<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708</id><updated>2011-10-26T22:06:19.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Italian Stallion</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116972642888628235</id><published>2007-01-25T03:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T12:01:35.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Picture No One Wanted To Take.................</title><content type='html'>So, this is a picture from Bonnaroo last year. I went with 7 of my friends in a RV. I'm not sure if everyone who reads this knows what Bonnaroo is, so I'll tell you. It's a outside concert in Tennessee. It was awesome! There are people from all over that make this trip. Mostly in Rv's or campers. It's out in the woods, kind of like a Woodstock but I'm sure not as good. I had a great time though. We were on our way to see Tom Petty and I saw this handicap sign on the ground. Considering the fact that we were on our way to see Tom Petty, we smoked a lot of the wacky tabaccie, and we were all pretty stoned. You can do pretty much whatever you want out there, as long as you're not a dick and you keep it cool. You know, don't be a dick kind of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see this sign and I pick it up. I was trying to get my boy D to stop and take a picture with me. I wanted to take a picture with me pointing the sign at him, like I was saying he's handicapped. We were all that at the time. He didn't want to stop but I talked him into it. We didn't even remember about the picture when we got back. When they developed the film the picture above came out. Turns out it was  the funniest and best crazy picture of the whole trip. Leave it to Stallion to make funny memories...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116972642888628235?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116972642888628235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116972642888628235' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116972642888628235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116972642888628235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2007/01/picture-no-one-wanted-to-take.html' title='The Picture No One Wanted To Take.................'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116831398826315489</id><published>2007-01-08T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T19:39:48.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wrong Fucking House..................</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/375942/elvismidget.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/335476/elvismidget.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture is pretty funny. I googled "redneck family party" and that's one of the pictures I found. My dads side isn't really redneck. More drunks then anything, but I just recently started going back around the family get togethers. I'm not going to lie, the only reason I was going is to try to find some loans. Not from them, but what I'm getting at, try to sell them a mortgage. Whatever, not important. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on Saturday my cousin, the only one that I really talk to or like for that matter, invited me to a family party. It was at one of my fathers cousins house that I didn't know how to get to very well. It was about forty five minutes from my house up in the county. So I proceeded to get directions from him before I left. I got my directions and was on my way. I hadn't seen my grandmother on Christmas because that's how we roll so I had a little shit gift for her. I also grabbed a bottle of wine for the hosts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get near where I percieve to be the party that I'm supposed to be at. When my cousin gave me the directions, he said it's on the corner of Sunshine (the main street) and Baldwin. He told me just to look for the cars and park out front. I kept driving until I saw Baldwin and noticed tons of cars parked in the front yard of the corner of Baldwin and Sunshine. I called my cousin to see if he was there yet and make sure I was at the right spot. He told me he was inside just come in through the garage door. I parked my car and got out with gifts in hand. Walked up to the back yard and I saw some people standing on the back porch. I didn't recognize anyone but just figured it was part of Harold's family. The guy who married into my family. So I politely nodded my head to whoever was out there and went inside the house. I started to get a weird feeling about the whole thing. I didn't know ANY of these people. Surely by now I would see someone from the (insert my last name here) side. Not a one. I walked through the living room and into the kitchen. There was a bunch of teenage girls in the kitchen eating. So, ah, I didn't know any of them either. Said "Hello" and kept walking to where the basement door was open. I know, kitchen full of teenage girls, why did I leave, right? Just kidding...... Keep in mind I'm carrying these stupid wrapped presents and a gift bag with wine in it. I could hear people downstairs, which is normally where a bar would be and that's where I would find a family member, right? WRONG!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone in the basement looks up at me, keep in mind I have know idea who they are. I said "Hello" and turned around and went back up the steps. Headed back through the kitchen, through the dining room and out the porch door, not looking at one person. I got out on to the porch, people were still out there, and I started dialing my cousin. I said......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dude, where the fuck are you, I just walked through the whole house and didn't see you. I don't even think I have the right fucking house, but it's a family party."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said "I'm in the kitchen. I didn't see you come through." then he starts busting out laughing. I was asking him if he was sure it was Baldwin, he asks someone and I can hear in the back round....."No it's in Baldwin Estates but the street is Bottomend." I WAS IN THE WRONG FUCKING HOUSE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin told me Baldwin. He is laughing his ass off and then tell's everyone there what happened before I got there. So when I walk in everyone is laughing and clapping. I felt like such a dumbass. Then I had to tell the story a million fucking times. It was hilarious and it's never happened to me before but WTF. I wish I could have took pictures of the peoples faces. Everyone was watching me as I was walking around. The best part is, I didn't say anything like "sorry, wrong party", I just walked right the fuck back out of there as quick as I could. It rained the night before and I was parked on the front lawn like most of the people. When I was leaving I tore the grass up a little because I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. I wonder what they were all saying when I left? Plus, I can't believe not one person asked who the stranger was that was walking around the house......That's some funny shit right there............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The standing joke at the real party was "If we run out of beer we'll just go to the other party and say Stallion invited us".........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuckers..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116831398826315489?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116831398826315489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116831398826315489' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116831398826315489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116831398826315489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2007/01/wrong-fucking-house.html' title='The Wrong Fucking House..................'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116827545959991536</id><published>2007-01-08T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T08:57:39.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kate Moss On The Beach.........</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/620893/Why%2520granny%2520should%2520NOT%2520wear%2520a%2520thong.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/800091/Why%2520granny%2520should%2520NOT%2520wear%2520a%2520thong.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116827545959991536?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116827545959991536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116827545959991536' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116827545959991536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116827545959991536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2007/01/kate-moss-on-beach.html' title='Kate Moss On The Beach.........'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116716714395636657</id><published>2006-12-26T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T13:05:43.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk About Super Sized!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/943058/mjuu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/768673/mjuu.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try not to eat McDonalds that much, if ever, but there are sometimes when you're in a hurry and you have no choice. If I knew the drive through person was as spunky as this one, I think I would go everyday. I would get those pancakes with a side of bacon and drip some maple syrup all over that shit. I wonder if this chick smells like french fries? That would just be an extra bonus if she did. Man, now I'm horny and hungry.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave from softball practice every night&lt;br /&gt;It's getting dark, but the "Golden Arches" light up the way&lt;br /&gt;I turn the corner at the traffic light&lt;br /&gt;I count my money and then &lt;br /&gt;I rehearse what I'm going to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd like an order of fries, a quarter-pounder with cheese,&lt;br /&gt;I love the light in your eyes, will you go out with me please?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with a McDonald's girl&lt;br /&gt;She has a smile of innocence so tender and warm&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with a McDonald's girl&lt;br /&gt;She is an angel in a polyester uniform&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Can I get you some fries with that?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't try to impress anyone&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't act real tough &lt;br /&gt;like all the other girls that I know&lt;br /&gt;She don't treat me like a simpleton&lt;br /&gt;She's not ashamed to be the only other virgin I know&lt;br /&gt;And when my hamburger's cold, I get up ready to go,&lt;br /&gt;She's only fifteen years old, and I'm in love with her soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's got a gold tooth, you know she's hardcore&lt;br /&gt;She'll show you a good time, then she'll show you the door, boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with a McDonald's girl&lt;br /&gt;She has a smile of innocence so tender and warm&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with a McDonald's girl&lt;br /&gt;She is an angel in a polyester uniform&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as you wanted those lyrics to be mine, they weren't...