sobo

Free either way, huh?

WTF is that on her cheek and neck? Dried bukkake??

That depends. What are you looking for, and how much do you want?

It would appear that Choada Boy is an adherent of ZT policy. Good for you for allowing the dumpmaster some level of discretion on the enforcement of the $15 policy. Let me ask you one question: Do you partake of illegal drugs, in any manner, form, or quantity? For if you do, you may want to rethink your position, as you be a hypocrite. By your above comment, at the very least, you're a tool. I share Gary's consternation, specifically regarding what is clearly a classic case of ZT. While trying to take a load of yard waste to my local transfer station (where dumping is free for city residents, BTW), I was told that I needed proof of being a resident of Kennewick. The conversation went something like this: Dump Woman: "Do you have a driver's license?" Me: "Yes I do." (produced WDL) DW: "That's no good." Me: "Why not?" DW: "Because it has a Yakima address on it. We need to see a Kennewick address." Me: "Well, I changed my address online when I moved to Kennewick. The DOL doesn't require me to get a new license until this one expires next year." DW: "Well, that doesn't work for us." Me: "So, Waste Management has a higher burden of proof of my residency than the DOL, local law enforcement, and the State Patrol?" DW: "We tell people that you can put a stickie on the back of your license with your local address on it. Or you could bring in your Waste Management bill - that would work." Me: "I don't get a bill because I have the bill deducted automatically from my checking account... Hey, I have my checkbook on me! My checks have my Kennewick address on them." DW: "No, we'd need to see a bill." Me: "Well then, do you have a stickie I could use to put on my license now?" DW: "No." Me: "So I have to get out of the line that I've waited through for 45 minutes, go home, make a stickie, put it on my license, come back here, wait through the line until you see me again, and then you'll let me through?" DW: "Yes." Me: "Doesn't that seem just a tad bit ridiculous, seeing as how you would have no further proof of my residency than what you have right now?" DW: "No, you would have the stickie on the back with your current address on it." Me: ( becoming frustrated) "How about this: I have my voter registration card in my wallet right here. It has my Kennewick address..." DW: "No, I'd need a picture ID." Me: "Well, if I had a Waste Management bill, would that have a picture ID on it?" DW: "No." Me: "Are you beginning to see how ridiculous this conversation is...?" After another minute or so of this nonsense, it was made abundantly clear to me that I would not be allowed to dump my yard waste that day...

That's what an 8-year-old is for. BTW, VHS is sooooooooooo 90s...

I thought it was Steve Perry/Journey, too. Nice vid, Marc. Keep wrestling it. My thoughts exactly, Kimmo. 'boner, you're an ass.

I once walked up to the drive-thru window of an espresso shop to get a shot of caffeine. Freaked out the girls inside. After they calmed down, they told me they thought I came up to rob them. I said, "If I had wanted to rob you, would it not be more effective for me to be inside the store, since you can just leave the window if you don't want to give me your money?" Seems they'd been robbed at least once before, and they had just handed the thief the money through the window, after having left the window to get the money from the cash register...

Reminds me of this scene in 2001:

Go easy on him, Gary. He's a disenfranchised sanitation engineer, unable to accept or deal with changes to his daily regimen, or change at all, for that matter. And the blistering logic of your argument left him totally defenseless and unable to respond cogently. Pity him, for he knows not that he's a dump dumbass...

Yes, Virginia, there is a Beer Fairy...

Howz'bout an ice axe? One piece of gear, does two jorbs...

