And what the hell...I’m glad.
For these are dark times, or rather crimson times here at the Bagwine abode.
You guessed it…Just in time for Super Bowl XLIII, Schmoop’s uterus, whom she refers to as Syd, has penalized her…
And as a result, Syd has left Seamus and I holding the ball with nobody around to toss it to.
This is what I'll be seeing when I'm not at work this weekend...
And in keeping with our theme of uterine non-coagulation, this week's offering of Worst Frickin' Songs Ever Recorded...
Oy Vay...I like Alice Cooper; but man, that song blows.
Have a lovely Saturday. Please join me tomorrow for a special Super Bowl Edition of our Sunday Morning Church Disservice.
Until then, pass me another gross of pads, stay free and as always...
Cheers!!
