download Ode To Haley Xmas 2016.mp4 from Freespace File Hosting
When I'm not doing anything, or perhaps bored to death, I'll check out FuBar. We're all just havin' a little fun to pass the time away. To say it is a nest filled with beautiful women is an understatement.
But I must give you fair warning.... if I visit your page and I see that you've decided to place a barrier on "polishing" your blings (Permission to polish denied by member settings) because of your self-centered, ego-driven, high-holiness, social displacement and moronic idea that only the "select few" may perform such an act, is repulsive and a complete turn-off. In other words.... you're NOT that important. This is a website made up of 0's and 1's. Your webpage isn't the Vatican whereby those with "special permission" may see the Pope. Do NOT expect a "LIKE" nor a glimpse of your photos from moi. And if you need to feel important... then get yourself a dog and cherish the licks you'll receive. Then... and only then... will you feel like a God.

I am a man of my word. Single and looking. And haven't found her yet. Thought I did at one time. Pretty much realized that most women are as much bull shitters, as are most men. So, in case you're wonderin', here goes...

Attended prep school, some college and work in the cable industry. I'm funny most of the time, and believe in true love. My weakness is being faithful. I'm a one-woman man and can't help it. It's my Achilles heel. Been hurt like most of you. Taken for granted. Lied to and cheated. I guess it goes with the turf. But not in my world.

I love music... as long as I can make out the words and the song has a meaning, a message. If it has a distinctive rhythm and makes me wanna move my feet... then I'm possessed.
I love to watch movies (mysteries, sci-fi, action), crazy over flea markets, Yankees and Jets fan, into carpentry, and my favorite... working with video special effects.
If ya' want to put me under the microscope, then so be it. It's just damn hilarious how people over-react, become overly sensitive and think the world is just peachy-keen. Yeah... sure... and we REALLY landed on the moon.

I have peeves, opinions and questions like everyone else. And some of my mindless observations and cliches are ridiculous, disgusting, repulsive, immoral, insensitive, thoughtless, sarcastic and just plain, downright shitty. So... let's get started with a few of those....

It all started when I was a teenager, growing up in a tough neighborhood. I put my hand in some cement and felt another hand. I had plenty of pimples as a kid. One day I fell asleep in the library. When I woke up, a blind man was reading my face. And when I looked up my family tree, I found three dogs using it. And I wasn't pretty as a baby. My mother used to feed me with a sling shot. I could tell that my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio. As a matter of fact, it got so bad I remember dreaming I was kidnapped and they sent a piece of my finger to my father. He said he wanted more proof. JESUS!!!

Here's my definition of an optimist. An optimist is someone who falls off the Empire State Building, and after 50 floors says, "So far so good!"

My parents... geez... they used to move alot... but I always found them.

I've come to realize why lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place. Because that same place isn't there the second time.

I believe that everyone has a photographic memory... just some don't have film.

I've accepted the fact that I can't have everything. Besides... where would I put it?

And if I stepped on a cornflake, would that make me a cereal killer?

I can't understand why FuBar women insist on taking photos in the bathroom.
Ya' take a shit in there... so what's the point? In the pic we see a toilet and shower curtains. Fantastic. Thought they only had those in Europe. If ya' asked me I'd say you should flush this idea down the toilet... since you're already there... taking more photos. Not a photographer's primary place of choice for Mademoiselle-wannabees.

And here's my tip on loans.... ALWAYS BORROW FROM PESSIMISTS. Remember... they won't expect it back.

Believe me when I tell you I expect to live forever. And so far... so good. Now don't get me wrong. I am not afraid of death. I just don't want to be there when it happens. Then again, I can live my life everyday as if it is my last day and one day... I will be right.

Behold.... I've come to realize one thing about acupuncture... it's pointless.
And speaking of pointless, I see tons of the SAME PHOTOS... over & over again. All at arms length. Now don't get me wrong. FuBar women are HOT. But Jesus Christ.... the same photos, in the same folder, same camera shot, same camera distance, with the head tilted downward, turned to the right or left... and that's it. This makes a broken record sound pleasing to the ear for Christ sake. Beauty runs high on this website, but creativity...shit... I have no comment on that (or, did I just make one).

And for the love of God - BUY A GOD-DAMN TRIPOD. If you can afford to have cable or satellite in your house, then YOU can afford a tripod. They're about $25 and it'll hold the camera for ya'. Cameras have timers. I swear to my mother on it. Or, at least get somebody to take the pic for ya'. Then maybe we can appreciate your beauty from all angles and poses. Enough with wondering if you actually have a complete set of two arms and two hands. Especially those photos where you're holding the camera up in the air... Jesus.... enough with shots from the ceiling camera man.

I found a great way to attract money... work! And speaking about work I know housework can't kill you, but why take a chance?
Then there's this sale sign I saw on a Chinese Pet store window: "Buy one dog, get one flea".

If ya' asked me "...a day without sunshine"...is... well.... NIGHT!
And for all those who believe in the saying "If at first you don't succeed..."... believe me when I tell you... SKYDIVING is NOT for you.

It's sad and discerning when I see photos of FuBar women "giving you the finger". I guess it is their opportunity for "payback" after SO MANY have shown THEM the finger during their miserable lives. So... GOOD LUCK in their quest for earning RESPECT.

