On “Jay Leno’s Garage,” Jay Leno drove a 2017 Bugatti Chiron, a $2.9 mil. car that goes 261 MPH. The Bugatti Chiron actually comes with its own attorney to get you out of jail.
On “Jay Leno’s Garage,” Jay Leno drove a 2017 Bugatti Chiron, a $2.9 mil. car that goes 261 MPH. 261 MPH is so fast, you can actually go back in time to before you died in the fiery car crash.
On “Jay Leno’s Garage,” Jay Leno drove a 2017 Bugatti Chiron, a $2.9 mil. car that goes 261 MPH. For those hectic days when going any less than a third of the speed of sound is just not enough.
On “Jay Leno’s Garage,” Jay Leno drove a 2017 Bugatti Chiron, a $2.9 mil. car that goes 261 MPH. Because every American has the right to drive a car that goes 100 MPH faster than the average speed of the winner of the Indianapolis 500.
Weathermen in the South are providing snow-driving tips for novices. Basically they suggest all drivers drive like they’re in a white Bronco taking OJ to jail.
Weathermen in the South are providing snow-driving tips for novices. Basically they suggest all drivers drive like Kris Jenner after her five Bloody Mary brunch.
Weathermen in the South are providing snow-driving tips for novices. Basically they suggest all drivers drive like
Weathermen in the South are providing driving tips for novices driving in the snow. Basically they suggest all drivers drive like Caitlyn Jenner after a night out at Lady’s Night at the bar.
Tom Brady is looking for his sixth Super Bowl ring. That is a ring for each finger on one hand if you live in Chernobyl.
Tom Brady is looking for his sixth Super Bowl ring. Maybe this will finally turn Tom’s luck around.
Tom Brady is looking for his sixth Super Bowl ring. Maybe this will atone for Tom’s humiliation of earning less than half of what his wife, Gisele Bundchen, makes as a super model.
The former USA gymnastics doctor, Larry Nassar, was sentenced to 175 years for molesting girls. That’s quite a while. Good thing child molesters are so popular in prison.
Larry Nassar and Harvey Weinstein are examples that you can judge a book by its cover.
Tom Brady is looking for his sixth Super Bowl ring. Tom Brady was the 199th pick in the 2000 draft. 199 is more people than have dated Khloe Kardashian. In fact, all of those 199 did date Khloe Kardashian.
Matt Lauer’s wife kicked him out of his house. Matt knew it was trouble when he got home and she said, “Where in the world is Matt Lauer? Anywhere but here, dickhead.”
For the second time, an Eagles fan was arrested for punching a police horse. The prosecution will tack on the mounting evidence of a haymaker punch to paint him as the mane culprit and saddle him with charges. So there will be no bale.
In Saudi Arabia, several camels in a camel beauty contest, were disqualified for using botox. And that is this week’s topic that, if I had invented, would make me a racist.
In Saudi Arabia, several camels, in a camel beauty contest, were disqualified for using botox. And yet the silicone injections in the hump go unpunished.
Sunday was the SAG Awards given by actors to actors for acting with the award itself called The Actor. Here’s my question: Why is there no award for the best acceptance of The Actor award?
If these clowns were any farther up their own asses they would be proctologists.
After dating actress Olivia Munn, Packers QB, Aaron Rodgers is now dating race car driver, Danica Patrick. It seems Aaron has a type. Short, dark and sassy. Sorry, Clay Matthews III.
Matt Lauer’s wife kicked him out of his house. Actually she locked him out with a button she had installed under her desk.
Comments?
New England Patriot's Tom Brady has injured his hand. It is pretty serious. When he wins the Super Bowl, he may have to put the ring on a different finger.
The Eagles upset the Vikings and are headed to the Super Bowl. "That is so exciting, " said the Kardashians. "We hope they play "Hotel California."
Trying to test Rob Gronkowski for concussion protocol is like trying to test a stripper for glitter.
Tom Brady is releasing a fitness and nutrition book. Step # 1, be born looking like Tom Brady. Step #2, eat a diet that would make a Tibetan Monk depressed. Step #3, look just like Tom Brady.
