Have you accepted -e- as your personal Lord and Saviour?

Michele has them. Rachel has them. I want them.

No. Not hooters…
Testimonials… and I think they’re cool.

I was on the phone with Kimberly (of Benign Vertigo/Erratic Frog Fame) last week, and we were chuckling over her “Why? Because you’re an √úberdick.” line.

Yes, I thought that was hilarious.
Flaming someone with a certain panache seems like a lost art these days. :0)

I also have Matt Rossi’s classic “Festering Balls of Jesus, we’re all gonna die!” of almost three years ago on MetaFilter.

Anybody want to come up with some fun testimonials for me? I’ll have two or three run randomly with links to you…
I’d do it myself, but in case you haven’t noticed by the lame posts here lately… we’re kind of tapping a burnt-out dry well here.

The funnier, nastier, and more creative the better.
(I have a feeling John is going to have us all pissing our pants in this one.)
Thanks, and have a day!
-e-

12 replies on “Have you accepted -e- as your personal Lord and Saviour?”

  1. my two:

    ‘He has no fashion sense and doesn’t use deodorant. If you want to know someone who wears paisley shirts and who smells like an Elizabethan, E’s your guy.’

    ‘He has a beat and you can dance to him – I give him a 6’

  2. ‘He has a beat and you can dance to him – I give him a 6’

    Huh. Weirdly I was going for something along those lines, but I was going to mention his great costumes too.

  3. I think you stunted the development of anything too funny from me. I mean I am a shy guy and all that *pressure* OK not a lot, but…

    The man responsible for me avoiding the stuffed teddy bear sections of stores.

    E: because on the internet anything more would be hard to spell.

    Putting the sex back into computer peripherals.

    I read e, because, damn! The bastard is probably talking about me!

    The best source for lapdogs needing internet strangers to jump on.

    He knows the best boobie charities.

    He completes me. Otherwise I’d just type “M” and you’d think I was some smug prick making an obscure reference to 1930’s film noir and fear I’d then pontificate about the acting prowess of Peter Lorre till my jaws have been flapping longer than confederate flags over Mississippi.

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Disclaimer: The views expressed herein are solely those of Eric Brooks. They do not necessarily reflect those of his employers, friends, contacts, family, or even his pets (though my cat, Puddy, seems to agree with me on many key issues.). In accordance to my terms of use, you hereby acknowledge my right to psychoanalyze you, practice accupuncture, and mock you incessantly with every visit. As the user, you also acknowledge that the author has been legally declared a "Problem Adult" by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and is therefore not responsible for any of his actions.

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