Nailed It! Linda’s O.P. Nails, 126 Center St., Manchester CT, 860-646-7888

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Nail designs by Linda’s O.P. Nails!

136 Center St.

Manchester, CT

860-646-7888

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Power to the Piehole

I’d rather be a ponderer than a panderer.

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If I ever got divorced and started dating again I’d do things with men I never did with my husband. I would definitely try to talk less while watching movies.

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Stilladicktomy: the procedure you periodically have done to maintain long-term matrimony. #MarriageFatigue

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It’s interesting that the only one of Trump’s cabinet nominees that’s probably going down will be a woman. #DeVosSucks

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Just because I don’t cut and paste your Facebook status as you have requested does not mean I don’t care about you or your status. It means I had my fill of cutting and pasting by the end of third grade. And I never ate paste, ever. But I did hang with glue sniffers.

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Melania! Blink twice if Donald made you pee on him on the first date.

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When people ask me, “How can Kellyanne Conway sleep at night?”, I say, “It doesn’t look like she does.” #IDon’tSleepEither&ILookBetterThanSheDoesAndTellFarFewerAlternativeFacts

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Him: I want to stop arguing.

Her: [flashes boobs]

Him: Is that all you have to say?

Her: It’s what you mostly listen to.

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One of the daughters on TLC’s “Sister Wives” announced she’s gay. The show’s producers are angry because she promised she’d practice polygamy when she married. She just didn’t mention that it would be with other women.  #WivesJustWantToHaveFun

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It’s interesting when a bartender expresses concern for your ability to handle each successive drink, yet keeps making them stronger. #MixedSignals

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Just putting lettuce on someone’s sandwich can make their day, and it literally involves no sweat off my ass.

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I now have this urge to tell young people, whenever Lou Reed’s “Take A Walk On The Wild Side” is playing somewhere in the background, “Hey! This song is about giving head. Listen to the words.”

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I graduated one semester early from college because I couldn’t wait to get out of there, find a job and start contributing to sobriety.

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Sometimes I whisper to Wi-Fi what boys have long said to girls: “Please let me connect. I won’t stay in long.”

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Sniffing the contents of a package labeled “Unscented” has got to be controlled by the same part of the brain that makes you touch a hot plate after the waiter tells you not to.

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Sometimes you have a weird experience that seems like a surreal movie, but upon later reflection, it’s more like a shitty TV pilot that never got picked up.

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By the time I’m a grandmother, I hope to get a handle on this parenting thing.

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Prepareth a Diaper For Mine Enemies

If I could obtain some tiny revenge on the living individuals who’ve hurt me the most…

  • To the nasty boss who did a malicious thing to me while I was in my last semester of college:  I hope her forearms get so hairy, she needs a bush-wacker simply to see on a daily basis.
  • To the nasty comic who did a malicious thing to me once while I was on stage:  I hope her boobs get so large, she needs a complex set of mirrors simply to to see on a daily basis.
  • And to the nimrod supervisor who took credit for my work and made my last office job so difficult:  Take his fucking license away. He’s too stupid to be driving.

I hope one day to perform for these specimens in their nursing homes and make them piss themselves laughing, as opposed to from just plain old incontinence.

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Seminal Sunday Stream

If the majority of history’s greatest writers had been potheads instead of drunks, we’d have far fewer books.

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If Ogden Nash were alive, he’d write: “Trump has won / Clinton didn’t get it done / I will not bicker / Now get me some liquor.”

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Have you noticed whenever someone says, “It’s all love,” there’s usually just been a lot of hate flying around?

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Is it considered hate speech if you only do it behind someone’s back?

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People have a hard time understanding how Donald Trump can continuously make references to how attractive he finds his daughter Ivanka. It’s simple. He’s never seen her without makeup or a blow-out. #ooooh  #meow  #meant2beFunnyNotPolitical

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Regarding Trump…my Cuban friend said, “Hey, at least he won’t be in for life.”

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I almost wrote my husband in as a presidential candidate. He’d do a great job and has a clean record, except for me.

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Aging Process Update: currently researching prices on bedside commodes.

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It’s sad when you hear about washed-up rock stars dying of overdoses, especially when the drug involved is a statin.

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I wonder if dogs ever ask each other, “Does this make my ass smell fat?”

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“Romeostasis”: finding your emotional water level with or without a romantic partner.

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In dating, there’s no gray area. He’s either the man of your dreams, or he puts you to sleep.

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The new employee at the coffee shop attempted to make a heart shape in the foam of my latte, but it came out looking like a very small penis. So she called it an Irish Coffee.


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Saw a picture of the guy who’s gonna be roasted at a comedy show. Already looked baked.

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My thoughts directed at militant cancer survivors who constantly lecture others about unhealthy habits: “So, what was your lifestyle before you got sick? Did you eat poorly? Smoke? Suck a lot of cock? That last one doesn’t matter; I’m just curious.”

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I don’t remember seeing so many moobs (man-boobs) around when I was a child. Then again, my eyes were only at crotch-level.

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This guy said he was great in bed, but I didn’t believe him because he was pretty lousy on his couch.

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I gave a homeless man five bucks, then made him listen to me sing.

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Screw singing, I just found out I’m a phenomenal lip-syncher.