Rumor has it Tom Brady's hand injury is far worse than the Patriots are telling us. It hurt so much, Brady had to have someone else deflate the balls.
The rumor is Tom Brady's hand injury is worse than the Patriot's are saying. The Patriots are trying to deflate this story.
Rumor has it Tom Brady's hand injury is far worse than the Patriots are telling us. Brady’s hand hurt so much, having a billionaire super model kiss it did not make it better.
Since you asked:
Mrs. Holland was my introduction that there are not only evil people in the world, but that they live nearby.
Doug Holland was a fat kid in fourth grade who got bullied for being fat. Doug was a nice, funny and smart kid, and I liked him, so I picked on the bullies who picked on him. Not saying I was Batman, but I was big and strong and learned to hate the bullies who picked on my older brother, John. Hence the bullying of Doug stopped and we became friends.
As a way of thanking me, I got invited over to Doug’s house to play after school. Upon entering the large and impressive Holland household, the first thing I noticed was two three-foot tall silver posts holding a red velvet rope in between, just like the kind in the movie theater baring you from the theater, only these were baring entry to the Holland living room.
On a table was a sign: No children allowed in the living room.
In the living room we were not allowed was a couch that was covered in plastic. I had never seen one before.
The next thing I noticed were many, many jars of candy on display throughout the house. At the time I remember thinking, A, awesome. And B, this is why Doug is so fat. Well, it turns out the candy bowls were not so awesome, for we were not allowed to eat any of the candy. (Doug must have been sneaking some on the side)
Mrs. Holland was a short, heavy-set woman with a very fancy large blonde beehive hairdo. Even at 9-years-old, I knew this hairstyle was no longer in fashion. Mrs. Holland did not appear to be thrilled at my arrival and told Doug we should go play in the backyard.
At some point, Mrs Holland let out the family dog, whose name escapes my memory, in the backyard. Their family dog was a great dane which was way bigger than both Doug and me combined. He was brindled color and extremely friendly. So friendly he decided to play a game with the newcomer. The game was “Knock the kid down with your huge paws and bite him if he tries to get up.”
Granted, the dog was play-biting, but at 180 pounds, with me at about 50 pounds, the play biting broke the skin on my butt and my arm. I was sobbing and screaming in utter terror as the dog continued to attack me. Doug tried to get the dog off of me, but he had no luck.
At some point I was screaming and crying so loudly, I remember a neighbor yelling across the fence asking if I was OK. No, was my loud response. The neighbor must have not believed me.
How Mrs Holland was able to stay inside and ignore a screaming and crying 9-year-old child being knocked around like a rag doll and bitten by their 180 pound brindle-hued, huge dog is now, as a parent, beyond my comprehension.
After about ten minutes of sheer “I thought I was going to die in a horrible way” terror, I was muddy, bloody, red faced from crying and had no idea where my tears ended and the dog slobber began, Mrs. Holland finally emerged to put the dog away.
Mrs Holland was annoyed at me for upsetting their dog and told me to go home. How I was able to not develop a lifelong fear of dogs is a testament to a child’s resilience and mental fortitude.
And yet, to this day, 50 years later, when I see a brindle great dane, my butt cheeks tighten enough to crack walnuts.
A year later, in 5th grade, another friend named Doug invited me to come over to his house to play. Their house was on the wildly posh and expensive Woodley Road of Winnetka. Doug's mother appeared well-dressed, like a mother in a cookie commercial and, as pleasantly as you can imagine, she announced she did not like me and asked me to leave.
Can you beat that? A grown woman told an 11-year-old boy, me, she just met she did not like the sight of him, me, and kicked him, again me, out of their mansion. (Doug's mother was later rumored to be no stranger to the bottle)
Cut to around 17 years later. That same mom's daughter, Doug's younger and pretty sister, Karen, moved into my apartment building in San Diego. Karen looked me up to help her get acquainted. In my most neighborly way, I helped Karen get acquainted about six or seven times. Once on her kitchen table.
That one was for you, Doug's mom. Mrs. Holland, I still owe you.
