Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It ....


It was unseasonably warm these past few days. But a cold arctic wind has been blowing in for the last 4 hours, dropping our temperature from 70 degrees Farhenheit to a lovely 32 degrees, with a 35 mile per hour wind, giving us a wind chill factor of 19 degrees.

As I came home from work and walked in the front door of my new house, I felt the wind whipping me hard, as if trying to push me over. It was bending the trees and swirling the leaves like little brown missiles. All my neighbors' garbage cans, once lining the curbs neatly in preparation for garbage day tomorrow, were laying upside down in the ditch, their contents blowing down the street and escaping off into the woods beyond.

And all around me, swirling and wafting down onto my lawn like long, rectangular snowflakes, roofing tiles are coming down with a WHOMP from the top of my 6 year old house.




Fuck.













* Reporters say the wind was recorded above 55 mph at one point. Several 18-wheeler diesel trucks have blown over onto their sides while hauling loads down the highway this evening. People have had trees come down through their roofs and join them in their living rooms and bathrooms. Thirty thousand Memphis residents are currently without power. Even so, I am pissed about the roof tiles blowing off my house. Yes I am.
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Important Government Warning!

Government Health Warning!!!




Do not swallow your bubble gum





See below:











* email from Brighton
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Blog Whore - Who Me?

I have been nominated for a couple of lovely blogger awards. So have some of my favorite bloggers. Please vote. My ego requires periodic stroking.


RFS Blog Awards Nominee
Swank Webstyle
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Suitcase Kitty


Cat stowaway makes it home again


Wed Jan 23, 10:28 AM ET




PALM BEACH GARDENS, Fla. - Some kitty math: How many lives did little tabby Gracie Mae use up when she crawled into her owner's suitcase, went through an airport X-ray machine, got loaded onto a plane, thrown onto a baggage belt and mistakenly picked up by a stranger far from home?

"She's got to be at four or five now," Seth Levy said after his 10-month-old pet was returned Sunday night by a kind stranger who went home to Fort Worth, Texas, with the wrong bag and Gracie inside to boot.

The last time Levy's wife, Kelly, saw Gracie was before she took her husband to the airport. The 24-year-old went back to her house in Palm Beach Gardens late Friday to find the bottom step, where Gracie would usually be waiting, empty.

She tore the house apart looking for the cat, who had been spayed just days before. She and her dad took out bathroom tiles and part of a cabinet to check a crawl space and papered the neighborhood with "lost cat" signs.

Then she got a phone call.

"Hi, you're not going to believe this, but I am calling from Fort Worth, Texas, and I accidentally picked up your husband's luggage. And when I opened the luggage, a cat jumped out," Kelly Levy quoted the caller saying.

Rob Carter said he made it home with the suitcase before realizing it wasn't his — and there was a big surprise inside.

"I went to unpack and saw some of the clothes and saw it wasn't my suitcase," he said. "I was going to close it, and a kitten jumped out and ran under the bed. I screamed like a little girl."

Carter said that he eventually was able to get the cat to come out from under the bed.

"In the morning, I got close enough to see its collar and the phone number on it," he said. "So I called the number and got a hold of the crying wife of the traveler."

The tabby made the 1,300-mile trip home on an $80 plane ticket. Carter said he considered keeping the cat before he knew she had a home.

"We were going to name it Suitcase," he said.
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Dear Memphis


Dear Memphis:

I just read in Maxim magazine that they think Seattle is tougher than Milkwaukee. Is coffee tougher than beer? Is drizzle tougher than merciless blizzards? Is Frasier tougher than the Fonz? Didn't think so. No amount of double-skim no-foam Frappuccino would save some granola cruncher from a 12-foot snow drifts. What do you think?
Rich Schiller

Seattle truly is tougher than Milkwaukee. You know why? Because people actually want to live in Seattle, so it's a fight just to get in there. But no one wants to live in Milkwaukee, so only the weak and pathetic end up there. Sort of like Memphis.


Dear Memphis:

I am a soldier in Iraq. My buddies and I love the hot photos of women on your blog, especially your IDH list. Two of us actually got in trouble for printing out and posting some pictures of women from your blog. You keep the morale high and make these endless days over here go by a little faster.
Spc.CaseyH

Who the fuck gets our fighting men into trouble for posting photos of hot women in order to motivate themselves during a damn war? What kind of bitch nation are we when our men are forced to fight and die for America, but prohibited to look at beautiful women? That pisses me off! You should shoot someone for that. And I can think of just the person. But you'll need to come back to America to do it. And also there's the problem of Secret Service agents you'll have to get past, but I'll bet if you ask them nicely they'll just give her up to you.


Dear Memphis:

I'm a nurse, and I'm appalled at the decline of the American male. For instance, George is a 31-year-old patient of mine. I interviewed him with his mother at his bedside. Over the past several years, I have admitted countless numbers of men in their 30s and 40s who come in with their moms. What happened to all the real men? How can a man expect to run a household or raise a child if he can't even come to the doctor's office without his mommy?
Mallie York

Hey Mallie, I don't guess you've noticed that The West has been waging a war on males for the past 40 years or more, by any chance? If not, then let me be the first to tell you. This misandric cultural massacre hasn't exactly led to a land of Real Men. Instead, it's led to a nation where 'bitch' is considered a title of, well, entitlement and pride - lots and lots of pride. And 'mommas boy' is just another name for Bill Clinton, the most popular lying, cheating, bad-boy president among women since Kennedy fucked Marilyn Monroe in the Lincoln bedroom. If you're looking for a few good men, I'm afraid you're going to have to either join the Marines or move. It's only going to keep getting worse here, as this cultral castration has snowballed into the new national religion, so the best that I can tell you is to get used to it. And maybe start a blog or something so you can make contact with men in other countries such as Australia. You might find that there are still a few nations left in this world where men aren't raised just to be castrated for internet YouTube entertainment. Alternatively, you could learn to speak Spanish and start flirting with the tanned, sweaty guys who take care of your lawn. Mexicans are known for having a rather macho culture, despite their funny little cartoon voices and polka music. Their men are actually allowed to take pride in being manly men, while their women take pride in being, brace yourself for this next part, feminine women! And all this takes place without any politicians involved at all. Not coincidentally, they have far more intact families and their men don't take their momma's along with them to the doctor to hold their hands. Practice saying this, "Estoy buscando a hombre fuerte grande para hacerme amor" and I promise you, you'll attract more than a few macho Mexican boyfriends in no time.


