i would masturbate fort-nightly to it.

As would be the proper response to such awesomeness.

I see you, Mutt.
Where'd ya go?

The Mutt said he was having problems viewing some threads.

Incidentally, I'm listening to gay disco.
Cheers, Jack.

The best work Leonard Cohen ever did was the soundtrack to "McCabe and Mrs. Miller". It is cool.


And so am I....





I just wish some of the sexier women here would realize it.

Disclaimer: by "here" I meant good ol' Wyoming. I know the women here are all stunning, and they all think I'm cool.

At least that's how it goes in my dreams..

update:

i'm going with the Buckley version as my favorite now.

after waking up this morning and having it haunt my thoughts, and then listening to it a bunch of times in a row and then the cohen one a couple.

definitely Buckley.


i'll admit when i've been wrong.

Sweet!

My mind-control classes are finally paying off.

can i put my pants back on now?

Good, you'll know some of the lyrics at LCLF.

No. Leave work, drive home, go into your wife's panty drawer, pick out the biggest, most stretched-out pair you can find (preferably something lacy) and put those on. Then, go back to work. If anyone mentions the manties, simply smile and say "I am a pretty girl", then go back to what you were doing.

That was my 5000th post. Thank god it was something useful.

ha.

i might be able to fit my wife's panties over one of my tree trunks legs....

Wear one pair on each leg. It's the latest!

i could tell people that they're garters with handles.

Squeeze me macaroni.

Honey -- Bobby Goldsboro

That's the saddest song you know?

Sad song? I got the wrong thread. I thought this was for the sickest song.

That is a sick song,
he prolly buried her in the basement.

Clutter up her Butter Gutter, Rimmy!

Okey dokey.

(What????????)

Slap your face with my baloney.


P.S. Ronald McDonald just loves to be fondled

With his Big Mac he'll fuck it like a Chicken McNugget?

There right now.
No question.

Yeppers.

(Seems So Long Ago,) Nancy

The morning had not come,
Nancy was alone,
looking at the Late Late show
through a semi-precious stone.
In the House of Honesty
her father was on trial,
in the House of Mystery
there was no one at all,
there was no one there at all.

It seems so long ago,
none of us were very strong;
Ah, but Nancy wore green stockings
and she, she slept with everyone.
She never said she'd wait for us
even though she was alone,
I think she fell in love for us
in nineteen sixty one,
in nineteen sixty one.

Ah the morning would not come,
Nancy was alone,
a forty five beside her head,
an open telephone.
Yes, we told her she was beautiful,
we all told her she was free
but none of us could meet her in
the House of Mystery,
the House of Mystery.

And now why don't you look around you,
see her everywhere,
many of you who used her body,
many combed her hair.
And in the hollow of the night
when you are cold and numb
you hear her talking freely then,
she's happy that you've come,
she's happy that you've come.