My name is Ernie. I make bad choices…”Choices” include: consuming polka-dot underpants, pacifiers, sticks, blue markers, dog poop, and rocks (two of which are missing from my bowl of pet rocks, but not from my stomach – or my parents’ Mastercard).
I continue to make bad choices…
Poor Ernie. You are suppose to have your mother's love no matter what you do. Evidently Ernie, you have pissed your Mom pretty good for her to humuliate you on Facebook. You had better lay low until it all blows over. I hope you don't get coal in your Christmas Stocking because of this.