Dear Memphis:

A coworker of mine won't shut up about his massive penis. I don't believe it, but is it wrong if I sneak a peak at the urinal so I can shut him up next time?
Bryan Reynolds

Oh Bryan. Bryan, Bryan, Bryan. No. No no no no NO! What are you going to say? 'Hey, I was looking at your penis and it wasn't all that?' How gay! You won't shut him up. You'll just change the topic of the conversation to you being a gay pervert who looks at other guy's penises in the bathroom. What you have to do is, take your cameraphone and get a picture of it. Then post it in the breakroom along with his name. Whether he has a big penis or not, it isn't likely to be overly large while he's peeing with it. Not unless he walks around with a boner all day long and pees on the ceiling. He could have 12 inches and still look tiny while he's flaccid enough to pee, so either way you win. And also, instead of being known as the office perv, you'll be known as a gutsy guy who finally shut your coworker up about his penis. Later, you'll probably be remembered as the coworker who got killed by the guy whose penis he posted a picture of, but that's a whole different issue.


Dear Memphis:

My ex-girlfriend and I met at this great local pub that we always went to. Things didn't work out, and we broke up. So who gets control of the bar? Should I be the gentleman and let her have it?
J. Liebling

Did you read that letter up above from the nurse who complained about "the decline of the American male", by any chance? What kind of pussy are you? Are you a doormat? Did you lose the bar in the divorce? Fuck the ex-girlfriend. If you want the bar, take the bar. You know she's not sitting around agonizing over whether or not she should 'give' you the bar, you dumbass. She's sitting with her girlfriends and they're telling her the same thing I'm telling you right now - take it. If you're any kind of man at all, you'll stand your ground and take what you want. And if you do, whether they admit it or not, her girlfriends will be impressed. Some of them may even sneak over to your place behind her back for a chance to be with a 'real man'. Because in case you hadn't heard, real men are increasingly rare in this Brave New Girlie World. Be a man. Take the bar. Unless it's one of those really shitty places, like TGIFriday's or something. There's no sense fighting over a shitty bar.


Dear Memphis:

My buddy started dating my long-term girlfriend's younger sister. It was great until he started cheating on her. Now I feel really guilty for not telling my girlfriend, but I don't want to sell out my bro. What do I do?
W. Torres

Mr. Torres,
I point you as well to the letter above in which the woman opined that there are no real men in the world anymore. What do you do? You do what a real man does. You say nothing to either of the girls about it. You take your 'buddy' aside, and inform him that he is not only fucking things up with your girlfriends' sister, but also fucking you over by putting you in such a lousy spot. Then you kick his ass and tell him to quit fucking around and either break up with your girlfriend's sister, or lose the other woman. Then you both keep this shit to yourselves or you'll be hearing about it for the rest of your life, or however long it is that you stay with your girlfriend, because women never forget this shit and somehow, some way, it's going to be all your fault.





For Kylie


Dear Memphis:

My parents divorced a few years ago. My brother and I, both adults, were saddened, and were even more dismayed when we learned that our father's affair had precipitated it—he had always been a strict and moral man. The woman with whom he had the affair seemed to be a gold digger. After my parents split, our father moved across the country to make a "fresh start," and the gold digger and her young children followed. For a while, he flew in a couple of times a year to visit us. Eventually he married the gold digger. We were not invited to his wedding, and he didn't tell us about it until later. Neither my brother nor I have ever met the gold digger. This Christmas, we sent him a gift, but neither I nor my children received anything from him. He did call on New Year's Day, and we had a pleasant conversation. I feel very hurt. Clearly, my father is choosing the gold digger over us and his grandchildren. I'm contemplating writing my father a letter (probably very similar to this one) to explain how his choice hurts and disappoints me, and inviting him to come spend some time with my family. Do you think writing the letter is a bad idea? Would it be better to seethe quietly and not make a fuss? Or simply to extend an invitation to visit us? Are there other options for improving our relationship, or is it time to just let him go? —Far Away and Forgotten Daughter

Dear Far Away,
Why do you assume she's a "gold digger"? Maybe she just has great tits. Did you ever think of that? Obviously your father left your mother for a reason and really great tits are about as popular of a reason as any, especially when the wife has stopped providing any sex in the marriage. I don't know your lonely father or your frigid mother or the woman with the great tits, obviously, but I do know divorces and their drama. It sounds like Tits has done what many women do after seducing a married man with children. She has hauled him as far away from his own family as possible and made damned sure he keeps away from all of you. This is partly instinctive, especially in women with their own children, so before you go telling me that I'm bashing women, I'd like to point you to my own Father-In-Law and his big tittied, blonde-haired second wife who did this exact same alienating the children shit to My Wife and her brother and sister. I wouldn't be surprised if your present never even reached him because Tits intercepted it, as she is probably going to do with all your attempts to communicate with him. Anyway, he's going to need time to realize what he's lost. This may take two or three years. But once he removes his face from her breasts and looks around, he's going to realize his own family is gone and he's going to miss you. He'll probably call you sounding sheepish and try to regain his relationship with you. You will always be his daughter and no matter how much sex Mrs. Tits gives your father, there is a place in his heart that will always and forever belong to you.



