“ohh dammit! I hate it when you make me exercise after drinking Bloody Marys, Lindsay! That’s the second pair of pants this week..”
See girls, you can be a drug dealer just like the boys!
“Look you cracker ass bitches, just because I’m black don’t mean I sell drugs. Now what do you need?”
“Is that putrid smell coming out of your mama’s coochie?”
“Just turn your head the other way and hope the wind changes”.
It looks like she’s stretching, but Dina is actually looking for one of the logs in the water sharp enough to impale Lindsay on for drinking the last of her Stoli Razz.
So it looks like Lindsay is the one being lowered into the laser-protected coke vault?
One does not merely become an insufferable blight on humanity. It takes a lot of hard work and exercise. And stretching. Lots and lots of stretching.
“Ever been on crack? You can get alot done.”
“Christ, those lobster boats are two miles away and the smell is overpow… oh.”
“no need to look at Lindsay!! Look at meeeee! I STRETCH! I KICK! LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!”
And here I thought it was the nearby sea life.
And this with the FDA seafood inspectors on shutdown-furlough!
“Did a fish truck just show up?”
I suppose it is less conspicuous to carry around water bottles full of gin if you’re dressed like joggers
It looks as though Dina had a pretty decent pair of legs at one time. Kudos to her for that because otherwise she is a useless waste of flesh.
Dina didn’t realize at first just how powerful a seagull’s sense of smell was, but she learned. Oh, yes. She learned.
“My name is Sally O’Malley and I like to kiiiick….and streeeetch….and KICK! I’m 50 years old.”
Is there a term for a hanger-on attached to someone that is unemployable? And that she gave birth to?
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