Things are looking worse and worse for you, buddy boy.
Of all the things our reprehensible mucky-muck has spouted, this excellent pitting ultimately boils down to the boobie-ogling?
Um … yeah, okay, I can see that.
But my experience has been that I can’t get them to stop ogling me and I’m beginning to find it a little disconcerting.
That’s Holland. Oh, how I miss Coldfire.
Well then why not make Church services topless.
Pedantic Straight Dope® moment:
Mucky-muck, muckety-muck, and other variations on High Muck-Amuck are derived from the Chinook-based pidgin of the Northwest, hiao muckamuck, originally meaning an important person but rapidly deteriorating to mean a self-important or pretentious person who, at least, has the trappings of power and authority. Our pittee has no such trappings of power or authority and we should probably refrain from elevating her status, even insultingly, even in jest.
Can we stare at her boobies?
I’m sure if you asked nicely, she’d flip you the bird.
Hey, I’m asking for rayh. Apparently, in Wales, even amateur boobie watching is endangered.
Although, if she flipped me a double breasted mattress thrasher, I might reconsider.
It says in the bible women aren’t allowed topless in church. It was in one of Paul’s letters I seem to remember. Something about “crowning glory”.
You were talking about hats?
Hey, less of the amateur.
Not if she is a two-bagger.
My apologies. Allow me to retract my previous statement and offer “Our reprehensible window licker whose boobies I wouldn’t watch even if they were the last pair of boobies on Earth – even if I was Mexican.”
What? Okay, I’d still watch her boobies, but I’d make a face that said I was really disgusted by them.