Dear Memphis:

I've been married to a wonderful man for five years. About a month ago, I walked in on him watching a pornographic video, and I'm pretty sure he has no idea that I saw what he was doing. Our sex life is usually incredible, but ever since this incident, I've felt very down. Every time we're intimate, I wonder if he's just thinking about the women in his videos, I'm feeling less attractive, I wonder what he's doing when I'm not around, I'm suspicious when he doesn't respond to my advances, and worst, I'm feeling less attracted to him. When he asks what's wrong, I don't know what to tell him. Should I talk to him about this to try to resolve my feelings, and if so, how? Or is this something that women just have to learn to live with?
—Talk or Deal

Dear Talk,
You seem to hint that he was doing "something" with himself while watching. So I'm assuming you didn't just go sit down and watch it with him for that reason. That's fine. I wouldn't have either. Yuck, sticky seats! But as for your worries about what he's thinking, it isn't something that you should let affect you so much. What he's thinking while he's watching the videos is likely to be the same thing that women think about when they watch them, which they do, baby. He's thinking about sex! And he's apparently either taking care of himself right then and there or else he's taking care of you. As for what he's thinking while he's with you, it's the same thing he's been thinking throughout your entire marriage (Jessica Alba naked - no, I'm kidding). Nothing has changed with him. What has changed is you. If you were shocked to find him watching porn at all, the best I can tell you is to get over it. Most men and women watch porn at some point or other, and many couples watch it together before having sex. It's been proven to help couples with their sex lives. Humans watching other humans having sex are stimulated to want sex, too. It's instinctive and unavoidable. So what I'd recommend you do is, tell you that you saw him watching a porn video, leaving out the part about wanking, and tell him that you wondered if he'd mind watching some with you. Then, and this is very important, WATCH THEM with him. And focus on what YOU'RE thinking about, which should be sex. And when you notice the juices flowing, reach over and grab his manhood and YOU do some wanking. I think the two of you can take it from that point without me.



Dear Memphis:

I am African, and I've found that a lot of times when people meet me, they ask the dumbest questions. (Do you live in trees? Do you have houses? etc., etc.) Now, I understand that people in the United States know next to nothing about Africa because of what they see (or don't see) in the mainstream media. My response used to be to explain, but lately, I've been taking the sarcastic route. For example, if someone says, "You speak really good English," I say, "Thank you, and so do you," or if someone asks if we live in trees, I answer enthusiastically, "Yes, and our tree is right next to the American embassy tree." But sadly, there are cases where this has gone right over the recipient's head. What is the proper way of dealing with ignorance without having to spend time explaining yet again, or coming across as having a chip on my shoulder?
—Tired of the Dumb Questions

Dear Tired,
I have to be honest with you, and this comes from my own experiences in dealing with arrogant assholes from the Northern States when they learn that I'm from Alabama, I do exactly the same thing that you're doing. I simply remember my all-time favorite smart-ass answers and use them as often as the need arises. For example, they often ask me things such as "do you live on a farm"? I answer, "Yes, I live on a marijuana farm and I constantly encounter stoned, naked, horny college girls trespassing on my property." They ask, "do you have indoor plumbing" and I answer, "no, the plumbling runs under the foundation of the house. Only the fixtures are indoors." They ask, "did you ever have sex with your cousin" and I answer, "no, I was too busy having sex with your sister." These types of answers are truly the only appropriate way to deal with morons. It has been this way since the beginning of time. Even in the Bible, in the book of Proverbs, there are verses advising the Jews on how to deal with idiots just like the ones you've described. One of the verses actually encourages the use of smart-ass answers to these people. So there you have it. God says give'em hell. And enjoy it.



Dear Memphis:

I met a great guy at a board-game party, and we really hit it off. There was a lot of one-on-one interaction, joking, and flirtation between the two of us. When he knew the answers, he'd whisper them to me, when I knew, I'd whisper them to him, our knees and arms were touching most of the night, and he even grasped my hand at one point. My two girlfriends even noticed, and after we'd left, they said that the flirtation was completely mutual. The guy came with us to the door when we left, and asked if I had any plans for the rest of the weekend. I said I didn't. I was sure he was going to ask for my number or suggest plans for later, but he didn't (granted, the window of time was not enormous as I headed out the door), and I'm really disappointed. I'm 26, so I've had my share of dating experiences, and I've concluded I generally like for the guy to take the initiative in the beginning. Is this misguided? I just think I've gotten better results when the guy takes the lead (or at least thinks he does!). Is there any way to still salvage this initial spark?
—Wishing for a "Closer"

Dear Wishing,
In a room filled with people, and especially with your friends standing right there, he probably didn't quite have the nerve to ask you out. Girls have a habit of traveling in packs, which makes it really hard for guys to get close to them and ask them out. Anyway, what's done is done. At this point, what matters is that you two clicked and you want more. He didn't ask at the door, so now you need to start tracking him down. Whether you get his number and call him, get his email and send him a message, or get his address and show up naked at his front door, it doesn't matter, just so long as you do something. You may prefer that the guy take the intiative, but in this case it didn't quite happen. Since you're still thinking about him, it looks like you need to provide him another opportunity to make that move. So hunt him down and jump him. If he doesn't make his move at that point, considering the heat that passed between you, then he's either gay or married.


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Reow


4:00 a.m. "reow"


4:01 a.m. "Reow"


4:02 a.m. "REOW!"


4:03 a.m. Scratch scratch scratch ....... "Reow?"


"Oh for cryin' out loud, what the fuck is so important at 4 a.m.?"


Shuffle shuffle shuffle. Squeeeeeeek.


"What?!"


"Reow!" Cat runs to the back door, sits down and stares hard at it.


"What? You want to go outside? It's 4 a.m.! Are you crazy? You and your horrible Siamese meow, you do realize we live out in the boondocks now, right?"


"Reow", still staring hard at the back door.


"You've got on your camo outfit and your rifle is all loaded up and you're all set to go hunting, aren't you? You're thinking about all those tasty, 12 point mice out there? Well, I feel I should tell you, out here in the boondocks, those mice aren't the only tasty food running around. There are some animals, some BIG animals, out there who think YOU are the tasty food. They run right through our backyard at night. Are you sure you want to deal with that? It's freezing cold out, too."


Cat continues hard stare at door, willing it to open.


"OK, have it your way," I finally say, as I open the door. A black furry flash streaks out into the cold, dark night, instantly absorbed by the darkness.


7:00 a.m. I'm downstairs in the kitchen eating breakfast. Upstairs I can hear the distinctive sounds of galloping horses running from one end of the house to the other and then back again. Crash! Bang! Boom!


"Mmm, Stinky's awake," I mumble to myself.