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Bank Trustworthiness Update: I’ve never seen a clock outside a bank that was even remotely accurate.

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Have you ever noticed how people who vehemently defend other people’s right to speak freely….never shut the hell up? #vociferous

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Fun Day At The Orifice: just remember, when the proctologist says, “Hey, asshole!”, don’t take it personally. He’s not talking to you.

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I plan to write to Dos Equis and tell them I have “the most interesting colon in the world.”

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The more I hang around comedians, the more normal musicians seem to me.

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I have a terrible habit of listening to a song I like over and over, resulting in a fierce ear worm. And tit’s not ok, you can’t finger that shit out later.

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Everyone’s getting into personal branding, including the homeless. Guy on the highway off-ramp had a sign that read “Make me your cabana boy TODAY.”

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I did Black Tie Lunchbox on KBJB Internet/Radio. Listen to how witty we all are without (much) liquor

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It’s titillating! Take a listen to my interview HERE—-> Black Tie Lunchbox with J. Timothy Quirk and KJ Johansen, episode 6 with comedian Joanna Rapoza

I encourage you to check out everything on KBJB Internet/Radio and Black Tie Lunchbox for consistently entertaining and informative broadcasts!!

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Joanna Rapoza, KJ Johansen and J. Timothy Quirk in studio in New Milford CT

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Happy with a great interview

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To Fur With Glove: A Tic Tac-Hoohaa Holiday

As if Donald Trump was not already providing enough tragi-comic relief, we’ve all just been treated to the latest leaked audio of him speaking (surprise, surprise) like a spectacularly misogynistic clod.


Read the full story here if you have not yet been titillated.

In the recorded “locker room” discussion he had with journalist Billy Bush, Donald Trump described his inability to resist touching attractive females’ nether regions. 

The common knowledge is that none of those women would have let him grab their hoohaas if they’d seen his tax returns.

Not to pass up an opportunity, Hillary Clinton is now making a concerted effort to reach out to Trump, primarily to determine the best methodology for accessing ladies’ pussies.

In an unexpected twist, several cross-dressers have come forward, admitting that Trump has actually always been an equal–opportunity crotch-grabber.

Because of the timing of the newly revealed audio, pundits and comedians now speculate on the possibility that Donald Trump was once attracted to Hillary Clinton.

Trump’s latest egregious comments occurred when he visited the TV set of a soap opera to make a cameo appearance. One can only wonder what sort of verbiage would be tossed around if he were to do a guest performance with Barnum & Bailey. Most likely, we’d hear some bestiality jokes, but they’d be in reference to the Fat Lady. Trump tends to avoid circus appearances, however, because he resents being confused with the heavier-set clowns. 

Ironically, this latest negative exposure will likely get Donald Trump laid even more than ever. But sadly, it will always be with the wrong type of girl, especially from his wife’s perspective.

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I’m delusional, but it works for me

Dear Aging Celebrities who suddenly open a Facebook account and begin posting refried quotes, old pictures of yourselves, and comments like, “I wonder if anyone remembers who I am”: I wonder if you remember who you are. Or if it’s even you. Do you all have the same publicist? Because I see a lot of boilerplate. I’m glad you only show pictures of yourselves from long ago, because you now appear to have dementia as well as a dirty diaper.

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I’ve been hearing strange noises in the pipes for weeks, and now am convinced my house has a giant tapeworm.

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One day, in this country, parents will encourage their children by saying, “Look, you can be someone like Donald Trump, and still grow up to be the president of the United States of America.”

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I encountered a flirtatious Mormon and thought, “I hope he doesn’t think I’m second wife material.”

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Five stages of grief:

  1. Reagan
  2. Bush 1
  3. Bush 2
  4. Obama
  5. Whoever gets in

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Silver lining for depressives: on days you cry a lot, you don’t have to run for the bathroom as much. #dehydration #CloudsAlsoPee #HaHaHaWe’reAllGonnaDie

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I’m terribly disappointed in the Olympic athletes. During the events, so many of them are out at night, partying and having wild sex. If it were me, I would be back in my dorm room each night, alone, getting high.

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Future geezers, oohing and ahhing over pictures of their transgender grandchildren: “She got her mother’s hips, and her father’s dick.”

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I read that couples who do chores together have better sex lives. What that really means is husbands who help their wives around the house get more blowjobs.

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Since corporations are people, I’m now waiting for the first one to go into psychotherapy. Many of them seem pretty dysfunctional.

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Heard about a Scottish man who died from a germ living inside his bagpipes. This has just ratcheted up Celtic festivals to a new level of excitement.

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Literally and metaphorically, rubbing noses for Eskimos is considered boning.

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A California friend had an unpleasant encounter with a weirdo while hiking. She was wearing all white yoga attire. He was wearing binoculars.

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I’m planning to write a song dedicated to the wheat industry called “Thanks For The Bulkiness.”

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My husband hates it when I burp, but he’s the main reason for my acid reflux.

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I dreamed I met Jesus in the ER and asked Him if He accepted insurance into His heart.

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You know society is in a major transition when black people are shushing old white ladies in movie theaters.

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If you really wanna get picky, everything on the Bristol Stool Form Scale is technically a #2.

 

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