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/McDonald's-Girl-lyrics-Barenaked-Ladies/1AD7536A78F6E1D348256895001020EC&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116716714395636657?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116716714395636657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116716714395636657' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116716714395636657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116716714395636657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/12/talk-about-super-sized.html' title='Talk About Super Sized!!!!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116658767557029550</id><published>2006-12-19T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T07:16:39.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Gotta Fight---For The Right---To Put Up Rights.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/463556/brinking%20rights.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/602896/brinking%20rights.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone put their Christmas rights up. Shit, I always do that. I meant to say that I hope everyone put their horiday rights up. Gotta be poriticarry correct, ya know? I personarry could care ress, don't get me wrong, my rights are up. I'm just saying, it was a rice horiday when you were younger, but now it's just a horiday. It's funny, because I get more preasure out of seeing my nephew opening presents then opening my own. He doesn't berieve in the fatman anymore, but it's still cool to see him get the shit that he wanted. He's getting to the age where he actuarry prays with the stuff you get him. When he was younger he'd pray with shit for a week or so, and then it was straight to the croset or toy chest. Wait, speaking of toy chest, Barbie had the worse toy chest ever! Anyway, I hope everyone has a safe and fucked up horiday.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Put your fucking rights up!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116658767557029550?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116658767557029550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116658767557029550' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116658767557029550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116658767557029550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/12/you-gotta-fight-for-right-to-put-up.html' title='You Gotta Fight---For The Right---To Put Up Rights.....'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116546185502390347</id><published>2006-12-06T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T21:42:11.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>America's next top model?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/231120/ATT1730895.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/975055/ATT1730895.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To start things off, this one thought she was to fat for the show and decided to stay at the beach. Maybe she shouldn't have ate that last grape, ya know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/78759/ATT1730901.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/671622/ATT1730901.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one came in her bathing suit from the beach. I was really pissed when she left. I had this whole plan set up to get her in the water with me. I figured I'd charm her a little and get her to swim out further with me. Just relax out in the open water with her. Then as soon as a good wave would come, I'd jump on the bitches back and surf her all the way back in. Then, I will ask her if she would like to go swimming again? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/10481/ATT1730899.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/992005/ATT1730899.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody was wondering where Alyeein was? No one could seem to locate her. We yelled her name but got no response. I guess we have to shoot without her? As soon as we get ready to go on without her, we hear someone screaming "HELP" coming from the bathroom. Turns out, Alyeein slipped in a puddle of who knows what, and got stuck in a toilet paper roll. As you can see, the guy behind her can't figure out how to get it off or how the hell happened in the first place. The show must go on though.......... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/865853/ATT1730897.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/313451/ATT1730897.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This ?model? was late to the show also. I don't know what it is with these fools that makes them think they can show up late. We didn't even have time to do her hair. She had to go out there the same way she showed up and to top it off, she starts out with the 'chicken wing' pose. I guess she shouldn't have stuck around at that bukkake party as long as she did. That's gonna be hard to get out once it hardens.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/311183/ATT1730898.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/600890/ATT1730898.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This chick was the best looking out of all of them. To bad she just came from a concentration camp.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/738425/ATT1730902.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/756879/ATT1730902.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what to say about this one. I thought she was good in Cocoon, maybe she should stick to acting...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/799349/ATT1730904.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/369614/ATT1730904.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You lazy bitch! Stop sitting around like a fucking popsicle-stick-statue and get on the runway!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/855348/ATT1730903.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/253292/ATT1730903.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had cookies for a snack, but the only one eating them didn't need to. Only one girl offered to help pass out the cookies. The other girls were mad that there was  food within twenty feet of them.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't take it anymore. This show sucked and these ?models? were bitching the whole fucking time. I didn't even let the last one finish. We got a good picture of the chop stick leaving though and added it to the shoot. I'm not going to pay her either. God only knows she would just spend it on food.......... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/668067/ATT1730900.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/281779/ATT1730900.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116546185502390347?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116546185502390347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116546185502390347' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116546185502390347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116546185502390347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/12/americas-next-top-model.html' title='America&apos;s next top model?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116533787593326591</id><published>2006-12-05T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T08:57:55.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Internet Fighting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/996023/tart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/625376/tart.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116533787593326591?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116533787593326591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116533787593326591' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116533787593326591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116533787593326591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/12/internet-fighting.html' title='Internet Fighting'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116529006490289481</id><published>2006-12-04T21:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T20:01:08.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't you want IT?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/357405/llllllllllllll.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/631338/llllllllllllll.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone should get one of these. IT would even be a great gift for Christmas. I personally have had one almost 2 years now. IT's great, whenever I need a can or bottle opener, IT shows up just in time. IT has a weird sense of when IT's needed. The other day I used IT to open my mail. I'm sure it's easier to do it myself, but you should see how quick IT gets the shit open. One day if I get some free time, I'll teach IT to read, then IT can read me my mail too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the time I needed the bush out front trimmed up. Before I even got a chance to tell IT to go do that, IT had already trimmed the bush that morning. It's like IT has a sick sense or something. As soon as it get's cold enough, I'm going to have IT carve me a nice ice sculpture out front for the holidays. It's fun to come up with new uses for IT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like a week ago, I couldn't get the straw in my Capri Sun, and IT came over and put a perfect hole for my straw. You should have saw the smile on my face. I can't wait to use IT the next time I buy a cd. That plastic that is always a bitch to get off will be easy as shit now that I have IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even let a friend take IT out for a couple of beers one night. I thought they had a goodtime but I was mistaken. Hey, I never told him to get a blowjob from IT. Who does that anyway? Borrow something from your friend and try to make IT blow you. He should have known better but now he doesn't even talk to me anymore. I guess you live and you learn...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116529006490289481?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116529006490289481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116529006490289481' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116529006490289481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116529006490289481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/12/dont-you-want-it.html' title='Don&apos;t you want IT?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116476504562214936</id><published>2006-11-28T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T17:50:45.