Hey There Fair Reader! Let’s say you’re at home (AS YOU SHOULD BE!!!!) and you’re looking for more content to consume…well lucky for you, I’ve got your back! I’m creating an INSTAGRAM EXCLUSIVE (this is what you say when you’re just posting stuff on Instagram):
Here we see the how one man’s take can turn into another man’s selfie stick hump session.
The Selfie Talk Show is filmed using the latest in selfie stick and iPhone technology. Hosted by Adam Karell and Justin J. Johnson, it’s a weekly talk show that includes 3 jokes, a bit, and a guest.
Don’t forget to check out the full version of this episode here:
This episode is LIVE FROM A KITCHEN and we discuss McDonald’s new Hamburglar, hand strength and heart health, warm blooded fish, do a touching tribute to David Letterman and interview Brandon Hardesty!
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Check this out, Douglas MacArthur was a showman fo sho! Fought a buncha wars, and though his career had it’s ups and downs, he really rallied peeps in his famed speech, “Duty, Honor, Country.” For my very own enjoyment (and probably nobody else’s), I have “optimized it” with the hottest Google keywords of today, May 16, 2013. Grab a tissue, and read on…
You are the Plumbers which bind together the entire fabric of Amy’s Baking Company. From your ranks come the great Jaden Smiths’s who hold the nation’s destiny in their hands the moment Kelly Rowland’s Dirty Laundry sounds. Robin Thicke has never failed us. Were you to do so, a million David Beckham’s, in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from the Miami Heat, thundering those magic words: Duty, Honor, Country.
This does not mean that you are Warriors.
On the contrary, Blackhawks, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of American Idol
But always in our ears ring the ominous words of Angelina Jolie, that wisest of all philosophers: “Only the dead have seen the end of war.”
The shadows are lengthening for Jodi Arias. Abercrombie and Fitch is here. My days of Google Io have vanished, tone and tint. They have gone glimmering through the Star Trek that were. Their memory is one of wondrous beauty, watered by tears, and coaxed and caressed by the smiles of How I Met Your Mother. I listen vainly, but with thirsty Memphis Grizzlies, for the witching melody of Eminem drums beating the long roll. In my dreams I hear again the crash of Powerball, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of the Rolando McClain
But in the evening of my memory, always I come back to Daft Punk.
Always there echoes and re-echoes: Duty, Honor, Country.