Don’t bother, it gets zero results. Damn!
[QUOTE=scotandrsn]
I have a strong desire to google the phrase “horny female walruses”…
…immediately replaced by a stong desire NOT to Google said phrase.
Probably end up with “AdultWalrusFinderDotCom”, “Find Horny Female Walruses in Your Area!”
[/QUOTE]
You’d have more luck with the phrase “horny manatee”.
" ‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
‘To get out of this funk:
to speak of more important things—
Like pinhead senators waving around my junk— …’"
With heartfelt apologies to Lewis Carroll.
Oosiks also make handy clubs. That’s why mine is displayed in a bookcase near the front door. If I ever have to give some anti-social blackguard a thrashing, I want him too embarassed to admit to it in court.
“OK, Mr. Burke. After you entered the dwelling, what happened?”
“He hit me with a walrus penis.”
“Case dismissed.”
There’s a story that a suburban police department around here once (many years ago) kept a pink bunny suit on hand for officers to wear when beating up recalcitrant suspects. The thinking was that no self-respecting hoodlum would ever admit to being knocked around by a guy in a pink bunny suit… and no judge would ever believe it.
I remember once in the 1970s, Johnny Carson had some Eskimos on his program to show some of the events in what amounted to the “Eskimo Olympics.” The spokesperson, a lovely young Inuit lady, presented Carson with a large bone from a walrus. I’ll try to reproduce the dialog as best I remember:
Young Lady: Here is a gift. It’s from a walrus.
Carson (receiving bone): Oh, OK, a tusk?
Young Lady: No. . . It’s actually from. . . the male organ.
Carson (looks somewhat surprised, drops bone on his desk, then picks it back up): Well, lucky devil. . . does it stay like this all the time???
OK, didn’t advance the OP any. Just though I’d share.
[QUOTE=Johnny L.A.]
When I was a kid in San Diego in the early-'70s lug-soled boots were extremely popular. the lug soles resembled a waffle iron, and one stomps around in boots. Hence, ‘waffle-stompers’.
[/QUOTE]
Early Nike running shoes also sported rows of square lugs, and left waffly footprints. They were also known as waffle-stompers. My wife still has a pair.
Japanese collectors were said to prize the waffle-stompers, :dubious: and they allegedly would pay big bucks for a mint-condition pair.
[QUOTE=silenus]
Oosiks also make handy clubs. That’s why mine is displayed in a bookcase near the front door. If I ever have to give some anti-social blackguard a thrashing, I want him too embarassed to admit to it in court.
“OK, Mr. Burke. After you entered the dwelling, what happened?”
“He hit me with a walrus penis.”
“Case dismissed.”
[/QUOTE]
In Day Watch one appears to be a murder weapon.
I love that my state’s best known politicians are all crazy or evil. Don Young - evil. Mike Gravel - crazy. Ted Stevens - crazy AND evil.
Also, I don’t think the usage of waffle-stomping has continued into the present for most Alaskans, only the super-conservative ones who still think that anyone who likes to preserve the natural beauty of Alaska is evil and out to get them. I’ve been called a Nazi by a state representative for attempting to speak to him about environmental issues - he stood me up on our planned meeting, and later when I saw him and attempted to speak to him about it, I got a tirade about why spraying chemical pesticides near schools is good and why environmentalists are Nazis. That’s the mindset you get up here: either environmentalism is 100% good or 100% bad. I’m so glad I don’t actually live here any more.
Shoot, it’s too late to edit…
Sorry, what started out as an explanation for why calling someone a waffle-stomper and other disparaging names would be considered OK in Alaska (in that environmentalism is very much vilified) turned into a bit of a political tirade that probably isn’t fit for GQ. Mods, feel free to delete my post rather than moving the whole thread, if that is deemed necessary.