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Personal HERO...............</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/499550/jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/252061/jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How funny is this mother-fucker? What the hell was he thinking? I can't believe he would make her sleep outside the tent, and has his bike right next to him. He must be a BMX stud or something. I mean, I sleep with a blanket and suck my thumb, but sleeping with your bike and leaving your chick outside is just GAY!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does he ever expect to get laid again after this? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is she the type of chick who likes assholes? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like those type of girl's every once in awhile. I'm not alway's an asshole to them, but you can get away with a lot of shit. I've gotten away with a lot in my past, shit, I get away with a lot right now being single. But when you see a couple camping and she's sleeping outside the tent and he's in it stradling his bike. Something is fucking-wrong with that picture.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that he is My New Personal HERO...............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116476504562214936?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116476504562214936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116476504562214936' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116476504562214936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116476504562214936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-new-personal-hero.html' title='My New Personal HERO...............'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116438972909039811</id><published>2006-11-24T12:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T09:35:29.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Klu Klux Kramer!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/1600/260682/kkkramersw7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/400/48804/kkkramersw7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought this was hilarious. After seeing the video of what he did, I think he went a little overboard, but it doesn't affect the way I feel about him. I would have liked it better if he made fun of those guy's without going where he did. I have a feeling he's going to lose a lot of his fans, but it is his own fault. I still think his character on Seinfeld was hilarious, and he will always be Kramer to me. When I got my first dog, he was just a puppy, and would run into the room all crazy. This was ten years ago when Seinfeld was really popular. I couldn't think of a name for him, but the way he ran into a room, reminded me of Kramer. So I decided to name him Cosmo. Did I mention he is a black dog?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116438972909039811?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116438972909039811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116438972909039811' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116438972909039811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116438972909039811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/11/klu-klux-kramer.html' title='Klu Klux Kramer!!!!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116416046443890703</id><published>2006-11-21T20:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T11:54:18.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunken tattoo.............</title><content type='html'>The other night I had to go to a rehersal dinner for one of my best friend's. We all had a really goodtime. The first part of the night everybody had to be at the place where the wedding was. It's not really a church, more like a hall, and we went through all the bullshit that you do at a rehersal.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend is Korean. Nothing was really different, because they're Catholic, but it was just boring. His brother and bestman was late, because he was coming from Virginia, and there was a storm up and down the east coast and tornado warnings. They always say that shit but it's basically strong-mother-fucking-winds. Anyway, the chick I was supposed to be walking down with, wasn't in the right spot and ended up with someone else. The chick I had to practice with was fucking BUSTED!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pissed because I thought I had to walk with her everywhere. This chick breaks cameras, and I didn't need to get pictures with her. I'm not being an asshole about it, she was really that butt-ugly. I didn't have to walk with her in the wedding though. That was a fucking relief. The girl I had to walk with wasn't that much of a 'sight for sore eyes', if you know what I mean. The practice shit went well and we all were ready for dinner. We're all big fans of Ruths Chris for some reason. My friends and I go there for our birthdays before we go out. If it's your birthday that we're going for, you don't have to pay. Usually ends up being a great time.......... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was really good, and they had a nice choice of entree's for us to choose from. We had wine, and pretty much just chilled and joked around with each other. The groom got up and gave a pretty good speech to his family, his girl, and also to all his friends. It ended up being a good time. Then somebody had the bright idea to go out to a little bar around the corner from his house. I wasn't driving so I said "fuck it" and went with them. His cousins were in town from St Louis and we got pretty fucking wasted. His brothers wife doesn't really drink that often and got hammered on a bunch of baybreezes. Shit tastes like fruit punch and she was sucking them down like it was. I went for the strongest stuff on the shelf. I to, got wasted, but I wasn't in the bathroom throwing up. I was hitting on the hot bartender with the fake titties. She started it actually, I just went along for the ride. She ended up buying me a couple shots. So I ended up even more wasted...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're on the way back to his house and he starts talking to us on how he wants to get a tattoo. Something to do with his girl. What an idiot. He kept saying how he wanted one of us to get a tattoo with him. Me, being the drunk that I was, decided it was a good idea to get one with him. Now I'm the idiot. I wanted to get something on my back. I was so drunk that my dumbass decided I wanted him to pick out something for me. I guess everything went as planned because I woke up the next day and my back was sore as shit. I'm not relly sure what it is at that point. So I went into the bathroom to look in the mirror. I had to see what the fuck was on my back.......... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/gat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/gat.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to kill each and everyone of those mother-fucking-assholes. This shit is NOT fucking funny...............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogger is being a bitch again. I don't know what the fuck is going on with the pictures but they aren't showing up. I think it's pretty funny sometimes, because when you click the picture, it pops out at you. The last few things have been pretty crazy pictures but whatever............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116416046443890703?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116416046443890703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116416046443890703' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116416046443890703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116416046443890703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/11/drunken-tattoo.html' title='Drunken tattoo.............'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116370455694237545</id><published>2006-11-16T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T11:15:56.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pinky_nip doing a balancing act on Stallion!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/vvveeee.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/vvveeee.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, you can't see it until you click the link, fucking blogger...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116370455694237545?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116370455694237545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116370455694237545' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116370455694237545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116370455694237545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/11/pinkynip-doing-balancing-act-on.html' title='Pinky_nip doing a balancing act on Stallion!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116355568510591104</id><published>2006-11-14T20:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T18:17:58.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Very Disturbing Picture.........</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/farleyyy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/farleyyy.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you can't see the picture. I kind of didn't want to keep it up here at all times. It isn't something you want to see everytime you come here. If you click the picture though, you should be able to see who it is. It's very disturbing. I've always liked this comedian though. It's a shame he let go of himself. Tommy Boy was one of my favorite movies. Everytime I watch it, I end up laughing even harder. I thought he was really good on SNL also. Back when it used to be funny. Not a big fan anymore. Can't really get into the new characters, plus, believe it or not, I'm not usually home on a Saturday night.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how good you would have to be at fixing photos to make this one, so I'm not quite sure if it is in fact real. Let me know what you think. It looks real as shit to me though. But what the hell do I know? According to Ninga, I'm a fucking ideot, you know, 'Sofa King'..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Did I mentchon I agree with Ninga?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116355568510591104?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116355568510591104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116355568510591104' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116355568510591104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116355568510591104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/11/very-disturbing-picture.html' title='Very Disturbing Picture.........'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116312644744147144</id><published>2006-11-09T21:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T18:49:57.