A rumbling like an avalanche tells me that Stinky has just run down the stairs and is now behind the door.


"Mew? .......... Mew?"


I slowly cross the living room and open the door to the upstairs. Stinky falls under the door out onto the floor, does a somersault, and begins flipping around like a fish out of water.


"That's the weirdest entrance you have EVER made," I say to him. Then I notice that he has a stuffed mouse in his mouth and he's mauling it with enthusiasm. Suddenly he leaps up and runs out of the room. I return to my breakfast.


Zoooooooom! A ball of fuzz flies by. I hear claws skidding across the wooden floor and then a WUMP as he collides with the wall. More claws on wood as he flails his furry little paws trying to break into a run, slipping on the wood like a cartoon character before finally getting traction and sailing across the house. WUMP! Another wall.


"Hey, why don't you go outside? Stinky? You wanna go outside?" I look at the back door. There sits my furry black midnight visitor. "Aaaaah, you wanna come INSIDE? Idiot."


I get up and open the back door. The black furry creature saunters inside and goes straight to the food dish.


"Oh ho! So there weren't as many mice as you'd hoped, eh? You hunting Cat Chow now? Dumbass, waking me up at 4 a.m. Hey, Stinky! Outside!"


A gray and white fuzzball skids past my feet and tumbles out onto the back porch, instantly covered from head to toe in sticks and leaves and crap that has blown up onto the porch. I close the door and go back to eating. Just as I sit down, the black one reappears at the door.


"What?! You want to go back out again? Now? You'll have to wait. I'm eating."


Ten minutes later I'm ready to go. The furry black Princess is in her bed.


"Hey, you ready to go out?"


She looks at me blankly.


"Outside? You want to go outside?"


Blank stare.


"Fine. Stay inside. Eat, sleep, and poop in the litter box that you hate now because Stinky makes it smell so horrible. I have to go."


This is the life of a cat owner. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Be warned. Cat infestation could happen to you.
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iBoob





* courtesy of TiggerLane
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MiLK Day

I remember the first time I flipped my new calendar over and saw "MLK" Day listed there as one of the holidays. I glanced at it for a moment and thought to myself, "Milk Day? We have a holiday for celebrating milk? Is that like Boxing Day in Canada? What the fuck?"

I took my calendar to a coworker and showed it to them. Apparently Monday morning mental haze is contagious. I remember my coworker looking at it as bewildered as I was and saying, "I don't know what that is. I've never heard of Milk Day."

You'd think, what with every fucking street in every major city named "Rev Martin Luther King Jr Parkway" and "Rev Martin Luther King Jr Avenue" and "Rev Martin Luther King Jr Drive" and on and on and on, that we would have known instantly what that was.

And, of course, living in Memphis, the city where Mr. King was shot and killed, you might expect this event to stand out in our minds, much like the birthday of Elvis, which I had no idea had just passed until someone on MySpace wished me a happy birthday 2 weeks ago.

It's a long story. Don't ask.

Also, having grown up hearing Bono and U2 singing an entire song praising Martin Luther King, and mistakenly thinking he was singing about Jesus Christ, you might expect that I'd see "MLK" on a calendar and instantly know, "this is for that guy that Bono sings about."

But no, I had no clue.

I also had no clue what the date itself represented. At first I thought it was a holiday celebrating Martin Luther King's death. After all, we celebrate the death of Christ, but then that had a special significance, as his death and resurrection were an essential part of a new covenant with God himself. Whereas, the death of Martin Luther King was simply the end of a garbage strike and the beginning of the rise of Jesse Jackson. Not quite the same.

I was wrong, though, both about Milk Day and the holiday representing the death of Martin Luther King. I think my confusion might be understood if you realize that Martin Luther King was actually born on January 15th and not the day MLK is celebrated, so it made no sense, as is typical of most government actions.

I remember one particular MLK holiday, while I was working for The Big Alabama Bank and thus had the day off, I wandered over to the house of "Yo G" to talk to his father, "Big G". OK, so no one ever actually called him "Big G". But for the sake of consistency, and because I can't remember what I usually call him here on my blog, I'm calling him that from here on. Anyway, I went over to see Big G because he had my tie rod separator and I wanted to know if he was done using it. I found him sitting in the back of his garage with a friend of his, listening to the radio and drinking beer. He and his friend were a little drunk while the radio DJ was going on and on about Marthin Luther King Jr.

Big G is 60-something years old. He has lived in Redneckville, just outside of Memphis, his entire life. He lived here when Martin Luther King was marching around protesting. He lived here when Martin Luther King was shot here. He was even in Memphis on that day. He told me so.

I had almost expected him to tell me, as he was drunk enough to have the "Popeye" drunken wink thing going on, that he knew who actually shot him. Or that he himself had shot him. People often lie when they're drunk, in addition to telling things that they should not tell, and it can be hard to tell the lies from the embarrassing truths when you don't know the person well.

Anyway, he said "I remember when King was shot. You remember that?" And he turned to his friend, who nodded.

"Yeah, I remember. It was nothing like they make it out to be now," his friend responded.

"Yeah, it wasn't glorious or anything." Big G said. "He was here for a garbage strike."

"BWA HA HA", they both laughed together.

"A fucking GARBAGE STRIKE!" Big G went on. "And some idiot shot him. I guess it was that Ray guy. I don't know. But it was no Kennedy assassination. There was nothing glamorous or glorious about it. It was just a fucking garbage strike. And at the time, the FBI had been investigating him, because he had ties to communist terrorists in this country and was getting money from them. But of course, no one talks about that anymore. It's not politically correct."

He laughed some more while his friend swallowed another beer.

"They had pictures of him with some of his girlfriends, too," he went on. "He was a reverend, and he was sleeping around on his wife with lots and lots of women. When white preachers do that, it's a scandal. When black preachers do it, we have a fuckin' holiday to celebrate them."

"And when Bill Clinton does it," his friend chimed in "we call him our First Black President."

"BWA HA HA HAAAAAAA! That's TRUE!" Big G snorted. "Black people call him the first black president because he got caught fucking around on his wife! And they're PROUD of that!"

