Thanks to the miracles of science, I have the sphincter of a 20 year old.  

  I'm not compensating for a small penis with a huge SUV watch.  

  I'm so un-hip, it's a wonder my bum doesn't fall off.  

  I'd rather listen to a family of pigs being chucking into the Grand Canyon....  

  I will remember about innerSpaceman's package and sceagles sphincter, by dint of sheer repetition.  

  I think I am missing the third testicle that makes men crave explosions, muscle cars, and big TVs.  

  I predict sausage in your future  

  I think about shaving mine a lot. since it started slowly turning white I start to wonder whats under there.  

  I prefer the little land poots vs one big roaring earth fart  

  The boys down under are drunk on bacon again!  

  Wow, you survived the east coast.



Oh, um, we've kinda gone all Armegeddon while you were out.  

  Coming here cold from a Disney centric site can be a bit of a culture shock. Mutual respect combined with brutal honesty can to the untrained eye look like pissy bitching.

If you have a thick hide combined with a perceptive intellect (or like me, you're just a glutton for punishment) you find a niche here and flourish. If you can't stand to have your motives questioned or your views beaten about the head with a dead fish then yeah, it's probably better you find a shallower pool to swim in.  

  Honey, I was a FH before you were gay.  

  Dear DCL:

Enclosed please find: One (1) woman with a tangle of red hair, who answers to the luxurious and swanky name of "Not Afraid" and one (1) small cute widdle pug-dog, who sometimes answers to the name of "Thurston" but will run faster if you call him "Bacon" (hereinafter known as "Pooch").

The esteemed Mrs. Afraid suffers from a condition in which her hair grows mottled and limp, her eyes glaze over, she becomes taken with fits of excessive howling and stealing the bacon and/or Olszewski sculptures of other persons. Said condition, "Thurstonicus Missimus", cannot be cured, but the symptoms can be minimized to undetectable levels via repeated applications of saliva to the face by said Pooch.

Therefore, it is urgent and necessary that Mrs. Afraid take the Pooch, who has been certified and trained in the saliva-transfer method after months of relentless and brutal conditioning, on your sailing establishment.

If you have any questions about the above, please feel free to contact my wife, who will make you something yummy to eat until you forget the question. Thank you, and have a pleasant tour.

Love and kisses,
Dr. Kevy (or at least I played one once).  

  I have to say that the mere idea of Ms Lohan attempting to emulate the great Marilyn Monroe is patently absurd and akin to the Taco Bell chihuahua emulating Lassie.  

  Your pants exist as cheese? Or just right now?  

  Holy lord, it took 232 posts for this thread to get to the subject of tits and/or bacon?!?!?  

  I'm sure Lisa will have a cucumber for me.  

  The psycho on the bus goes stab, stab, stab...  

  Who put the goat in there?  

  Hugs to the supersize dildo lubed with Not Afraid's snot.  

  Aren't you supposed to seek immediate health care if you experience an election lasting 4 years?  

  I am done messing with Pricks, so I will use beef.  

  I do think hockey players are studs  

  Lotteries, however, are slightly less exciting than Keno. Which is slightly less exciting than C-SPAN 3's rebroadcast of the 1984 Telecom Regulatory Commission's sub-committee hearing on whether to reserve channels 13-21 for local community access.