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The perfect woman?</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine sent me this picture of a girl in Italia. She is soooo damn sexy. I tend to go after brunettes. I love me some sexy, tan, dark haired women just like this one. Of course I've never met her, but I'm sure she's not an idiot. And even if she was, I'm no Albret Einstien!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to say she's perfect. There is just something about her. The sad part is, there are tons of beautiful woman like this in Italia. I've never seen more in one place before in my life. I love it over there. One day I'm going to pick up and roll the fuck out of here. I'm heading over there for a couple years. Just to do it. Maybe I'll find me one like this.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Italy%5B1%5D%20%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/Italy%5B1%5D%20%282%29.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So do you agree with me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, she is just fucking smoking. I smoke, we could smoke together. That shit would be great. Ok, that shit was lame....Anyway, I got another picture from a different friend. It came in an e-mail that said "The perfect woman". As you can see I think it's this Italian chick that I've never even met. Like I said before, there is just something about her. But then I saw the picture that he sent me. It took me a minute because I said "what the fuck". Once I thought about it, Hey, thats not that bad............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/PerfWoman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/PerfWoman.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been awhile since I could actually post without a problem. My friend stopped by and fixed it. I still think I would go for the Italian girl but you guys pick.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies, I've seen your lesbian talk on almost every thread. I know you will help pick also. As for all this lesbian talk that's going on. Keep up the good work........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S I know I spelled Albert Einstein wrong in the post. I figured you would laugh at that and call me a dumb-deago-wop, because I know I mispell a lot of shit..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.S If the dumb-deago-wop thing is what you thought, in the famous words of my Uncle Guseppie, "Go fuck yourself!!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116312644744147144?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116312644744147144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116312644744147144' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116312644744147144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116312644744147144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/11/perfect-woman.html' title='The perfect woman?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116303433040255635</id><published>2006-11-08T19:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T17:12:54.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you vote?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/aa.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/aa.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't vote, don't fucking care. I think this guy takes voting a little to fucking serious though. Seriously, what the fuck is going on in this picture? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still having problems with my wireless card. Shit's fucking driving me crazy. Barely had time to post this. Not that anyone really gives a fuck anyway............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116303433040255635?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116303433040255635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116303433040255635' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116303433040255635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116303433040255635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/11/did-you-vote.html' title='Did you vote?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116287004446368960</id><published>2006-11-06T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T19:28:30.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't know what the fuck is going on?</title><content type='html'>I am having technical difficulties with my internet access at home. Been busy at work and haven't had time to do shit lately. My bad, I'll have something up as soon as I can. Don't give up on me!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Blogger fucking sucks, that is all...............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116287004446368960?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116287004446368960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116287004446368960' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116287004446368960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116287004446368960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/11/dont-know-what-fuck-is-going-on.html' title='Don&apos;t know what the fuck is going on?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116234808643819249</id><published>2006-10-31T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T18:32:11.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It all has to do with a fucking ski-mask!!!</title><content type='html'>The other day my sister and I were talking and she said something about ski-masks. She was asking me "Why don't you ever see people skiing with them? How come you only see bank robbers with them on? Or people robbing someone? Shouldn't they be called "robber-masks"......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her she sounded like Seinfeld or something. "What's the deal with ski-masks...." and so on. We laughed for a moment, pretty funny shit at the time. Then tonight some fucking little brat comes up in just a ski-mask as his costume asking for candy. These kid's in Bodymore get lazier and lazier each Halloween....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was going to start taking pictures of these little fuckers to put up here, but figured taking pictures of little kids on Halloween, not such a good idea!!! So I decided to Google Image a picture of a kid in a ski-mask and just write a story on that. I happened to stumble across some dumbass looking motherfuckers on a ski trip.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the picture of the ski-mask that I clicked on and took me to a bunch of other stupid pictures.....&lt;br /&gt;Kind of reminds me of Chewie from Star Wars........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Ski%20mask.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/Ski%20mask.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this motherfucker wants us all to know he has balls or something. I'd give 100 dollars to meet this dude, just to kick him in his balls........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Balls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/Balls.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think they caught this dude drinking out of the toilet. He looks pretty scared. Either that or the dude with balls is on his way in to punish him analy.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Hobo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/Hobo.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is either a sick attempt at "Gay Ballet", or they need to figure out a better way to finger-fuck each other. Maybe Guy-pierre could give them some tips, or Cambel could give them some of his soup..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Free%20Torgie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/Free%20Torgie.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dumbass held a bong hit in a little to long. I wish they had the picture where his head explodes everywhere, but they didn't.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Weird%20Jackson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/Weird%20Jackson.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of funny how you stumble on shit like this on the iternet. I saw that kid with the ski-mask, remembered a stupid ski-mask conversation with Cruising, and then found these dumbass people looking for a picture of someone in a ski-mask. It all had to do with a fucking ski-mask. Oh, and the fact that I'm high and thought there was a point to all this.............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116234808643819249?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116234808643819249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116234808643819249' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116234808643819249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116234808643819249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/it-all-has-to-do-with-fucking-ski-mask.html' title='It all has to do with a fucking ski-mask!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116192225965247127</id><published>2006-10-26T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T21:59:14.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Party!!!!!!!!!!1</title><content type='html'>So I had a halloween party, you may not remember, but you were there.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cock Ninja showed up, he didn't really dress up which kind of pissed me off, but he sure as hell got along with that sheep. Last I heard they left for Mexico to get married..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Sheepguy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/Sheepguy.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ferret stopped by as a bunny, I guess it's nice to pretend you're not angry for a change..it didn't work, he was still pissed..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/146921536_94a7605673_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/146921536_94a7605673_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came as Elvis. Everytime I did something stupid around one of my friends, he would say "You're the king Stallion". So I figured he was just giving me a hint on what to be this halloween...turns out he was calling me a dumbass........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/elvis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/320/elvis.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tranny and Zanna stopped by with some people from the Taint. Always giving a good laugh to everyone. Zanna as usual on her back, and Tranny looks like a born again christian or something.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/BestHalloweenCostumeEver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/320/BestHalloweenCostumeEver.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anastasia decided to come as Wonderwoman. It was a great idea and all, but I don't think this chick is fighting any crimes yet. I do have a feeling that she will be fighting them in a courtroom one day. It will probably be over the last donut in the break room.