After awhile more of this, they began to wander off onto different topics as the DJ on the radio stopped talking about Martin Luther King and started playing music. I took my tie rod separator and went home.

I don't know how you would have reacted to what Big G and his friend had said. I do know how the Priestesses of Political Correctness would have ordered me to react. The fact is, I had no reaction at all. I honestly didn't care. These were two drunk white males whose only political influence or voice comes from the fact that they are members of a labor union and the AARP, neither of which represents their views, fights for their civil rights, or ever asks them what they think or want. Instead, both organizations just take their money and ignore them. This is the same thing that both major political parties do to me, and I don't even have to pay dues to them. I get screwed like that for free.

I suppose I am expected to have some deep philosophical thoughts about this day. After all, I'm blogging about it. The fact is, I don't. I have been trying to post something worthwhile on my blog for over a week now, with little success. Just this past weekend, I posted 4 or 5 different things, only to take them all down again almost immediately.

All I know about Martin Luther King Jr is what the PC Police taught us in school, and that isn't worth very much. And I guess I know what people who are old enough to have actually seen what was going on have to say about it. But even though most of these people are more than a little politically incorrect, their insights often aren't overly helpful either. I mean, they have a very different perspective, and that is of some value, I'll grant that much. But many of them apparently hated the man and as a result their views aren't very objective, no more so than the views of the PC Police who preach a myth of gods and goddesses whose motivations were only pure and noble and who never sinned.

History is hard enough to learn from when the truth is buried beneath foggy memories. But it's even harder when it's obscured behind hate and a political agenda that requires lying and manipulating the facts to hide the truth. I suspect that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. I suspect that the truth is, as is often the case with any political movement that has any success, Martin Luther King was a flawed man who saw an opportunity to do something which he believed needed to be done. Obviously a number of wealthy and influential people, whatever their reasons, decided to support him in his efforts, thus making it possible for him to carry on for many years in his endeavor. Whether right or wrong, he succeeded.

It also appears that just before he was shot some of the uglier details of his personal life, much like Bill Clinton's, were about to become public. Had this occurred, he may have been disgraced. He may have fallen from favor. His movement may have faded. Or it may have gone on without him. Or he may have simply stood defiant and said "my personal life is none of your business," again like Bill Clinton, and gone on virtually unaffected. No one knows. It doesn't matter though. Because he was shot and killed and as a result he is viewed as a martyr. His views and his goals were undeniably given a boost by his death and the resulting outrage. And his birthday is now celebrated by order of President Ronald Reagan, as an official holiday.

And still, every year when I flip my calendar over to January and see "MLK holiday" I think briefly to myself, "milk day?"


Got MLK?
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Memphis Steve's Puzzle - Can You Solve It?

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How I Fixed My Computer

After going through a virus attack,

losing a hard drive,

fighting off hackers,

upgrading all my software,

installing fire-walls,

being threatened with being cut-off by my email provider,

and a host of other problems...


I have fixed my computer.


Now it works just the way I want it to


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Harassing Callers


I'm getting harassing calls on my cell phone at work. So in the true spirit of blog-brotherhood, I'm inviting all of you to call these fuckers as many times as you feel the urge to. It's all some telemarketing sweatshop and they just keep hanging up on me.

Here are the numbers they've called me from so far:



1-866-724-5082
1-866-300-1467


I've Googled them and found a long list of people complaining that they are receiving the same harassing calls, usually with no one on the other end, but occasionally with some Bangalore Indian trying to sell them something.

Give them a call. Tell them your name is Shakira from India and you'd like to give them a blowjob if they'll just mail you a check first. Say whatever you like. Just ring their phones and let them know how it feels. It's fun for the whole family!
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0 to 200 in 6 Seconds


Ed was in trouble. He forgot his wedding anniversary. His wife was really mad.

She told him "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in 6 seconds, AND IT BETTER BE THERE."

The next morning, Ed got up early and left for work.

When his wife woke up, she looked out the window, and sure enough, there was a medium-sized gift-wrapped box in the middle of the driveway.

Confused, the wife put on her robe, ran out to the driveway, and brought the box back into the house.

She opened it and found a brand-new bathroom scale.

Matthew Winkler murdered
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Just Random Stuff

Saadia's blonde t-shirt

Bottle Blonde recently asked Steph of Much Ado About Sumthin' how she does it, how does she blog for so long and so well without burning out. Shortly after, she posted that she was taking a break from blogging, either permanently or perhaps she'll be back, but she hasn't decided. I know how hard it can be sometimes, but even so, it makes me sad.

Even worse, Steph has said she is quitting after 500 posts and nothing is going to change that. She's almost there, so if you haven't been reading Much Ado About Sumthin', then you are really missing out and you are about to miss out for good. When she goes I will cry.


Here in the U.S., the presidential race is in full swing. On the Left, all the feminazis are falling over themselves talking about how Hillary "teared up" when asked a totally unemotional question which had absolutely nothing to do with the answer she gave, "it's hard. I cry not for me, but for the country." Yeah, I cry for the country, too, because all of our choices are so lousy. The future looks mighty dark at this point. Even if Hillary were to lose, which isn't likely considering the money and unscrupulous political machinery behind her, the other choices aren't exactly a God-send.


Hillary lost the Democratic primary in Iowa recently. Those in The Press who dislike her (Obama supporters) immediately predicted that she was doomed. All the polls showed her destined to lose in New Hampshire, the next primary, and if she did then it would be almost certain death for her dream of castrating America in 2008. But a funny thing happened, citizens of New Hampshire reported seeing an endless stream of cars pouring in from Misandrychusetts, the most feminist, misandric, and shamelessly sexist state in the entire United States of America. No one living in Misandrychusetts is legally eligible to vote in the New Hampshire primary, mind you, but as I said months ago, the feminist political machine has long been prepared to violate every law in order to get their way. They do it all the time because no one ever holds them accountable. The law simply isn't applied to feminists. So the flood of illegal voters swung the primary to Hillary. No one in the news has said a word about the illegal invasion. Instead, Hillary's supporters in the Press (the Wall Street Journal) are declaring that America has spoken and demanded Hillary Clinton over Obama. There is a reason the citizens of New Hampshire HATE the citizens of Massachusetts and vice versa, and this criminal tidal wave, forevermore to be known as Hurricane Hillary, is just one example of WHY.