And why do psychics ask for your name? Better yet... how can you tell when you've run out of invisible ink? And all those people who have telekinetic powers... RAISE MY HAND!

Another peeve... and who the hell knows when and where this started... photos of FuBar women puckering their lips like salmon caught in a bear's mouth. It isn't sexy, sensuous, glamorous, nor will it attract male trout during their mating season. You're women - not fish having a bad reaction from an oil spill. If I needed to see that, I'd visit the neighborhood pet store and stare at the kissing fish. At least they're serious about it. Or, were women attacked by the Pucker-People virus? I was not aware of such a medical, I assume rare, bodily, condition... nor did I receive an email on it. My bad.

I am currently out of my mind. Back in five minutes.

My advice to you... never be afraid to try something new. I'm reminded that the ark was built by amateurs and professionals built the Titanic.

And to prove to you how BAD the US economy is, please explain this to me: how can a cemetery raise its burial cost and blame it on the cost of living? Where is Jesus now... when we need him?

There are some FuBar women who have decided to do one of three things:

1) Click on their photo and now suddenly you "need" to become their "friend" in order to enter their home page. Looks like over-indulged, self-importance is a major issue here on FuBar. And to think we tell children not to talk to strangers. Well I've got news for you ladies.... that's a bigger turn-off then you think. "You ain't got it like that"... as the kids say. Everybody knows the internet is full of bogus photos, "photoshop-ed" and altered in some fashion. And all this because Hugh Hefner turned you down for the next issue of Playboy. Holy shit !

2) Then there's the admission price... no credits... no get-in. Wanna see their folder.. it'll cost ya'. Women are lowering themselves to the same type of man I've read they wish to avoid. "Do not ask for cams, my email address", etc. But for a price, "I will grant you access." And who says hypocrisy has no value. There's a word for women who sell their services, their Hefner-denied photos." And I'll let you ladies figure that out. Hey, it's your life. But I assure you... you can't be that important if you need to stoop this low. And you've clearly forgotten how truly beautiful you are.

3) Then there's the folders marked "private". Amazing. It's understandable when access is granted only to REAL family members (uncles, moms, sisters, cousins, etc). Those are the people whom you ACTUALLY KNOW. But if your desire is to limit access to privileged, empty-shell, complete strangers, I'd say you're in the wrong line of business and should consider joining Homeland Security.
Now don't get me wrong. I don't pretend to be an expert on women. I've always had bad luck with them. I remember as a teen a girl phoned me and said, "Come over. Nobody's home". I came over. Nobody was home.
And another thing... why is it that every news program begins with "Good morning," "Good afternoon," or "Good evening"...and then proceed to tell you why it isn't.

Let me ask you... you know the speed of light, so what's the speed of dark?
And while we're on the subject of light, we know light travels faster than sound. Is that why some people appear bright until you hear them speak?

Back to FuBar... I rate friends and fans as much as possible. I'll empty the 11s for ya'. You'll find I am loyal to a fault.
I shut-down easily when lied to, deceived or suckered. Just a heads-up on that.

I'm beginning to wonder what would happen if you were scared "half-to-death" TWICE?
And I've made a decision... when I die, I'm leaving my body to science fiction.
I'm an Aquarius... born February 14th... and NO, I do not have wings and do not own arrows!

And check this out: a fine is a tax for doing wrong. And a tax is a fine for doing well. Are we Americans fucking stupid, or what?

And why is there a large quantity of photos on FuBar labeled "Me", "It's Me", "Me again", etc. Trust me when I tell you... WE ALL KNOW IT'S YOU. We know you think we're Goddamn stupid or retarded. But, in closed-room meetings during the wee hours, we have surmised that it wasn't "I"... nor is it "them". I'm sure we all thought it could've been "she" or "him", but a sip of coffee helped clarify that. The consensus is... we believe... it's YOU, but only through much prayer, forensic and DNA testing... because it's labeled as "Me", "It's Me", "Me again". At first it was tough to figure out, but FuBarians have broken-down your Da Vinci code. FuBar members wish to thank you for that much-needed clarification. Therefore the investigation has been called off. And if you wish to know who just made that last statement... IT'S ME !

I have a problem with TODAY, when YESTERDAY was better... but who knows what will happen TOMORROW. Then again, two days from now... tomorrow will be yesterday. And hopefully the act of prejudice and hatred will cease. But I doubt that. The other day I saw a hamburger go into a bar and asked for a gin and tonic. The bartender told him, "Sorry, we don't serve food."

Hey... somebody drank my coffee.
And we should all be grateful towards cannibals. They are NOT vegetarians. They are humanitarians!

Join The Army... visit exotic places... meet strange people... then kill them.

A little wisdom from moi.... if things for you are overwhelming, overbearing, too-much, you're getting "hit" from all sides and it just seems to keep coming... remember this.... PRESSURE MAKES DIAMONDS!

There's something about a female anthropologist that turns me on. Angelina.... Angelina....

I've wondered if women actually do fart. I doubt it. After all, it would require an asshole. So I guess they'll have to wait until THEY GET MARRIED.
I would know. My ex-wife was a great housekeeper. When we divorced.... she kept the house!

If an international crew of astronauts were sent out to space - an American, A Japanese and a Frenchman, and the question popped up, "What time is it?"... well, who would have the right time?