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/WonderWoman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/320/WonderWoman.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few other ladies came in a group. There was Pinky_nip, Krisdylee aka Ladyjane, Apacherose,Dmarie, and Instantasshat. What a lovely crew that was. Later they all got out of the costumes and took me to hell and back if you know what I mean....All these women grabbing at me at one time was great and all, but my dick hurt like a motherfucker afterwards........  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/RetiredHooters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/320/RetiredHooters.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walrus Goombah stopped by to fight the war against blogger. He was pretty pissed.....later he got drunk and was seen hitting on Wonderwoman....????????  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Spiderman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/320/Spiderman.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks all for stopping by, and I apologize if I missed anyone...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CrusingForCock wouldn't let me put the picture of her up as a witch, it was probably the worst and funniest picture of her ever. She said if I put it up she wouldn't talk to me anymore. Couldn't do it...............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116192225965247127?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116192225965247127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116192225965247127' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116192225965247127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116192225965247127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/halloween-party1.html' title='Halloween Party!!!!!!!!!!1'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116183373519465168</id><published>2006-10-25T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T21:20:05.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pointless Family Photo!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/pointless_family_picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/pointless_family_picture.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has to be the biggest waste of film in the world!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is up with these crazy fuckers? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the point of this picture? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did understand why your religion would make the women cover up. I love to look at women. I guess I could understand if all the women in your country looked like Roseanne Barr or Anna Nicole, but who knows how many undiscovered hotties are under these fucking sheets?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is the idiot that decided that they need to be covered at all times? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm guessing we will never know what the deal is, but now that I think about it, I really don't give a fuck. I can imagine what these chicks smell like on a hot summer day. I'm guessing like asshole!! Not to mention they're probably as fucking hairy as a sixties porn star under that shit. I'm going to throw up now............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116183373519465168?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116183373519465168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116183373519465168' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116183373519465168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116183373519465168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/pointless-family-photo.html' title='Pointless Family Photo!!!!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116174147226173547</id><published>2006-10-24T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T19:05:49.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heres the five most expensive addictions, what's yours?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/gm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/gm.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alcohol. Estimated annual cost: $166 billion. Binge drinking hits the unemployed harder on a per capita basis -- 10.4%, vs. 8.4% of employed people. It is most prevalent in small metropolitan locales, rather than big cities or rural areas. The $18 billion spent on alcohol and drug treatment last year represented 1.3% of all health care spending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/cig.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/cig.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoking. Estimated annual cost: $157 billion. The tab includes $75 billion in direct medical expenses, with the rest in lost productivity from ill patients missing work. Given the low-tax (or no-tax) underground cigarette economy on the Web and on Indian reservations, it's unlikely that sales and usage have dropped much over the past decade, official government statistics notwithstanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/smoking%20crack.8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/smoking%20crack.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drugs. Estimated annual cost: $110 billion. Like alcohol, illicit drug use is more prevalent among the unemployed. Most addicts are also heavy drinkers, though only a small minority of alcoholics are drug abusers. Crystal meth has followed marijuana, cocaine and heroin as the drug of choice among the young set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/kk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/kk.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overeating. Estimated annual cost: $107 billion. Overeating increases the risk of many health problems, including heart attacks. Obesity causes 14% of attacks suffered by males and 20% of those suffered by females, the National Institutes for Health says, and fewer than a third of adults get regular exercise. The bulk of the $107 billion is the direct cost to treat heart disease, osteoarthritis, hypertension, gall bladder disease and cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/poker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/poker.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gambling. Estimated annual cost: $40 billion. Addicted gamblers often feel compelled to chase after bad bets with more money in the hope of winning back their losses. And some who catch the fever develop the need to periodically raise the betting stakes to keep the same thrill. Also, addicts often face job loss, bankruptcy and forced home sales, and they are at greater risk to commit crimes like forgery and embezzlement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know which ones I'm addicted to, which ones are you addicted to? I like to smoke pot every once in awhile. I like gambling, not to the point were I would lose all my money, but I like playing poker with friends and trips to Vegas or Atlantic City for fun. I used to like drinking a lot, but now I try to stay away from it. Can't drink like I used to, plus I'm not bar tending anymore so it's easier to stay away. I'm sorry to say that I smoke, haven't been able to kick the nasty habit. I think the only one I can say that I'm not addicted to is food. Don't get me wrong I can eat like a mother fucker, I love Italian food of course and others, just have a metabolism like a rabbit that fucks every five minutes. Everyone say's it will catch up to me by thirty, but I say catch me if you can fat asses, it isn't happening!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anastasia, I think we all know Tea is on your list, and Stallion is on Pinky_nip's list....What is on everyone elses list? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Don't put sex, that's to fucking easy, plus it should be on all are lists without saying...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116174147226173547?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116174147226173547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116174147226173547' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116174147226173547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116174147226173547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/heres-five-most-expensive-addictions.html' title='Heres the five most expensive addictions, what&apos;s yours?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116156938096683031</id><published>2006-10-22T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T19:09:40.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Curse you Grand Mariner, curse you..........</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/tn.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/tn.2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went to D.C. last night to this club called Fur. I really didn't &lt;br /&gt;want &lt;br /&gt;to go, but one of my friends needed a "wing man". I was pretty bored &lt;br /&gt;the &lt;br /&gt;whole time and started drinking the Grand Mariner. Bad idea! I drank a &lt;br /&gt;little to much of it. I'm walking through the crowd and I see a &lt;br /&gt;really hot girl that I was attracted to. When she was passing by me, I &lt;br /&gt;said &lt;br /&gt;to my friend, now she's beautiful. I said it loud enough for her to &lt;br /&gt;hear me &lt;br /&gt;and she turned around and smiled. Not the best pick up move, but it &lt;br /&gt;worked &lt;br /&gt;because she turned around and came back. It was loud as fuck in there &lt;br /&gt;and I &lt;br /&gt;really didn't hear what she was saying at first. I was talking and &lt;br /&gt;dancing &lt;br /&gt;with her for awhile, but then for some dumb reason I walked away to &lt;br /&gt;look &lt;br /&gt;for my friend. I don't even know why, but I didn't say I'll be back or &lt;br /&gt;something along those lines. When I did come back she wasn't in the &lt;br /&gt;same &lt;br /&gt;spot and I couldn't find her. It was a pretty big club. I'm such a &lt;br /&gt;dumbass!!!! Fuck!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that was Saturday night, Sunday I went to a bull roast for my buddies brother. He was in an motorcycle accident and is in a wheelchair now. Sucks huh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I met this model looking Armanian* chick. I don't even know what that means, LOL......I could tell that she was attracted to me because she kept fucking with me. She didn't mean to, but I set my beer down on a table outside and she came over and put her cigerette out in my beer. Out of all the fucking cups, she picks mine. So I bitched at her a little. It was a goodtime and a lot of flirting. I don't know if I could date her, but I'll definately be hitting it shortly...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of the story is, I would have liked to talk to the first hottie, but Grand Mariner fucked that up. Hopefully this chick makes up for it...