The Cowboys played the New York Giants in the first round of the playoffs last Sunday. I am a Cowboys fan, so I was interested in this game above all others. I was impressed with their game plan for the first half. It was amazing. They beat on the Giants' defense with run after run for 10 long minutes, ending in a touchdown. And then their defense, apparently covering the New York receivers via email, stood waaaaay back and let Eli Manning fly down the field with pass after pass and score a tying touchdown in under 60 seconds. I couldn't believe the lousy coverage and total lack of tackling. But it only got worse in the second half. New York's defense, now tired, was ripe for a passing attack, something Dallas has the capacity to do well. But Tony Romo, the golden boy of Dallas, mysteriously went apeshit and insisted on throwing hail Mary bombs to the endzone, all of which were way off target, instead of throwing completions to his talented tight ends and simply getting the needed first downs to drive down the field and win the game with a single touchdown. When he got pressured, rather than throwing the ball out of bounds, he'd eat it for a huge loss. Troy Aikman, former Cowboys star quarterback was announcing the game and commented that Tony wasn't exactly making good decisions. That was putting it mildly.


The stock market is having hot flashes. Clearly it is experiencing menopause. Everyone is insane. It leaps up, then free-falls down. All the traders are clearly smoking crack. They need hormones and they need them NOW.

Yahoo's exercise of the week is called the "exercise ball crunch". I don't have the slightest interest in doing anything called a "ball crunch". Get the the hell away from me!

A new 'study' blames Christoper Columbus for bringing syphilis to Europe, killing thousands and destroying the lives of countless more. This would seem to indicate that the American Indians were as responsible for spreading plague and death to Europeans as the Europeans were for doing the same to the Indians. It's politically incorrect to say this, though, and so it's likely this study will fade into oblivion. The only reason it has received any press at all is because a woman did it. Also politically incorrect to say is that Columbus and his men managed to have sex with an awful lot of American Indian women, which would seem to indicate a lot of sleeping around amongst those "noble savages". I guess Pokehontus was well-named, eh? Hey, I can say this. I'm Cherokee and Choctaw. Shut it, white man!

I went to the gym right after posting this. While getting dressed for my workout I had the pleasure(?) of seeing my naked profile in the giant mirror. I think I need a stronger term than simply "looks like ass".

I removed my posts about my Family Christmases. If you read my blog regularly then you've already read them. If you don't then you don't even know you missed them. I don't mind sharing some of the drama that is home with my blog friends. But I don't want it out there for just anyone to find at any time. I posted it. You read it. It's done. And now it's gone. Now back to the usual fart jokes!

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Waving at girls costs Australian man his arm

CANBERRA (Reuters) - An Australian man who waved out of a car window at two young women was expected to lose his arm Monday after it was almost severed by another passing vehicle.

The 20-year-old was a passenger in a pick-up truck at Bunbury, in Western Australia state, when he waved at two women in a car wash.

But as he put his arm out the driver made a right hand turn and the man's limb was struck and almost torn off by an oncoming four-wheel-drive.

"His left arm was partially severed and doctors believe the limb may need to be amputated," police said.
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Survey stolen from Saadia

shut the fuck up

1. Have you ever kissed someone 16 or older?
Yes, because kissing someone under 16 like that might get me arrested.

2. Have you ever kissed someone whose name starts with an A?
Yes, A hot chick I met at a bar who was drunk. A hot chick I met at a club who was dancing naked on the table. A hot chick passed out at a frat party when I was a pledge. A drunk, naked hot chick at a frat party who turned out to be my frat brother's little sister who was still in high school. See how that works? I should'a been A fuckin' lawyer.

3. Where is your cellular?
I left it in the backseat of the police car by accident.

4. What are you doing tomorrow?
Going to work and fade into the background while working my ass off, same as every damned day.

5. Why do these surveys always have at least one number missing?
Because most of the people doing this shit are 15 years old and high on Mom's cough syrup.

6. Ever eaten soap?
No, her name was Linda. And she only tasted like soap. Something was dead wrong with that girl.

7. Last person to tell you "I love you"?
Hermoine Granger, but she was just saying that to get into my pants.

8. Like anyone?
Yeah, I like a lot of people. You can't hate everyone.

9. What song are you listening to right now?
The song coming out of my butt. It sounds like Bbbbbbbbaaaaaaaach!

10. Is there a place you would like to visit?
Yes, Jessica Biel's Brazilian garden.

11. Have you ever fallen into a mud puddle?
No, but I have slipped and busted ass on concrete in the rain in front of half the people I knew at the time. They all seemed to enjoy it. I guess I should do that more often?

12. Do you like winter?
I don't even know her. Is she hot?

13. Does your screen name have numbers in it?
No, I'm not a big numbers kinda Memphis Steve.

14. Are you in a band?
A band of thieves.

15. Do you like parties?
As long as there's plenty of alcohol and naked women on the tables like at Michael Polites' 10th birthday party back when we were kids. Man, his mom really knew how to get down! She was hot.

16. What are you scared of?
Wind-up mice and robots with girls' names

17. How long have you had your blog for?
Since I was just a little Dutch girl.

18. If you could have sex with a celebrity, who would it be?
AJ Cook from "Criminal Minds". I want to make her crawl on all fours and bark like a dog while I ride her from behind.

19. If you could own a monkey, would you?
Sure, I'll take Mike Nesmith. He made more money than the other Monkees. Maybe he'll give me some and I can buy a new Mustang Cobra.

20. Do you own anything from American Eagle?
I believe I do. Yes indeed. Don't ask what it is, though. It was the reason I lost my cellphone in the back of the police car, but since they never found it I got off free and clear.

21. Do you listen to rap?
Only the rap of the faucet dripping in the sink while I'm trying to sleep in my cell.

22. Do you listen to country?
Sometimes, when the rock stations won't shut up and play some music.

23. Favorite Disney movie?
Disney is a bunch of misandric pedophiles who should all be shot. It makes about as much sense to trust your kids with Michael Jackson as with Disney.

