is Wallmart not Tiffanys fo New York. I am sure that security had every camera in the place on me. LOL I went to the cashier and checked out and handed him a stack of clothes and said I can't get these because I could not try them on and all he said was, "Oh Well". I wanted to take the little smiley face badge and rip it off his vest. I can not beleive because someone could not let me try on some running shorts because there are dressing room hour that they let me walk out. I did get some gum and a few personal items. I also tried to get into the area where the birthday cards were and there was caution tape all the way around for stripping the floor. I needed a card for my boss's birthday. I could not reach them so I had to get her a singing chipmunk card. Nothing screams scarey like a singing rat. I had to reach in and get the card on my tip toes and nearly pulled every muscle in my back. Wally World was not on thier game today and it showed. I will give them another chance this weekend and let you know. P.S. The MGM Grand Hotel and Casino was built in 17 months, why is it taking your store a million years to move the underwear section to the automotive and the car batteries to the linens etc... You have been doing this for a million years. Please park your panties and serve the customers. Your store smelled like baby spit up today. If you need to channel Sam then do it cause I am giving this location one more chance and you need some pointers. And clean up some of your customer service people up front. I walk in there and feel like I am in a soup kitchen. Have them say hello and not just stand there and finish thier conversation before addressing people. One more thing...why does the person that answers your phone never ask if you can hold or says I will transfer you or come back when she has left you on terminal hold. She is rude. When she did come back last week when I called I told her I had been on hold for 15 minutes. She told me that she thought that if no one picked up where she tranfered it, that I would have known to hang up. Get some music on hold because dead silence sucks. Have a nice day and tell the other fortune 500 out of touch people I said hello.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Chasing It Like A Dog
Was able to scoot a bit early so that I could go buy a couple pairs of pants and shirts since I am losing weight and lost so much in the flood. Waiting for the Wonderful people of Met Life to dance with my contractors and come up with a damage estimate that I can live with is wearing me out. . Well any way back to me. I was at JCP (which is where Met Life decided I should go to replace everything since they depreciated everything down to next to nothing. Since I am a shrinking man who once was 5 foot 8 1/2 and now is 5 foor 7 I was not sure about my inseam.
I did not want to pull my pants down in the middle of the store to try and find the tag to see what I was currently wearing so I asked where the dressing rooms were. This would be a normal request however, I did not take the clothes with me and just headed down the aisle leaving a confused cashier at his helm. I went into the dressing room and tried to find the tag on my pants and found it. It was not in front it was in back so I tried to see it. Now, I said I was losing weight, not lost all of it. I tried very hard to get a look at it so I started turning around chasing the tag. Thinking if I could just get a glimpse of it. I am sure the sight of my feet under the door chasing my tag was quite a show for anyone wating but when I exited the stall I was carrying nothing in my hands. This did not dawn on me till I heard security radio static come from a guys shopping bag. I guess I was a person of interest. I should have started barking and paid for my clothes in dog biscuts. Thank you J.C Penny for looking out for the bottom line. P.S. Clean up your changing rooms. It looked like a BP gas station restroom.
I did not want to pull my pants down in the middle of the store to try and find the tag to see what I was currently wearing so I asked where the dressing rooms were. This would be a normal request however, I did not take the clothes with me and just headed down the aisle leaving a confused cashier at his helm. I went into the dressing room and tried to find the tag on my pants and found it. It was not in front it was in back so I tried to see it. Now, I said I was losing weight, not lost all of it. I tried very hard to get a look at it so I started turning around chasing the tag. Thinking if I could just get a glimpse of it. I am sure the sight of my feet under the door chasing my tag was quite a show for anyone wating but when I exited the stall I was carrying nothing in my hands. This did not dawn on me till I heard security radio static come from a guys shopping bag. I guess I was a person of interest. I should have started barking and paid for my clothes in dog biscuts. Thank you J.C Penny for looking out for the bottom line. P.S. Clean up your changing rooms. It looked like a BP gas station restroom.
Did You Ever Just Want To Punch Someone?
