I’m pretty sure that joke predates that movie.
And I think that the Liberty Township Firefighter’s Association should give Rue a small blowtorch so they’ll have something to do.
I once saw a partially nekkit man pounding his pepperoni on a knoll next to the Mass Pike. A definite eeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww moment.
Immature hawks, etc., have been known to attack small pets and do considerable damage with beak and talons, even though said pets probably outweigh them. I would expect that Lucy, being a terrier, could make one see the evil of it’s ways.
Not much interesting gets into my backyard due to the fact that it’s enclosed by six foot board-on-board fencing. Although, the occasional deluded possum gets in there somehow and lathers up the dogs.
One spring the “smoking” porch on the back of my office building was invaded by a flock of mallards. They liked the shade. They left lots of mushy duck poo that the maintenance guy had to clean up. He was mad.
The only flan I ever had was homemade by a lovely chinese lady from Hong Kong. It was delicious and not at all boogery or drooly.
Now I have a hypothetical question for y’all. Being too lazy to put this in IMHO, I’ll just see what opinions I get here. Remember, this is hypothetical now. Say you bought a new printer from Chez Target online. Say when they delivered said printer there was another package addressed to you. Say that package had an i-pod in it. Say said i-pod has not been charged to your account. Say your first inclination was to send it back but you don’t want somebody to just pocket it. What would YOU do?
Tupug (Just sayin’ is all)
I want one of those mini blow torches too. I am convinced that I could become a great chef with one of those. I want to set desserts on fire. I just think that would be so cool! Imagine the delight on the faces of my guests when I flame a creme brulee or crepe suzette! Maybe even some baked alaska!
Hmmm… is that delight or fear I see on my guest’s faces. Some of them may still recall the great outdoor cooker fire of '98 still. Some things ya can never live down!
Puggy I’d return it myself. Unless maybe they’re giving away a free ipod with every printer purchase? It could happen, is all I’m sayin’.
I have a book she wants to read. Given that we are more or less in the same place, and that in the past I have demonstrated the ability to tackle such challenging tasks as tying my own shoes and breathing and walking simultaneously, you would think that I would manage to get said book into her hands in something less than a week and a half.
You would be wrong.
I’d call the company’s customer service hotline and mention to them, “Wow, that was nice of you to send me an iPod, but I didn’t order it. Is this a gift or shall I return it?”
If they want it returned then they should pay the postage.
Shibb (no relation to Dear Abby or Miss Manners)
Hey, Tupug, it just occurred to me that The Girl is currently reading Molly Moon’s Incredible Book of Hypnotism, which features Petula, who is apparently a blue pug. Are you hip to these books?
Really, you should send it back. But like Shibb said, not pay the postage. It their mistake, you shouldn’t have to pay for it.
BUT… anything that gets sent to you that you didn’t order should be treated like a gift. You don’t have to pay for it, and you get to keep all the swag. I think there’s a law like that or something.
Me? I’d keep it. But then I have no descernable moral fibers so I wouldn’t even feel badly about it. I mean, I steal glasses from chain restaurants and one of those shopping baskets from Home Depot. (But that was more an accident because I don’t pay attention to things. I was going to take it back but I haven’t yet. It’s only been six months.)
I’m not to be trusted.
I have not had flan that was the consistency of the afore-mentioned biological products. I would not eat flan that was the consistency of the afore-mentioned biological products. However, so far two posters* here have mentioned that the afore-mentioned biological products describe a good flan and I begged to differ as I don’t see how “boogery and drooley” can possibly describe anything edible that tastes good since the description itself precludes one from wanting to taste it. So don’t blame me for the afore-mentioned biological products being associated with good flan.
*Ashes, Ashes was one of those who used the term, I can’t find the other right now.
We really do need a pukey smiley. I saw one on another board, how hard would it be to add one here?
Rue is right, that is the law, but you should do whatever your conscience dictates.
Actually, boogery and drooly pretty concisely describes oysters, and people eat them. I don’t. But other people do. Someone once told me that eating a raw oyster was like getting to know somebody really really well. 
Puggy the thought of a possum lathering up your dogs gave me a very funny visual.
I had one of those little torches once, or something like, only mine had a soldering tip you could push on over the torchy end so you could solder with it. The biggest problem with it was that you couldn’t put it down anywhere. Well you could if you turned it off. But then you’d have to light it again to use it some more. Anyway, after a while I couldn’t find the little fuel canisters for it anymore and then I lost it. Which means it’s probably around here somewhere still, but I just haven’t seem it in years.
Okay, okay, I admit I might have been exagerating a tad when I said flan was boogery. Unless you’ve allowed the boogers to congeal in a flan mold for a while. But flan is almost always drooly. I stand by that. And it’s mainly just sweet. And then more sweet and then a little more sweet. And while songs with one note have served some musicians well, I don’t like one-trick ponies, dessert-wise. Why yes, I do enjoy a mish-mash of metaphors.
Puggy, if it were me, I’d call and ask what the deal was. But if they want it back, they have to pay postage, provide the box and come pick it up. I wouldn’t shift my lazy self (I’m lazy, you’re an energetic Pug, but still) one inch. It would just encourage similar mistakes on their part. Really, you’d just be helping them help themselves. But you’ve gotta call or you’ll always think of how it’s technically a stolen iPod whenever you use it. And while I am evil and would revel in stolen booty, you are good and it would gnaw at you.