24. Is your room clean?
Oh hell no. There are boxes of shit everywhere. I'm supposed to be unpacking right now, but of course I'm doing this instead.

25. Do you have any best friends?
I used to, but then I moved to Memphis.

26. Do you have any siblings?
Many, many siblings. Dad used to ride a Harley, so apparently I have siblings all across the country.

27. Do you get along with them?
I don't get anything with them. I'm in Memphis. They are not.

28. Do you regret anything?
Everything. I need a do-over. Unfortunately God doesn't give those.

29. What are you excited about?
Jessica Biel is coming to Memphis to make a movie and get naked.

30. Are you an artist?
I used to be. Now I just blog all over the internet for no particular reason.

31. Do you have an addiction?
Yes, Peanut M&Ms. I nearly got busted making a buy in the ghetto the other night.

32. Favorite swear word?
Bajingo

33. What did you do today?
Went to work. Gonna go to the gym at lunch if I don't wimp out. Then back to work. Then home. My life is one big adventure.

34. Are you enjoying life?
Not currently. I think mostly life is enjoying me.

35. How many pillows do you sleep with?
Not counting my pillowy figure, 1

36. Do you have sex dreams about celebrities?
No, they have sex dreams about me. Avril Lavigne emails me all the time to tell me about her latest wet dream involving me. She's freaky.

37. Do you like hugs or kisses?
It depends on who is doing it and how. There's nothing like a good boob-hug, but a kiss from the right mouth is good, too. Shannon Elizabeth would be the ultimate combination of both.

38. Is the glass half empty or half full?
It's half filled with air. And so is the other half.

39. Do you hate anybody?
Yes, and they deserve it, too.

40. Are you happy right now?
No, I'm Memphis.

41. Plans for Saturday?
That was two days ago.

42. What's on your mind right now?
Was Tony Romo drunk or just spazzing last night? How could anyone blow a game plan that was working as well as that? My God, what was he smoking? Just get the fucking first down instead of throwing wounded ducks to the end zone every play.

43. How big is too big?
Pamela Anderson is too big. Queen Latifah's ego is too big. Jessica Biel is about right.

44. Been embarrassed in public?
My entire life is one giant public embarrassment.

45. Miss someone?
Yes, but if I practice my aim I might not miss next time.

46. Have you been in trouble with the cops?
I will be after I break into their car to steal my cell phone back.

47. Where were you born?
In my momma's bajingo.

49. Are you confused about anything right now?
Yes, the Chaos Theory is throwing me for a loop.

50. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?
Yes, I cried tears of blood. Fat lot of good it did. She left me anyway.

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8 Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me



Here are the rules--1) Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves. 2) People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules. 3) At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. 4) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog. And then run like hell, 'cause they might be pissed.


My friend, TheHipster, tagged me. I've done this one a few times, so there isn't much left that people reading this blog don't already know about me. Let's see what I can come up with.

1. I have a kitten that I brought home with me from my sister's house. He's about 9 months old. He had diarrhea when we got him and smelled. He has a special taste for sponges and he steals them everywhere he finds them. My Wife pushed me to name him before I felt I knew him well enough to give him a decent name, so I named him SpongeBob StinkyPants. When we took him to get 'fixed' at the vet, they asked us what his name was so they could put it in his file. After we told them, they laughed all the way back to the room. And when it was time to pick him up and take him home and they asked what cat it was we were there for, they laughed again the entire time we were leaving with him. Poor cat got laughed at and lost his balls on the same day.

2. I've been reading all the Harry Potter books, or trying to. I stay up after My Wife has gone to sleep to read them. But I end up responding to comments on The Blog or replying to emails until I'm too tired to read and then I have to go to bed. So I'm not getting through them as fast as I'd like. Does Harry ever 'do' Hermoine or what?

3. It's midnight right now, I'm still up, and I'm not even watching any porn. In fact, I haven't seen any porn in a very long time. God, what is the matter with me?

4. I have a new truck and it is a blast. A hot 23-year-old girl hit me up for a chance to drive it. I'll probably let her because I'm nice like that. No one ever hit me up for a chance to drive my old mini-truck. Damn!

5. I have an XBox360 that I have played maybe 9 or 10 times total. I got over a year ago. Right now it's in a box next to my computer. I haven't even unpacked it since the move and I hadn't thought about it until just now.

6. I have 5 cars. The neighbors here refer to me as "the guy who likes to work on cars." I guess I should be happy with that. It's better than "asshole who cusses at his cars while working on them" or "guy with the shitty lawnmower" or "guy who our dog chases while he's jogging." That last one is the most accurate of all and if a certain somebody doesn't fix their damn fence I'm going to be "guy who shot that guy's vicious dog."

7. My penis is super large. I've actually had complaints. OK, I just made that shit up. Everything about me is pretty average so it's likely that that is, too. I've never bothered to measure and I'm not going to now just for this. Not that it matters. Being married is like being a eunuch. All the hot girls are much nicer to me now because they figure my genitals are locked up somewhere and I can't get to them.

8. My bathroom window is huge and situated right over the tub. It's got this icy-looking film on it to obscure things so people outside can't really see us inside, as we are all naked and shit. But it doesn't really obscure it all that well and I have a feeling the entire neighborhood is seeing my junk every time I get out of the shower. I'm not thrilled about that, but My Wife doesn't want to let me put anything up. Does anyone else think this is backwards? Shouldn't she be the one wanting to put something up?


Now I have to tag eight others, so I apologize in advance even though I know none of you fuckers are going to do it. I tag:

Jessica in Florida,
EmmaK,
Kitty,
Leesa,
Dixie,
Prunella,
Bottle Blonde,
One Hung Man

Don't hate me now. I was forced to tag ya'll. Don't hate!

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Cannibal Restaurant

A cannibal was walking through the jungle and came upon a restaurant operated by a fellow cannibal. Feeling somewhat hungry, he sat down and looked over the menu...