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curse you Grand Mariner, curse you!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116156938096683031?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116156938096683031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116156938096683031' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116156938096683031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116156938096683031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/curse-you-grand-mariner-curse-you.html' title='Curse you Grand Mariner, curse you..........'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116126766413135173</id><published>2006-10-19T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T07:23:09.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Korean store in the Beaverhood..............</title><content type='html'>I was in Anastasia's Beaverhood and decided to stop by this Korean store she is always raving about for something to eat. Of course as I'm looking around, the Korean lady starts trying to sell me those damn eggs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want carton of eggs? Very good price!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I'm cool!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"2 for 1. C’mon! You like a eggs?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look chank, I don't want eggs!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You buy eggs now, I get them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I DON'T WANT ANY MOTHERFUCKING EGGS SLANT EYE, IF YOU ASK ME AGAIN, I'M GONNA SHOVE THAT CARTON UP YOUR ASS!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, I no ask no more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good, but I'll tell you what the fuck I would like. You got any hot dogs? You know like big bites?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, you want hot dog? You go to back of store, open door, my daughter make you hot dog."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I proceeded to the back of the store, where the door was located. I'm so fucking hungry, and can't wait to get me a hot dog. As I open the door I look in the room. I was disgusted by what I saw!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/nasty.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/nasty.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never told that bitch up front that I wanted mine cleaned, and Guy beat her to it anyway!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116126766413135173?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116126766413135173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116126766413135173' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116126766413135173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116126766413135173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/korean-store-in-beaverhood.html' title='Korean store in the Beaverhood..............'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116113451308962891</id><published>2006-10-17T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T13:02:36.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better illegal alien laws?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/sotp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/sotp.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture above is just proof that we need better ways of stopping illegal aliens from coming to this country. I'm all for them cooking some bomb ass food in a Mexican restuarant, or doing the dishes. But fuck the fact that they're out there doing this kind of work. Although, the only people that wouldn't actually stop, would be some illiterate fuck who needs to be drug out in the street and shot anyway.&lt;br /&gt;So I guess either way somebody wins. If you are illiterate, you probably can't read this post, so ha. But if you can make out some of it, maybe you should write the nice folks on this billboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/funny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/funny.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. I had nothing creative in my head tonight, which is no difference from any other night, but whatever. I tried to atleast do something, and this is all I came up with. Plus there is playoff baseball on, and lately that's the only baseball I like to watch. If you have anything bad to say about all this, my grandmother and her friends have something for you!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/finger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/finger.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later fuckers............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116113451308962891?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116113451308962891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116113451308962891' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116113451308962891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116113451308962891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/better-illegal-alien-laws.html' title='Better illegal alien laws?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116105650505759240</id><published>2006-10-16T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T20:44:21.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody should have a Stallion!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/1009061156%5B1%5D%20%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/1009061156%5B1%5D%20%282%29.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was walking through Office Depot the other day to grab some cool construction paper to put my flyers on. I get the colored paper because it stands out a little more then just plain old white. I put stupid shit on it as a marketing tool. Like why you should refinance your mortgage and shit like that. Then I take them out and put them on peoples mailboxes or doors. Yeah, I'm one of those assholes, but it's a good way to get leads and I rather be outside on a nice day marketing myself then sitting in the office waiting for calls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I pass by this chair and just started busting out laughing. It was a leather office chair called "The Stallion". Could it get any better then this? I figured I had to take a picture and share it with all of you. Plus it was just to fucking cool, considering my stupid Alias is "Italian Stallion". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all the ladies, I already contacted the manufacturer and had a special feature added just for you. A nice ten inch vibrating dildo(shut your cocksucker Guy-Pierre) that attaches to the seat. I figure if it's going to be called "The Stallion" it sure as hell better be close to the real thing. Now you can enjoy work with a ride on "The Stallion" and then after work, you can meet me out for a ride on the Stallion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ladies, go out now and get your Stallion for only $399 while supplies last. The real thing cost $1000 dollars an hour. But lets just say the real one is where it's at and well worth the cash. For a short time only I'm throwing in a "Buy two rides, get one free while Levitra supplies last"..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batteries not included&lt;br /&gt;Detachable dildo is an exact 10 inch replica&lt;br /&gt;Cognac brown will not get you drunk&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116105650505759240?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116105650505759240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116105650505759240' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116105650505759240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116105650505759240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/everybody-should-have-stallion.html' title='Everybody should have a Stallion!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116071222020252169</id><published>2006-10-12T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T21:04:58.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/kkklllo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/kkklllo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Pinky_nip!!!! I rolled this for you but had to take a few puffs before I sent it. I know i'm a greedy bastard, sorry............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116071222020252169?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116071222020252169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116071222020252169' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116071222020252169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116071222020252169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/happy-birthday-beautiful.html' title='Happy Birthday beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116061812401423135</id><published>2006-10-11T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T18:55:24.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you ever lost your key's in a weird spot?</title><content type='html'>I can't tell you how many times I've lost my key's somewhere. Either because I was out drinking and left them somewhere, or I was high and couldn't remember where I had them last. Sometimes I was to drunk to drive and took a cab only to lose them in the backseat and didn't realize it until I would get up to the door. What about the times when they are right in front of your face, in the exact spot that you left them, and you still don't fucking see them. It can be very fucking frustrating. I am however happy to say that I have never lost them where Artie from the Howard Stern show lost his.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/artie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/artie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116061812401423135?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116061812401423135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116061812401423135' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116061812401423135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116061812401423135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/have-you-ever-lost-your-keys-in-weird.html' title='Have you ever lost your key&apos;s in a weird spot?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116059051057854647</id><published>2006-10-11T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T11:15:57.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BROKEBACK FOOTBALL!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/brokeback%20football.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/brokeback%20football.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about everybody else, but I love football. I go to as many games a year as I can. It's nice this year to have a team that is doing well. Although, the Ravens did lose to the Broncos last Monday (Fuck You Tranny), I still think we have a good team. I am however glad that we don't have players that put out messages like this on national tv.