Vile_Vixen
Regular Member
- Reaction score
- 815
Meltdowns, I cause 'em
- Thread starter SirSuperSouthern
- Start date
- Reaction score
- 733
- Location
- in my radio ..
- Reaction score
- 8,269
- Location
- Halfway Up Ben Nevis
Did you ever even English?
- Reaction score
- 733
- Location
- in my radio ..
i heard if you do .. bottles ... after collecting it you can make waffles and pancakes out of it ...
- Reaction score
- 8,269
- Location
- Halfway Up Ben Nevis
At least I’m not a Brussels Sprout
- Reaction score
- 733
- Location
- in my radio ..
i prefer belgian beer and smokin for now .. :)
OP
OP
- Reaction score
- 777
- Location
- meltdown
Alright, time to kick all of you dregs outta the shortest bus that can fit five tards. None of you losers wrote anything worth paying attention to, so get the fuck out or relax, smell your fingers, read the following with great interest. Here I go:
I'm gonna go back to my picture where you see a G (me) lookin' so sharp normal's shave their eyeballs when they blink while admiring me. Why did it look like I was taking new pictures to head my modeling profile? It was time to meet The Gang, full of very well dressed, pretty women and their husbands who are responsible for these meetings.
We used to reserve the long table so we could all bullshit with each other. Then one day the women said "You guys are too boring to be bothered with, we're getting our own table next time!" Praise the Laaawdaaaahhh!" Not really. After the football season ends and the FF winner is through bragging, we ain't got shit to shoot:
Soooo, how's your lawn faring?
Well
...
...
...
...
You uh, playin' any vidya these days? Madden, maybe.
Nah, I'm placed in charge of sleep overs now.
Where does your wife go?
...
The women's table? Fuckin' rockin', shockin', burning the barn down with gossip, mean lies, heads bobbing like Marcy Darcy's used to do; some of their laughably large hats even fell off, sometimes leaving the feather on the floor when retrieved. The table then falls silent, all squinting eyes watching the woman whose hat is no longer complete. Would she lose respect amongst them all by leaning way back over to pick it up, or would she be afraid to look cowardly not to do so in front of them all? It was more uncomfortable than a high stakes hand of poker! The excruciating tension went viral because the surrounding tables that were doing their best to block their all-at-once chatter, felt, via The Force, that something was terribly wrong.
That's when real women need Captain Save-a-snottytrampwhocheats from these potentially disastrous events that will be gossipped about and exaggerated even if the Captian successfully removes the lady from the snake pit. Captains honestly try to make fools of themselves, do anything - even desperate endevors like pretending to be super drunk and intentionally spilling a little top shelf Mexican Martini on another woman - whoever was the one in brand new bling clothes. Everyone is a showoff.
The ensuing chaos makes it all worth it because then the other guys poke their noses in (silently because none could get in a word in, and it was too entertaining to break it all up). The feather got trampled but it was ooooold news to these ladies who would keep "angrily (not really, but that's fun too)" babbling about that incident. It was aaaaaall the useless husbands who even paid kids to mow their lawns while they relax inside a la Al Bundy.
I'm under the impression that shit needs to happen after we all take the (long) time to get ready for our seldom-but-interesting get-togethers. It's better than imagining the coupling of Pile and Stinky permanently ruining the motel sheets, mattress, and the carpet underneath it. EeEeEwwwww! Perfume and cologne brands need to hire them both to wear their competition's squirt and be sure to tell everyone what it is. I may even pay someone to kick-doe and cram Mrs. Nipple in between those two. Fun fun? Depends on the depravity of your odd kinky fantasies...
SSS
- women can actually prove to be fun outside of the bedroom or men's bathroom stalls like Kat
I'm gonna go back to my picture where you see a G (me) lookin' so sharp normal's shave their eyeballs when they blink while admiring me. Why did it look like I was taking new pictures to head my modeling profile? It was time to meet The Gang, full of very well dressed, pretty women and their husbands who are responsible for these meetings.
We used to reserve the long table so we could all bullshit with each other. Then one day the women said "You guys are too boring to be bothered with, we're getting our own table next time!" Praise the Laaawdaaaahhh!" Not really. After the football season ends and the FF winner is through bragging, we ain't got shit to shoot:
Soooo, how's your lawn faring?
Well
...
...
...
...
You uh, playin' any vidya these days? Madden, maybe.
Nah, I'm placed in charge of sleep overs now.
Where does your wife go?
...
The women's table? Fuckin' rockin', shockin', burning the barn down with gossip, mean lies, heads bobbing like Marcy Darcy's used to do; some of their laughably large hats even fell off, sometimes leaving the feather on the floor when retrieved. The table then falls silent, all squinting eyes watching the woman whose hat is no longer complete. Would she lose respect amongst them all by leaning way back over to pick it up, or would she be afraid to look cowardly not to do so in front of them all? It was more uncomfortable than a high stakes hand of poker! The excruciating tension went viral because the surrounding tables that were doing their best to block their all-at-once chatter, felt, via The Force, that something was terribly wrong.
That's when real women need Captain Save-a-snottytrampwhocheats from these potentially disastrous events that will be gossipped about and exaggerated even if the Captian successfully removes the lady from the snake pit. Captains honestly try to make fools of themselves, do anything - even desperate endevors like pretending to be super drunk and intentionally spilling a little top shelf Mexican Martini on another woman - whoever was the one in brand new bling clothes. Everyone is a showoff.
The ensuing chaos makes it all worth it because then the other guys poke their noses in (silently because none could get in a word in, and it was too entertaining to break it all up). The feather got trampled but it was ooooold news to these ladies who would keep "angrily (not really, but that's fun too)" babbling about that incident. It was aaaaaall the useless husbands who even paid kids to mow their lawns while they relax inside a la Al Bundy.
I'm under the impression that shit needs to happen after we all take the (long) time to get ready for our seldom-but-interesting get-togethers. It's better than imagining the coupling of Pile and Stinky permanently ruining the motel sheets, mattress, and the carpet underneath it. EeEeEwwwww! Perfume and cologne brands need to hire them both to wear their competition's squirt and be sure to tell everyone what it is. I may even pay someone to kick-doe and cram Mrs. Nipple in between those two. Fun fun? Depends on the depravity of your odd kinky fantasies...
SSS
- women can actually prove to be fun outside of the bedroom or men's bathroom stalls like Kat
Last edited:
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