+ Tourist: $5
+ Broiled Missionary: $10.00
+ Fried Explorer: $15.00
+ Baked Democrat or Grilled Republican: $100.00

The cannibal called the cook over and asked,

'Why such a price difference for the politicians?'

The cook replied, "Have you ever tried to clean one?

They're so full of shit, it takes all morning."




* Emailed to me by Stacy the Peanut Queen
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Karma


Karma - it's a bitch
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The Perfect Couple

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My Wish for You in 2008


May the IRS lose your data, forgetting you even exist.

May the Department of Homeland Security give you back all of the civil rights you lost to the terrorists.

May Jessica Biel break into your house and molest you in your bed.

May all your clothes be made in America, with high quality and no funky smell straight off the rack.

May your underwear never again ride up your ass.

May you never again have to stand in a mile long line for the cashier because the store is too cheap to hire enough employees.

May love grab your ass and may happiness cop a feel.

May you win the lottery on the same day that Ed McMahon shows up at your door to tell you that you've won the Publisher's Clearinghouse grand prize.

May your sheets smell of sex and may success ravage your bank account.

May your tears be that of orgasmic release.

May your farts smell like flowers.

May the problems you had disappear in downtown Memphis in a bad neighborhood, never to be seen again.

And may your favorite team win the championship!
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2007 Poll Results

2007 is over and we have the final tallies for the many useless polls I've conducted. And the winner is ...

I think this blog needs more

blog needs more poll


Winner: photos of hot naked women in general - 9 votes

Melissa Harrington

Yay! I like this result, because I totally agree. You can never have too many hot, naked women in a blog. The more, the merrier and that's for sure. I've even thought about hiring local models to pose for these hot naked photos so I could take them myself and make sure they apply to the blog post I'm using them for. And also just as an excuse to see hot naked women and take their picture.


2nd place: photos of hot naked large breasted brunettes - 6 votes

Angelina Jolie

Right here I know who has been voting in my poll. He's in my blogroll, works for the feds, and he LOVES hot brunettes. He rarely comments, but this poll result tells me he's been here.


3rd place: photos of hot half-naked women who won't trip my employer's porn blocking software - 5 votes

naked girl side

For this I have two words - Victoria's Secret


No votes

Shannon Elizabeth

Stories about Memphis Steve's family, angry rants, political commentary, stories about idiots in traffic - and yet there will be lots and lots more of this because, let's face it, other than photos of naked women, what else am I going to say? I was relieved that no one requested photos of naked men, though. It would have sucked if there had been an overwhelming demand for that.



I think the biggest Skank Ho of 2007 will be

Biggest Skank Ho of 2007


britney spears sans panties
Winner: Britney Spears, sans panties - 65 votes

It was a tough race, but Britney managed to pull it off, what with her little sister jumping in to offer support at the last minute with that whole 16-year-old pregnancy thing. That's true family loyalty, right there. Britney shaving her head during the middle of the year gave her a lead that none of her competition could overtake. And then losing custody of her children and celebrating by getting drunk was a masterful stroke of genius. It's been a truly amazing year for Britney. She wanted this title badly and she gave it her all. She earned this title.


2nd place: Rosie O'Donnell, fatius obnoxious bitchius - 57 votes

I truly did not see this coming. Rosie is a crazy whackjob of a shithead, there's no getting around it, but to nearly win the Skank Ho competition is quite an amazing feat for a bulldyke lesbian who looks more like Lou Costello than any hooker I ever went with. I don't even know who her girlfriends are, so clearly I am out of touch because every lesbian in the entertainment industry is all over the news every day of the week. I guess I should've thrown in Queen Latifah for this poll. Everyone knows the only reason she ever gets hired at all is because she's a fat, no-talent, black, lesbian. Hell, Queen Latifah might've won if I hadn't overlooked her. I just wasn't expecting this.

paris hilton sans panties
3rd place: Paris Hilton, defending Skank Ho queen of 2006 - 53 votes

Holy cow, only third?! For The Paris? No way! I honestly thought Paris would take the title for a second straight year. I guess with all the Lyndsay Lohan and Britney Spears madness, the news of Paris' mighty exploits was diluted somewhat. And then there were Rosie's meltdowns. Still, this is a shock to me. I predict a comeback, though, barring any new and unforeseen entrants from the mighty gay pedophiles and their ho machine at Walt Disney Corporation. Paris may be down, but she's not out.

lyndsay lohan sans panties
4th place: Lyndsay Lohan, rehab diva - 23 votes

I'm shocked to see Lyndsay bumped down to fourth. I guess all that time in rehab took her out of action and out of the spotlight just a bit too much. It just goes to show you, rehab doesn't pay when you're a star. Get drunk and get out there smashing cars and bars so you can get in the news being arrested with no panties on, girlfriend! That's how stars are made.


My personal impression of Mr. Memphis is that he's

Memphis Steve is


Winner: humorous guy who needs psychological help - 51 votes

Yep, true dat. They say all the greatest comedians come from totally screwed up backgrounds. So I must be destined for greatness because Lord knows I come from hell.

2nd place: Who? - 30 votes

I have to ask, what the fuck are you doing here, voting in my poll, if you don't even know who I am or where you are?

3rd place: A macho, macho man - 24 votes

Yes, thank you, everyone who voted for this one. I am the epitomy of manliness, a tower of power, a mountain of muscle, a potential member of the Village People. Or at least, I like to think so. Apparently some of you do, too, and I'm grateful for you.

4th place: A whiney bitch - 23 votes

Apparently I am a macho, macho, whiney bitch because these two were neck and neck all year long. I guess that's like a green beret who complains a lot. Or maybe a typical New Yorker.

5th place: A douchebag - 18 votes

I had to include douchebag. I couldn't help it. Tucker Max is a famous self-proclaimed douchebag and all the women love him. I don't necessarily aspire to be just like Tucker, but I wouldn't mind having all his women. Too bad douchebag didn't place higher, but still, it's good to know that it's in the running.


Well, that's it for my polls. I'll have to create all new ones for this year. I think there'll have to be another race for Biggest Skank Ho of 2008, but other than that I'm not sure what I'll ask. Suggestions will be welcomed.
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Happy New Year!


Let's Celebrate!
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