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116059051057854647?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116059051057854647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116059051057854647' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116059051057854647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116059051057854647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/brokeback-football.html' title='BROKEBACK FOOTBALL!!!!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116053437789472716</id><published>2006-10-10T22:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T20:17:13.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ronald McDonald Gets Busted!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/mcdonald.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/mcdonald.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The news that Ronald McDonald was arrested for smoking crack in a public park hit yesterday, and when I heard it, I didn't want to believe it. I grew up with this stupid icon in my face all the time. I remember going to McDonald's for birthday parties as a little kid. Thinking about chicken nuggets with french fries, or a nice cheeseburger. The best part was reaching in the "happy meal box" to get out your new toy and trying to collect all the different ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started to think back on all the times I met him at these parties or other events. All the times I sat on his lap or took pictures with this clown. I don't remember him ever looking that high to me, and why the hell didn't he put that shit in my happy meal? Take a look at my profile, thats the kind of shit I like! I would have loved to smoke a fat joint with this clown. He was reported to be hanging out with the "Taco Bell" dog recently. It is also reported that they were spotted doing drugs together. I ask, where are the pictures? Then somebody made a call in to the F.B.I, that Ronald was in Central Park laying on his back smoking a crack pipe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just so happens that it was the dog from the "Taco Bell" commercials that called in. Recently they discovered that he has been hooked on smack, and the "Taco Bell" establishments have been losing money because of "McDonalds", and they were about to go bankrupt. It turns out the Taco Bell dog was setting up Ronald. They had a stash that they bought together and the Taco Bell dog was trying to keep it all to himself. I can't believe Ronald left him home by himself with said stash. I mean, think about it. Would you trust this dog? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/dog.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure as hell don't. Let this be a lesson Ronald!! You can't trust a Mexican dog hooked on heroin, and say no to Taco Bell!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116053437789472716?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116053437789472716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116053437789472716' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116053437789472716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116053437789472716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/ronald-mcdonald-gets-busted.html' title='Ronald McDonald Gets Busted!!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116025165432303562</id><published>2006-10-07T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T13:14:25.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The bitch got me, and she got me good!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/italia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/italia.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a sticker I have on the back of my car. It says Italia at the bottom, which you can't really see, just take my word for it, LOL.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm driving along in my Volkswagon the other day, and can't understand why people are pulling up next to me and laughing or honking the horn when they go by. When I pull up in my driveway, I don't tend to see the back of my car. Another day goes by, and I get the same reaction from passer byers. What the fuck is going on? I can't believe I didn't stop the car and look at the back of my car, but I didn't. Why would I? I just didn't put two and two together. Finally someone at work is laughing their ass of when they come in. He asks me why I would put a sticker like that on my car? I say "whats wrong with my Italia sticker fucker"? He says "I'm not talking about that one." So I run outside to see what the fuck he is talking about. My fucking sister made a sticker that says "small penis on board" and put it on my car two day's ago...............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bitch got me, and she got me good!!!! Fuck you CruisingForCock ( her screen name on The Superficial ), Fuck you.........LOL &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/small.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116025165432303562?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116025165432303562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116025165432303562' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116025165432303562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116025165432303562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/bitch-got-me-and-she-got-me-good.html' title='The bitch got me, and she got me good!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-116001739806648077</id><published>2006-10-04T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T20:05:15.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please "God", give me a sign!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I'm not really a church going kind of guy. I did however grow up Catholic, and went to a Catholic school all my life. I have been down on my luck lately and decided to give it a try again. I know that sounds horrible, but I'm kinda running out of options. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decided to give it one more shot. I went into my old church and prayed for a little while. This all may sound selfish, but fuck it here goes. I asked "God" why things have been so shitty lately. In the past few years, I've lost some of the most important people in my life, almost died in a car accident, and have been trying to figure out my life all together. I asked him why all this has occured. Then I figured while I'm at it why not ask for some material things also. I said, please let me be the next to win some kind of big lottery. Not the ones that I get at my e-mail addresses that say I just hit the big lotto in England, and all I have to do is send my bank info so they can transfer money. I mean come on, I'm not that stupid, am I? I'm talking about the 350 million powerball you always hear about. Shit, I would even be happy with a big slot machine for 200 thousand or something. I continued to tell him that now that I think about it, I don't have it as bad as some people in the world. That I was sorry for being such an ass, but if he could make some of that shit happen for me, I would make sure to fix something for someone less fortunate. Please "God", if there is a probability of you helping me out, give me some kind of sign. Anything, just so I know you heard my prayers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked outside the church and looked up in the sky. He gave me a sign alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/nature.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/nature.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-116001739806648077?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/116001739806648077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=116001739806648077' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116001739806648077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/116001739806648077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/please-god-give-me-sign.html' title='Please &quot;God&quot;, give me a sign!!!!!'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-115992259399464380</id><published>2006-10-03T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T18:00:08.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who drives better, dogs or Asians?</title><content type='html'>I was driving to Petsmart the other day to pick up a new collar for Cobain. Cobain is my half Black Lab and half Pit Bull puppy. Well, he's almost two now, but I still think of him as a puppy. He is a strong little motherfucker, and sometimes it scares me. I just don't like the possesive part of him, but he's a great dog otherwise. I'm getting ready to pull in a parking spot when a car comes out of no where and cuts me off to take the spot. I'm thinking to myself *this must be a fucking chank driving like that* and pull up next to the car for some good old fashioned "road rage". Turns out it wasn't an Asian as I expected. It was this motherfucker right here.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/dog%20driving.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/dog%20driving.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rolls down the window, and asks me "What the fuck do you want? I saw the spot bitch and I took it!" &lt;br /&gt;I responded in surprise considering who it was with "Look motherfucker, I don't know who you're calling a bitch I'll fucking pull a Clark Grizwald on you and tie you to the bumper!! Yeah, you remember that shit, thats right, so I suggest you apologize and pull the fuck out of my parking spot!!!"&lt;br /&gt;After hearing this he wimpered a little, put the car in reverse, and proceeded to parallel park in a different spot. I couldn't believe my eyes. He parked that shit better then Jesus himself. Never did I think a dog could park a fucking car more or less drive the shit. Let's just say I was shocked. As he got out of the car I went to apologize because he was obviously a better driver then me. That spot was fucking tight as shit, and he pulled into it first try. As I was walking up to the mini-van  the door opens and he takes off into the Petsmart. All I could hear were muffled sounds that sounded like "Kibbles N Bits, Kibbles N Bits, Kibbles N Bits...."&lt;br /&gt;I never got a chance to see the little bastard again, nor did I get to tell him how amazing he was. I always seem to miss these chances in life. Wow, he was a great driver!