[sub]I have a to-oorch, I have a to-oorch! Hee![/sub]
I got dragged to Mr. Lissar’s friend’s going-away party. Okay, I wanted to go to the dinner buffet, but I didn’t want to go to karaoke after. I was forcibly taken to Pacific Mall (a very very very large Asian mall slightly north of the city) and we rented a booth for an incredible amount of money and I now know that Mr. Lissar and his friend should never, never become rappers.
So that was my evening.
Kyth, have you ever been to Pacific Mall? It’s huge. Gahh.
Flan is good. I assume by ‘flan’ you mean different types of custard. I love custard. And the words you’re looking for to describe it are not ‘drooly’, they’re ‘creamy’ and ‘delicious’.
Just to close the loop on boogers and flan, one time I went to the doctor with a case of bronchitis, coughing up these greenish yellow plastic-y chunks out of my lungs. I called them lung oysters, and he confirmed that was the proper medical terminology…
That’s fine, raw oysters can be described as boogery and drooley as much as you like, but please don’t use the term for good desserts.
I have a pain in the neck right now. Literally. Various whiplash injuries have left me with recurring neck and back pain and right now the neck hurts a lot. I can’t turn very far to the left, the left shoulder hurts a lot and my head also hurts and it makes me a bit nauseaus. The pain starting to move over to the right side now (I think I overcompensate making the muscles on the opposite side fatigued). I’ve tried the OTC pain patches and smelly ointments, I think I’m going to try a hot shower next. Anyone have any other good home remedies? It doesn’t look like I’m going to actually get any work done today.
Wile E if you wanna run up to south Jawja, I’ll let you sit in my hot tub. It has one of those recliner seats where the jets hit right at the base of the neck. Feels sooooo gooooooooooooooooooooood!!!
Raw oysters are boogery and drooly. Used to, I’d eat raw oysters, but not anymore. Fear of downing raw stuff plus, I guess, changes in taste buds over the year make me go all “ick!” when I see em. Still like em cooked though. Oyster stew is yummy, even though it, too, is kinda boogery and drooly. Oyster dressing (or stuffing for you yankees) is also yummy. But it’s not boogery and drooly.
Oh, tomorrow I have to go up to Etlanner for a meeting, so I won’t be posting. Except maybe at night, if I feel like it. I’ll be tired. I hate driving up to Etlanner and back in a day. It’s a boring three hour one way trip. ICK!
I have no experience with flan (and frankly, this discussion does not instill a great urge to have such an experience), but I have a good story about oysters. Real ones, not lung ones.
So, a friend and I go out to a fancy resturant as a celebration of me going away to law school. Both of us, separately, tell the maitre’ de (or however it’s spelled) that this is a “special” evening and we want a good table, please. We then proceed to have a pre-dinner drink. Or two. (We weren’t going to be driving). They were martinis. Big, dry vodka martinis on an empty stomach (why eat when you know you’ll going to have a fabulous dinner?) We were both very happy by the time we were shown to our table.
Our lovely table, close enough to the fountain to be romantic, far enough from the kitchen to be fashionable, and very, very private. Did I mention that my friend was another girl? And that we had both dressed up? And that, frankly, neither one of us is adverse to physical contact with the other? The inference that we were a happy lesbian couple celebrating an anniversary or other paired occasion didn’t hit us until later in the meal, when the waiter gave us a very strange look when we flirted with him.
But what about the oysters, you ask? So, we had martinis, then were seated, and ordered wine and an appetizer. This was the type of resturant where dinner is suppose to take all night–lots of lingering over variuos courses, etc. So, my friend likes oysters. She says, “let’s order oysters as an appetizer!” I’m drunk. I agree. We then begin to linger over the wine while they prepare the appetizer.
I’m sipping the wine a bit slower than I had the martinis, and there’s bread on the table, so between odering the oysters and actually getting the oysters, I regain just enough sobriety to know I’ve gotten myself into something I shouldn’t have, but not enough to prevent me from trying an oyster. According to my friend, the oysters were delicious. I am still trying to block out the memory of the creamy, gooey ugh-ness that slid down my throat. Icky, icky icky! And sober, I knew that even without ever trying an oyster. Emboldened by vodka—ah, fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
Oysters = icky, icky, bad, bad.
Lobster Cardinel + chocolate mousse for desert = yummy, yummy, good, good.
A lesbian date with two straight women = why the heck not?
Nope, but they look good. At least the artist knew pretty well how to render a pug. Lots of them don’t. Let me know how The Girl likes her book.
Kalley reading about your lesbian date just gave me an evil idea. Would it not be just tons o’ fun if, say, your friend and you and, say, Homebrew and I all went out to that same fancy restaurant for dinner? We’d look like two straight couples out for a nice dinner. Except, in the middle of dinner, you would lean over and give your friend a big ol’ smack on the lips and I’d lean over and give Homebrew a big ol smack or four on the lips. Bet that’d make the waiter drop his peppermill! 
British (I think he’s British, anyway) comedian Frank Skinner on oysters as an aphrodisiac:
“They’re not to get you horny. They’re just so disgusting they make oral sex seem like dessert. Eating oysters is like licking snot off a turtle shell.”
I have nothing else to add.
Just a quick note, I’m at a conference–thanks for all those toasts, and if people looked at you funny, as Swampy says, it is just gravy.
Gravy…waffles…flossing…
I’ve always thought oysters were just a bit too much like a fetus for me to want to eat them.