I guess it is not good to BLOG when you are very hungry. I was on a short fuse mentally and physically. I had to workout. Went straight to the gym from work. Sure, my friend the treadmill and I got physical right off the bat, leaving me sweaty and begging for it to stop but behind me I kept hearing some meathead constantly slam the floor with weights. (if you can't put it back up where it goes then maybe it is to heavy) I like to give the benefit of doubt but for an hour straight. I finally turned around and glared at this moron. I think he knew what I was doing because he did not do it again. If I actually thought that I could run fast enough I would wet the end of my towel and snap the meatheads block right off sending it flying across the room. I would have used his head to play tether ball with a crowbar.
I can not get the hang of the elliptical. For the love of God. I am the most uncoordinated person on this machine. I want to meet the person that designed it and set them up with my sister. That would definitely serve him right. I love revenge. I am ok with the bike. Love it. A lot of work but a fan in front of the bike would be nice and it would give some real feel to it. I was so hungry tonight. THe risistance bands made me want spaghetti, the exercise ball were meatballs and the bench press was a cheese grater.
I normally have been able to keep cravings away but tonight was horrible. No matter what channel that I turn to there is food. If I did know better I would say the magazine is filming me and trying to test me. I keep thinking about my friends that support me and the other 11 contestans that are going thru the same thing and I pull thru it to live another day.
Thanks for your support.
I can not get the hang of the elliptical. For the love of God. I am the most uncoordinated person on this machine. I want to meet the person that designed it and set them up with my sister. That would definitely serve him right. I love revenge. I am ok with the bike. Love it. A lot of work but a fan in front of the bike would be nice and it would give some real feel to it. I was so hungry tonight. THe risistance bands made me want spaghetti, the exercise ball were meatballs and the bench press was a cheese grater.
I normally have been able to keep cravings away but tonight was horrible. No matter what channel that I turn to there is food. If I did know better I would say the magazine is filming me and trying to test me. I keep thinking about my friends that support me and the other 11 contestans that are going thru the same thing and I pull thru it to live another day.
Thanks for your support.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Fat People Do Home Projects
Cigarette in hand my beloved wife held the ladder and my life in her hands between bouts of scattered showers today. Gutters filled with natures debris and what looked like potted plants and miniature bonsai trees. A procrastination of the worst kind. I had cleaned them out once in the not so recent past. With the ladder, or what I call the Russian roulette of safety devices underneath my wet tennis shoes, I attempted to remove gunk with assorted household items and tools. With each step I read the words WEIGHT LIMIT 225 POUNDS on the ladder wondering if each step would be my last. My mind kept wandering as I pictured the step giving way in a movie coreographed stunt man slow motion account, my spatuala and spoon tossing into the distance as I land on my wife crushing her as her cigarette burned a hole into my retna.
I pictured my first order of business after leaving the hospital was to pay Home Depot a little visit. I would limp into the store pushing my mangeled wife in a wheelbarrow covered in mulch and mud, bent cigarette and all. My eye patch would obscure my vision so I would need to be carefull about tripping on her IV's and Oxygen tubing. I would place the scap metal (once called a ladder) at the managers feet and inquire as to why the 6 foot step ladders only hold 225 pounds. I am thinking this as I am on the ladder and a friend drives by and both of us take our hands off the ladder to wave as she honks.
I pictured my first order of business after leaving the hospital was to pay Home Depot a little visit. I would limp into the store pushing my mangeled wife in a wheelbarrow covered in mulch and mud, bent cigarette and all. My eye patch would obscure my vision so I would need to be carefull about tripping on her IV's and Oxygen tubing. I would place the scap metal (once called a ladder) at the managers feet and inquire as to why the 6 foot step ladders only hold 225 pounds. I am thinking this as I am on the ladder and a friend drives by and both of us take our hands off the ladder to wave as she honks.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Subcribe to the new "BOB SAY WHAT" blog.
With more free time on my hands I decided to start blogging again. I toyed with it for a very long time and decided just to do it. I pretty much will blog about anything but I am pretty focused on people and services. My daily life is pretty fun. Good friends and co-workers. If you have a topic you want me to write about then just contact me and I will check it out. I have a lot of resources so checking things out is pretty fun and easy. Please help me launch this Blog. I will take advertisers no matter how big or small. You have a business then hit me up.
Please be sure to HIT THE SUBSCRIBE BUTTON and receive notification and a link when a new post has been added. You wont be sorry and make sure to take advantage of the polls that I post.
Please be sure to HIT THE SUBSCRIBE BUTTON and receive notification and a link when a new post has been added. You wont be sorry and make sure to take advantage of the polls that I post.
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