Thursday September 30, 2010
Picture of the Day
Main StreetTHE GIRLS ABOVE MECharlie McDowell lives in Los Angeles, California. He lives in a downstairs condo. Upstairs lives two females, who are the typical LA, California, bimbo, airheaded dingbats.
Obviously, the walls and floors are thin and he hears EVERYTHING that goes on and all their conversations. So he tweets about them. Actually, he writes letters to them.
http://twitter.com/charliemcdowellI have posted some of the tweets here. The bold faced words are Charlie's.
Dear GAM(Girls Above Me), "He said he was Spanish but not a Mexican. What the hell, that doesn’t even make sense!”
It does to the entire country of Spain.Dear GAM, "In getting colonics, we basically paid 75 dollars to take the biggest sh**s of our lives."
Ha, mine was only 7.99 at Chili's.Dear Girls Above Me, "The Bible is an actual book you can read? I thought people just did chants and stuff from it."
Oh dear God above me.Dear GAM, "Aww, I felt so bad, this homeless-looking bearded guy on Fairfax actually thought it was New Years."
Happy Rosh Hashanah ladies.Dear GAM, "Okay, I honestly just noticed that keyboards aren't in alphabetical order."
This is a quote from you and my two year old cousin.Dear GAM, "Did you see that Schwarzenegger’s in a new movie? Is he allowed to do that when he’s Mayor?"
Only if Governor Obama OK's it.Dear GAM, “I have the worst headache of my entire life. Do I need my tonsils out?”
I think you better call your doctor on speaker and ask.Dear Girls Above Me, "What oil spill? I thought I heard there was a flood somewhere."
Current events must feel like a Rubik’s Cube to you. Dear GAM, “No! The ‘which Sex and the City girl are you’ survey said I'm Samantha. I'm so a Carrie!”
Don’t beat yourself up, I got Miranda.Dear Girls Above Me, Sometimes when you’re having sex, I play you in Jenga. Right now I’m winning 3 games to 2.Dear Girls Above Me, "He told me his dad’s gay, what was I supposed to say?!"
Not "I'm sorry."My personal favorite:
Dear GAM, Ladies, your casserole went in the oven at 7:40, it's now 8:24 and smells like--"CATHY, the--the thingy's on fire!"
Never mind.
