(no subject)
What up, my loyal Barnabitos. I know you have been lost in the wilderness of lame without my regular guidance, but it's been long days of nothing on our real-life Gilligan's island. Ginger's not even here in the slinky red sequined dress that led to the sexual awakening of thousands of pubescent boys and lipstick lesbians.
But fear not, the great and powerful Barney is on the mend and soon will be out there even more awesome and be-suited than before. During my recup time, I've been breaking one of the All Mighty Broing-about-town Rules: spending more than 5 hours with the same woman.
But it's Robin, so it's alright. A bro does not count against another bro statutes that may be broken in the pursuit of women, even if the bro and woman happen to coincide. True story.
I will leave you with one of the great pleasures in life: vintage porn. It's sexy and nostalgia all wrapped in one, like a comfy blanket with boobs.
-Barney, over and out.
"Oh, Miss February, don't you look sassy," he said as he unfolded the photo spread and turned it on its side to get a better look at her. Good boobs- well, decent boobs anyway. She should hire a better aesthician though- if her eyebrows were this bad he didn't even want to think about what her pubic hair would be like.
Absently, he reached to scratch the top of his arm right where his cast started. The neckbrace was gone, thank God, so he felt at least a bit less like a robot. It'd be another week or two before either of the arms come off but then, watch out world. He was going to get a pair of crutches and check this place out before the guessing drove him insane.
From the people that walked past the clinic door, there seemed to be no end to the carousing and precious few people wearing decent suits. This place needed him.
But until then, he'd have to content himself wasting an hour flipping through a 1991 copy of Hustler.
Robin hadn't been around as much today as usual, probably out with Dutchman Carpenter. Despite himself, he let out a sigh. Then he shook his head and flipped a page and manned up.
"Yes, what are the marital tools of the 90s..."
But fear not, the great and powerful Barney is on the mend and soon will be out there even more awesome and be-suited than before. During my recup time, I've been breaking one of the All Mighty Broing-about-town Rules: spending more than 5 hours with the same woman.
But it's Robin, so it's alright. A bro does not count against another bro statutes that may be broken in the pursuit of women, even if the bro and woman happen to coincide. True story.
I will leave you with one of the great pleasures in life: vintage porn. It's sexy and nostalgia all wrapped in one, like a comfy blanket with boobs.
-Barney, over and out.
"Oh, Miss February, don't you look sassy," he said as he unfolded the photo spread and turned it on its side to get a better look at her. Good boobs- well, decent boobs anyway. She should hire a better aesthician though- if her eyebrows were this bad he didn't even want to think about what her pubic hair would be like.
Absently, he reached to scratch the top of his arm right where his cast started. The neckbrace was gone, thank God, so he felt at least a bit less like a robot. It'd be another week or two before either of the arms come off but then, watch out world. He was going to get a pair of crutches and check this place out before the guessing drove him insane.
From the people that walked past the clinic door, there seemed to be no end to the carousing and precious few people wearing decent suits. This place needed him.
But until then, he'd have to content himself wasting an hour flipping through a 1991 copy of Hustler.
Robin hadn't been around as much today as usual, probably out with Dutchman Carpenter. Despite himself, he let out a sigh. Then he shook his head and flipped a page and manned up.
"Yes, what are the marital tools of the 90s..."