What do you do with an occasional table the rest of the time?
What are you talking about Willis? I made this space. You filled your space with crabs.
And to answer Funkle’s question… The rest of the time it isn’t a table at all, it’s a jar.
door is not ajar when it is a jamb. urm, something like that.
Well you could sell it… second-hand.
(someone somewhere will get that totally crappo joke)
What are you talking about Willis? I made this space. You filled your space with crabs. [/quote]
I fed you the line…
Rescued
[quote=“Dr. McCoy”]If your broken bra should need repair.
Then I am the man to see.
I feel up your tits.
You tell all your friends.
And they’ll start running from me.
Here is the main thing I want to say.
I’m busy 24 hours a day.
I fix broken bras.
Baby I’m your handsy man.[/quote]
I didn’t even get a chance to put this one in.
When you’re down and troubled
And you feel my groping hands,
Feeling around over your shapely butt.
Close your eyes and think of me,
And soon I will be gone,
Feeling around for somebody elses butt.
You just call out my name,
and you know wherever I am,
I´ll come running, oh yeah baby, to grope you again.
Winter Spring Summer or Fall
I wish I could grab them all
But I’ll be there yes I will
You’ve got a fiend
My hands they can be so cold
They’ll grope you and then stroke you
And creep you out if you let them
Oh yeah won’t you let them.
James Taylor is a pervert.
Another daring rescue.
Oh wait, this one doesn’t go here.
The other day, Toe Save was asking me about my experiences in WWII. I don’t like to talk about it much, but I know he’s watching the Band of Brothers, so I guess I can. A little.
It was the winter of '45 and we were pinned down in the Dardanelles. Jerry was pounding us pretty hard and my men had started to get discouraged. I knew that it was up to me to get us out of this mess, so I told the lieutenant to mass the troops and wait for my signal. I grabbed Jenny, my trusty rifle, and scrambled down the mud embankment. As soon as the Germans saw me they started blasting away with everything they had. I was running through a deadly hail of hot lead, getting a few shots off with Jenny along the way. Not aiming but firing blindly to my right as I ran all out toward the enemy machine gun nest. Doctors told me later that I was hit five times, but I felt nothing. As soon as I got in range I started lobbing grenades one after another as fast as I could, but my aim was off due to a bullet in my bicep. Down to my last grenade, I fell on top of the armored pillbox, pulled the pin with my teeth, and dropped the charge down the gunslit.
I don’t know what happened next. I woke up weeks later in the field hospital, surrounded by donated mess kits and get well cards that said thanks to the ‘old man’ for getting us through. I might have more to say later, but right now I need a stiff drink and loose woman.
le mot juste
lemon juice
What happens when the sanctuary is full of crap? Is there a cleaner? Dung beetles?
Too much crap. Is such a thing possible? We haven’t been getting much crap lately anyway.
I’m picking the Chargers to win the Superbowl.
You are stinking up the joint now.
I’m getting plenty. How will you know when crap levels have broken the perimeters?
[quote=“Buttercup”]I’m getting plenty. How will you know when crap levels have broken the perimeters?[/quote]I have more crap than you have crabs.
Oh yeah? Care to make this interesting?
This crap won’t stop.
I’d get off the can, if I were you…
That could be messy…
en latin:
mea crappa