In the time it takes you to read this post, pop-star and movie sex kitten Jessica Simpson, on the brink of preparing to tell yet another glossy mag’s reporter about her heroic refusal to meet with the President, will suddenly realize she can’t remember his name—and even with some quick thinking by her press secretary (who helpfully points to her crotch), all Ms Simpson can manage is a sputtering condemnation of both the Iraq war and “President Culottes” for “dragging us into such a hurtful fagmire.”
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Man, I though the return of gauchos was bad enough, I’m not ready for coulottes too.
Tuna–Chicken of the Sea.
Hey man, I care what Jessica Simpson thinks.
tw: piece. and that’s why.
(she’s a single gal now, y’know)
like there’s a chance of any hair down there…
“who is the president of Brazil?”
Jessica doesn’t speak French, so she’d never say “Culottes.” It would be “Skorts.”
It would be “Skorts.â€Â
Somebody just got placed under homo suspicion.
I’m pretty sure Skort was the prefect for the Imperial Romulan Diplomatic Corps.
But I could be wrong.
It could be the pet name for Nick Lachey’s penis.
Somebody just dated himself.
Dammit, John Pikes, I had a really good gag for that, and you beat me to it. And when I say “a really good gag,” of course, I mean “pretty much that one.”
Heh heh… and some people call that landing strip a “Hitler”…
Pike
Somebody just dated himself.
I did that all through college.
I know, Craig … I know. It’s ok.
OT, but on target
All the breathless leak reporting because of the prosecutors filing?
Turns out he goofed and sent a letter to the Judge today, but it was fun while it lasted.
Atrios, when reached for comment has this to say “OPEN THREAD”
I thought I had a warped mind. Bravo, Jeff.
What is ths? Trying to paint J.S. under the flag of liberalism?
tw go fetch
What can be expected from those who daily barf their speen just to remain forever sixteen.
In the time it took me to read this post, the Pudgy One himself made an appearance here, which page I had found here. Click his chubby little face then scroll down to watch him whip out his weiner.
No no no!
Jessica loves Bush. She just won’t love Bush in public, for money.
Aw, c’mon, Jeff.
Hot as a firecracker AND dumb as a sack of hammers. I mean, just what teenaged boy (and in the new millenium, the teen years commonly extend into the forties and fifties)would even give a shit what she says? How could they hear her anyway with all that blood pounding through their heads? Pun intended.
In the quiet silent seconds I turned off the light switch
And I came down to meet you in the half light the moon left
While a cluster of night jars sang some songs out of tune
A mantle of bright light shone down from a room
Come down in time I still hear her say
So clear in my ear like it was today
Come down in time was the message she gave
Come down in time and I’ll meet you half way
I don’t know if I should have heard her as yet
But a true love like hers is a hard love to get
And I’ve walked most all the way and I ain’t heard her call
And I’m getting to thinking if she’s coming at all
Come down in time I still hear her say
So clear in my ear like it was today
Come down in time was the message she gave
Come down in time and I’ll meet you half way
There are women and women and some hold you tight
While some leave you counting the stars in the night
Spamword, “special.” It’s fucking freaky, Jeff.
wait, wait, wait, there is a difference between culottes and skorts. cou, kul..whatever are like wide legged shorts. and a skort LOOKS like a skirt from the front because there’s extra cloth hanging in front of the shorts bit. make sense? oh and i’m guessing culottes are slightly shorter than gouchos?
“She just won’t love Bush in public, for money.”
Rather she loves Bush, but evidently the Republican Party… not so much. In this she’s not exactly lonely or particularly clueless.
Beaver? You mean… vagina?
/Lebowski
Quick impression of me talking to a hot liberal chick:
“Oh yeah, can you believe what big business is doing to the environment? It’s awful!”
Ans STILL nobody has beaten the sign from an SF anti-war protest:
“Lesbians Against Bush”
Classic, baby.
MULVA!!!
1971 = skorts(we called ‘em culottes, but they looked like tennis skirts)amd vinyl zip up go-go boots that made your feet sweat like a sonofabitch. Especially in the ambient temp of a non-air-conditioned elementary school in central Virginia. I also had a mavy blue vinyl midi skirt. With matching vest. And quite the maxi-dress collection.
I dreamed of straight leg-jeans, and penny loafers….The 70’s made me cry.
Hey Sarah,
I bet when you sat on a vinyl chair with that midi, the sound would’ve made a longshoreman blush.
“It was the chair! I swear!”
IIRC, *getting up* was the real problem.
On the plus side, the plastic separated and got blisters like bubble wrap…they were fun to pop on the dull busride home.
“Poppin’ the skirt-blisters” is that what the kids are calling it these days?