sources indicate he already has... and still does. sickie

YES, BUT THEIR FACES IZ NOT HAZ SMILEZ

Take your hand and place it on the little rounded plastic thingy with the long tail coming out of it (it's called a mouse) sitting next to you, and move it around to cause the little arrow thingy to move up into that rectangular box thingy (that's called an address bar) at the top of your screen (that's the TV-looking-thingy in front of you). Once your little arrow thingy is in that box thingy, type these letters (using the keyboard thingy with all of those pretty letters and stuff sitting in front of you): w - w - w - . - g - o - o - g - l - e - . - c - o - m and then move your little arrow thingy over to the little icon (that's a symbol thingy) that looks like a couple of green arrows chasing each other, or whatever else your particular operating system's platform may use for the "Enter" action. Then, if you wait just a little bit, this really really cool website thingy called "Google" will come up on your screen (that's the TV-looking-thingy again). This really really cool website thingy called Google will also have a rectangular box thingy (it's another address bar - imagine that!), right in the middle of your TV-looking-thingy. Now, use that keyboard thingy again to type in these letters: o - t - t - m - a - r - - l - i - e - b - e - r - t and do that "Enter" thingy again. Wait a little bit again, and you will see all sorts of different places (called websites, again) where you can go and find videos (those are like, short movies) to look at of this Ottmar guy playing this guitar thingy that you are so wrapped up in. Good luck, let me know if you have any trouble figuring this out, m'kay?

It is exceedingly difficult to perform any action upon that which does not exist.

Ottmar Liebert would smoke that guy.

Well Teresa, just a few minutes ago I rummaged around in the office refrigerator, and found one solitary canned beverage. I would not really call it beer, but it is marketed as such. I hardly think y'all will believe me when I say that I just drank a Bud Light. My brain is mush, and my vision is blurring. I'm going home to bed, now... G'night. I see myself being back at the office again tomorrow, at least for part of the day.

Bastard! Bastard! Bastard! Thank you, Steve, yah bastard!

HA!!!1 YOU'RE ALL WRONG!!!1 At this very moment, I am STILL at work, crunching away on the results of a bid opening for a project of mine that has been 5 FUCKING YEARS in the making! At long last, it's finally going to construction. Now, y'all need to know that I was supposed to be bivying in the snow up on Chinook Pass by now, having already imbibed copious amounts of various libations, blissfully snoozing away in preparation for my mountain rescue winter training excercise which begins tomorrow morning... But noooooooooooooooooooooooooo, here I sit, taking a short break from the monotonous drudgery that is the process of verification of bids received. And I thought I would get no more than a half-dozen bids. Should be easy enough to verify some bids and have my presentation ready for Monday night's council meeting without having to work late or miss my weekend, right? Shit, I got 15 fuq'n bids for this project! And bidders came as far away as Hayden, ID; Portland, OR, and Burlington, WA to bid on this puny little $3.5 million road job in Sunnyside. Apparently, there's a lot of hungry contractors out there that are willing to move their equipment some pretty hefty distances to try and win a job. Things are tough all over...

Judy Resnik - may she rest in pieces...

WTPH? Funny you should say that, Dave. "Phuc" is pronounced as "Fook", as you'd obviously guess. However, on one occasion (just one, mind you) while we were particularly stressed out over something involving acquiring The Boy, I referred to Mr. Phuc as how you might phonetically say it. My wife, horrified, shot me a "I'm gonna kick your fucking ass after Mr. Phuc leaves" look. I was like, "What?" It took a nanosecond for me to realize how I had just spoke his name. Mr. Phuc, true to his ever-casual self, blew it off like he never heard me. :whew: That's phucking hilarious! fixed it fer ya

Man, you guyz are harsh...

that's awesome - it sounds like the culprit was never caught? did the trip end more quickly w/ nothign to smoke? joshk and i increased our pace through the p-traverse by 5000% after our cigs ran out I was gonna say, Matt, WTF was this kid thinking? Since he had the entire stash, as soon as he lit up, everyone would know he was the culprit and the jig would be up. Clearly not thinking...

WTPH? Funny you should say that, Dave. "Phuc" is pronounced as "Fook", as you'd obviously guess. However, on one occasion (just one, mind you) while we were particularly stressed out over something involving acquiring The Boy, I referred to Mr. Phuc as how you might phonetically say it. My wife, horrified, shot me a "I'm gonna kick your fucking ass after Mr. Phuc leaves" look. I was like, "What?" It took a nanosecond for me to realize how I had just spoke his name. Mr. Phuc, true to his ever-casual self, blew it off like he never heard me. :whew:

So does it go from a slow decomposing state to a faster one next week? you tell us ;-) anyone ever tell you that you're one rude muthafuggah?