Friday, April 16, 2010

I've drawn two dots on my penis so that it's constantly making the following emote :| except for it makes it on its side like in real life

I always preferred Pinkie Tuscadero to her sister, Leather Tuscadero.

Leather Tuscadero gave me the fright.

I think it was the leather jacket or the Joan Jett hair or the manish face and I can't really tell you for sure what it was but it was something about her that gave me the fright.

I'm not really sure what Fonzie saw in her to be honest.

What a disappointment, Henry Winkler.  He goes from the awesome Fonzie to sad Henry Winkler.  Smelling socks and working in a morgue, pushing away a sack full of prostitutes and whining all the while.

It's like he got a transfusion of Gabe Kaplan's blood some time in the 70s.

What a shame, poor Henry Winkler.

Pinkie Tuscadero wore pink things and chewed gum which is a fine enough exercise.  She wore a pink bow in her hair, which was nice.  If you can say wearing any bow ever in your hair is nice, that is.

It is not nice.

Leather Tuscadero is the kind that doesn't hold you at arm's length but she invites you to her apartment to look at her art and you've had enough to drink so you go and when you get there and it's late and your friends have all seen you out the door with Leather Tuscadero, you find that you don't know what to do with a woman who doesn't arm's length you.

So you sit and you look at the art and you say stupid, awkward things and you pet her cat and then you pass out drunk on her bed just to wake up in the morning feeling stupid and foolish and then the long walk home.

In that respect, Leather Tuscadero is like most of the women I've ever known.

Including the arm's lengthers.