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I'm leaving, (yes I got the collar) I pulled out of the parking lot and another car almost fucking hits me. These people must be drunk, swerving all over the road. I can't believe my luck today. Almost two accidents in a matter of a half an hour. I try to catch up with these fuckers, but didn't want to be an asshole on the road too. I noticed the light up ahead was red and figured this would be a perfect time to yell at these assholes. Did they stop for the red light, no, of course not. Man these people are either on a death wish or really really wasted. Next thing you know, CRASH!!!!! Right into a big semi-truck. When I got up to the accident scene, I was looking to make sure everyone was ok. Everyone got out of this accident without a scratch, thank god. Turns out they were not wishing death, nor were they really really wasted. They were fucking Oriental!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/chanks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/chanks.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judging from this story, I'll leave it up for you to decide which one drives better. But I'm gonna have to say it was the dog. Did I mention I was really high while all this was going on? Because I was...................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-115992259399464380?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/115992259399464380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=115992259399464380' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115992259399464380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115992259399464380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/who-drives-better-dogs-or-asians.html' title='Who drives better, dogs or Asians?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-115992629130286816</id><published>2006-10-03T18:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T19:23:13.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tranny's a Minghia</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 182px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="160" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/320/bella%20napoli.jpg" width="203" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the other day Tranny Granny asked me if I was from Napoli? I in fact am not, my mother is full blood Italian, and came over from Napoli to the States with my dad when she was 18. I still have her whole family over there and visit as many times as I can. I think I've been there around 7 times since I was little. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One thing&lt;em&gt; I did learn is that we don't like Sicilians!!!! I however think "questo stronzo" is a really cool motherfucker. I was also asked if I speak fluently, and I do not. When I am in Italy and I hear the language constantly I remember a lot more then when I'm here in Maryland. I can however understand all of it and get around the country if needed on my own. The last time I was there, my cugino Davide (da-vi-deh) taught me the word minghia. (mink-ya) It means dickhead in the worst possible way. This is what we call Sicilians. It is like calling a black person the N-word. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The picture above is of my tattoo. It is the only one I have and means a lot to me. If you can't read it, it says "Bella Napoli" which translated obviously means beautiful Naples. I drew it myself and had it drawn better by a tattoo artist because i'm not an artist and my version looked like shit. The flag pole comes directly out of where Napoli is in Italia. I did however have to add Sicily in the drawing but decided it was not worthy of shading in. If i was going to have something on my body for the rest of my life, it was going to be something that means a lot to me. If anyone has anything shitty to say about it, let me get this out of the way now. You my friend are a "teste di cazzo". Another form of the word dickhead, just not as bad as my favorite and much more meaningful minghia. Ciao!!!!!!!!!!!! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-115992629130286816?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/115992629130286816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=115992629130286816' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115992629130286816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115992629130286816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/trannys-minghia.html' title='Tranny&apos;s a Minghia'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-115985438002889285</id><published>2006-10-03T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T22:49:19.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF</title><content type='html'>So, anyway, I'm standing in line to buy you a freakin' birthday card and the line is like seventeen billion people long 'cause the only thing the dumb teenage boy at the register is thinking about is the dumb teenage girl at the other register, and some dumb lady is turning her purse inside out to come up with "exact change" like she's going to win some "exact change trophy" or something, and some idiot starts up with his "this item was marked with the sale price" crap, and I just really hope you like this card............   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/tn.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/tn.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just sat here and wrote an hours worth of shit with pictures and everything and hit a fucking wrong button and deleted it all. What the fuck, curse you fucking blogger, curse you. I'll have it up later on Tuesday, it's fucking 1:30 and Stallion is sleepy. I don't know how ya'll do it, because I'm really fucking pissed off right now. I will however leave you with this card my sister gave me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-115985438002889285?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/115985438002889285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=115985438002889285' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115985438002889285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115985438002889285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/10/wtf.html' title='WTF'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-115958101551729183</id><published>2006-09-30T03:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T19:27:32.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not everything stay's in  Vegas, does it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/hotel%20window%20shot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/400/hotel%20window%20shot.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I was in Las Vegas, I was with a bunch of friends. We were all out on the town, checking out the Casino's and shit. We saw someone on the street with a brown paper bag with a forty in it. We were pretty much all ready toasted when I got the big idea of brown bagging it ourselves. You can't walk around Baltimore like that, and I figured it would be cool to say we did it there. I was 21 mind you. Anyway, we see this bum at the store who is begging for change. We gave him a couple bucks because he told us that he just wanted to get a beer himself. I figured the fucker was being honest, so why not? Then we decided to ask him if he would take a picture of us, all holding our forties in said bags. So he said "sure" and did so. Then we told him to get in the picture, and he did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I thought, why not ask him to get us some weed? We couldn't bring any with us, and wanted to smoke a J or whatever. He say's "no problem, just give me twenty and walk with me". My dumbass gives him twenty and proceeds to walk down the street with him. Everyone else started heading in the other direction, and I told them I would catch up with them. So we start walking down some fucking dirty ass street, and I'm thinking not such a good idea anymore. He tells me "wait just a minute" and walks up to a passing car. He's talking to the people in the car for a minute and then jumps in and the car peels off. I think to myself how stupid I am, and went to find my friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So later that night, we took a picture of everyone on these steps outside some Casino. I was on the bottom step and everyone was above me. They held a twenty dolllar bill over my head as they all pointed and laughed. Somehow I became the twenty dollar butthead of their joke. Also, I have a picture of the eye's and teeth of the guy who stole the money. You thought this story was going to be dirty because of the title, didn't you? See not everything has to stay in Vegas, but my twenty dollars did!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;This picture is from the hotel window of the Hard Rock the last time I was there, 2 weeks ago. They didn't have this technology when I was 21, LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-115958101551729183?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/115958101551729183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=115958101551729183' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115958101551729183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115958101551729183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/09/not-everything-stays-in-vegas-does-it.html' title='Not everything stay&apos;s in  Vegas, does it?'/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-115948361402212725</id><published>2006-09-28T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T15:46:54.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/suck%20toe%204%20money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/320/suck%20toe%204%20money.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever suck a good toe?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-115948361402212725?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/115948361402212725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=115948361402212725' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115948361402212725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115948361402212725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/09/ever-suck-good-toe.html' title=''/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34710708.post-115870995134074881</id><published>2006-09-19T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T21:33:33.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/1600/Homo.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1719/3830/320/Homo.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34710708-115870995134074881?l=originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/feeds/115870995134074881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34710708&amp;postID=115870995134074881' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115870995134074881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34710708/posts/default/115870995134074881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://originalitalianstallion.blogspot.com/2006/09/hello.html' title=''/><author><name>Italian Stallion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01722251845806776001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1719/3830/320/308446/Stallion.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
