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Joined: Wed January 02, 2013 12:35 am Posts: 35434
Just got sent a picture of Bourdain in the chipper(fish n chip shop) beside Whelans here in Dublin. I lived out of that place for 5 years while working in Whelans. Wondering now if I ever served him a pint and didn’t know.
Joined: Tue September 24, 2013 5:56 pm Posts: 46895 Location: In the oatmeal aisle wearing a Shellac shirt
durdencommatyler wrote:
Strat wrote:
Why you gotta start shit all the time trag?
Not all the time. Just when I post.
When I was eight years old, I went to visit my grandparents in AZ. I got a pair of leather cowboy boots, and just couldn't wait to wear them to school when I got back home. I thought I'd be a real cowboy in my classmates' eyes.
Instead they all laughed at me, the entire classroom, all at once. During the barrage of laughter, my second-grade teacher said "Well howdy pardner, where's your spurs?" This propelled my classmates into rabid cackling.
All I could do was put my head down on my desk and cry.
Not only did I never wear those boots again, but I truly believe that it was this very moment that prompted me to take a conservative tact with my attire from then on...
Where were you then, Joseph? Where was your empathy for little Trag and his cowboy boots? Think of how much more colorful my life may be had you seen my childhood suffering on Instagram.
Joined: Fri November 15, 2013 6:14 am Posts: 11136
tragabigzanda wrote:
durdencommatyler wrote:
Strat wrote:
Why you gotta start shit all the time trag?
Not all the time. Just when I post.
When I was eight years old, I went to visit my grandparents in AZ. I got a pair of leather cowboy boots, and just couldn't wait to wear them to school when I got back home. I thought I'd be a real cowboy in my classmates' eyes.
Instead they all laughed at me, the entire classroom, all at once. During the barrage of laughter, my second-grade teacher said "Well howdy pardner, where's your spurs?" This propelled my classmates into rabid cackling.
All I could do was put my head down on my desk and cry.
Not only did I never wear those boots again, but I truly believe that it was this very moment that prompted me to take a conservative tact with my attire from then on...
Where were you then, Joseph? Where was your empathy for little Trag and his cowboy boots? Think of how much more colorful my life may be had you seen my childhood suffering on Instagram.
Joined: Tue January 01, 2013 3:35 pm Posts: 32236 Location: Buenos Aires
Kaius wrote:
tragabigzanda wrote:
durdencommatyler wrote:
Strat wrote:
Why you gotta start shit all the time trag?
Not all the time. Just when I post.
When I was eight years old, I went to visit my grandparents in AZ. I got a pair of leather cowboy boots, and just couldn't wait to wear them to school when I got back home. I thought I'd be a real cowboy in my classmates' eyes.
Instead they all laughed at me, the entire classroom, all at once. During the barrage of laughter, my second-grade teacher said "Well howdy pardner, where's your spurs?" This propelled my classmates into rabid cackling.
All I could do was put my head down on my desk and cry.
Not only did I never wear those boots again, but I truly believe that it was this very moment that prompted me to take a conservative tact with my attire from then on...
Where were you then, Joseph? Where was your empathy for little Trag and his cowboy boots? Think of how much more colorful my life may be had you seen my childhood suffering on Instagram.
Heart breaking.
I saw this post minutes after he posted it. Broke my heart.
Joined: Tue September 24, 2013 5:56 pm Posts: 46895 Location: In the oatmeal aisle wearing a Shellac shirt
theplatypus wrote:
Kaius wrote:
tragabigzanda wrote:
durdencommatyler wrote:
Strat wrote:
Why you gotta start shit all the time trag?
Not all the time. Just when I post.
When I was eight years old, I went to visit my grandparents in AZ. I got a pair of leather cowboy boots, and just couldn't wait to wear them to school when I got back home. I thought I'd be a real cowboy in my classmates' eyes.
Instead they all laughed at me, the entire classroom, all at once. During the barrage of laughter, my second-grade teacher said "Well howdy pardner, where's your spurs?" This propelled my classmates into rabid cackling.
All I could do was put my head down on my desk and cry.
Not only did I never wear those boots again, but I truly believe that it was this very moment that prompted me to take a conservative tact with my attire from then on...
Where were you then, Joseph? Where was your empathy for little Trag and his cowboy boots? Think of how much more colorful my life may be had you seen my childhood suffering on Instagram.
Heart breaking.
I saw this post minutes after he posted it. Broke my heart.
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