BrandyKat

I went to one concert after moving to godforsaken Texas, I was given the tickets from a newly acquired friend at a radio station, but I will never, ever go to another one. Free or otherwise. It seems Texans are the absolute rudest people on the planet, thinking only of themselves, and standing throughout the entire events. You bought SEATS you redneck morons. Put your asses in them! I bought a SEAT to see a show, not your beer and BBQ expanded butt. If I wanted to stand for three hours I'd go to the DMV.

Unles your SEAT is on the front row, and no one is allowed to stand at the stage, concert-going in Texas is a big fat waste of time and money.

How sad for you, Gary. Having to deny your own relationship to save face. Actually, I wasn't talking about you. Never heard of you; don't care who you are. It was just a comment on the fact that the only way someone that incompetent and untalented could get a job is shared DNA.

The only fool is the one who paid to put casts on a friggin rat-dog. Call me cruel, but putting an animal through the pain is far more vicious, especially when it's for an owner's benefit for having spent a ridiculous sum of the rat in the first place. Let's tell it like it is: that wretched animal is unlikely to sway anyone looking to eat a meal sans fleas, crap, and yelping.

More stolen "news." Alan can't tell the diff between a doctored photo and reality and reports everything he sees as real. Perhaps he thinks he's writing something humorous, but it's more an illustration of the folly of hiring relatives.

This friend of my boss was always talking about what he acquired from "estate sales." (He's a guy who seriously needs to come out of the closet. Dating women doesn't make you straight.) He gets all giddy--hand clapping and all--about labels and brags this and that came from this or that famous maker.

He came into the office with the world's cheesiest floor screen of fake book spines supposedly to hide your crap and make people think you're well read. Cheesy wasn't important to him (in fact, he didn't think it was), it was more important that he was pretty sure it originally came for Nieman-Marcus.

My point to make is that it doesn't matter if you call it a "garage" sale or an "estate" sale. The only difference is that a garage sale is people selling off crap they don't want. An estate sale is people with taste selling off crap they don't want.

Why not have a heroin class? A bunch of people getting together to talk rapturously about their drug of choice just sounds, oh, so fascinating. A free balloon and clean syringes will be given with the tuition of a pound of flesh.