I’m Huge in the Sunshine State

There’s a cease-fire in place; anybody celebrating? Didn’t think so. If you’re reading this blog, you probably know enough to recognize that it’s a bunch of hoo-ha and nothing is going to change. (Hey, did I just become Israeli? And ech omrim “hoo-ha”?)

Well, for those of you who are in the festive mood, apparently somebody reached into my future and pulled out this horrible vision. This was a party I threw Saturday night in support of the soldiers. I don’t know if I’m excited by the return of my golden locks, or mortified by….everything else?

Who the hell is this dude who thinks he’s big enough to go by one name only? Madonna…Prince….Benji the Hebrew-speaking gingi?

When you’re this big, do you really need to draw people out with the promise of free parking?
Justin Timberlake, I hope you’re taking notes.

Glad we can now return to oh-so important topics.

Thanks, Lonny….I think.

A few minutes later: Apparently I should have said “bunch of caca”, “doesn’t mean squat”, or something of the like. It sounded to me like a word that meant garbage….but I guess not. Thanks to commenter Gilbert and Urban Dictionary for clearing this up for me.

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