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Friday, May 11, 2007

Thirty-Nine Year Old, Six Foot Eight Inch Tall Professional Weightlifters Are (Apparently) Going To Their Prom ...

... so last saturday my wife and I celebrated our two year wedding anniversary by having a beer, driving to a nice italian resturaunt, having a drink in the parking lot, eating an amazingly huge dinner, having a drink, driving to Applebee's, having two huge drinks, watching Spider-Man 3, and then driving home and violently fucking until we both passed out on top of each other.


Yeah. My wife and I are fucking awesome.


Here is a pictures of my wife in the parking lot of the resturaunt ...




And this is a picture of the first of three tables that filled up with prom people once we finished eating ...




We mocked their prom dinners by loudly toasting "Here's to being of legal drinking age" with our beers.


And here are two slightly unsuccessful attempts to take a picture of the "prom date" who I swear couldn't have been younger than thirty-nine years old ...






That punk kid looks older than me. That is so fucking depressing. The older I get, the younger I look in comparison to high school kids. That is so fucking sad, not to mention it defies the laws of physics. How is it possible that I can be thirty years old and yet this neckless douchebag in a rented cumberbund looks like Ric Flair's drinking buddy? I would get carded before this ass turd would and he doesn't even have hair on his chest. Me? I have TEN strands on MY chest, so take THAT, you ass turd.


Before we left (and by left I mean "Buca Di Beppo pushed us out in order to seat more thirty-nine year old prom dates") Natasha made a paper airplane using her menu.


What a perfect chance to take one last picture of the ass turd ...




Ass turd.

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