Poufy hair?
Right, I’ll go hunt down and kill Serlin before he gets wind of this. Don’t let those trolls near the beer! They’ll multiply! Or is that Gremlins and water? Whatever.
I’ve got some Sam Adams here- can I get in on this?
JMCJ
Die, Prentiss, Die! You will never have a more glorious opportunity!
Poufy hair?
Right, I’ll go hunt down and kill Serlin before he gets wind of this. Don’t let those trolls near the beer! They’ll multiply! Or is that Gremlins and water? Whatever.
I’ve got some Sam Adams here- can I get in on this?
JMCJ
Die, Prentiss, Die! You will never have a more glorious opportunity!
Now look here chaps*, you’re doing too many double posts…
(thinks, swigs)
or am I seeing double?
(has deja vu, swigs)
or am I seeing double?
*chaps is cockney for both sexes, of course
Veb – “Is that a pledge pin on your uniform?!!”
Me – “Yes, sir! Standing by to blow something up, sir!”
Okay, I’ve gotten no ETA from you guys… these women are starting to get edgy!
We’ve bashed the pillows around, the beer has arrived and I’ve got the BBQ cranking…
Hey, did someone say:
STRIP POKER?
Byz… we’re just waiting for you go “poof” your hair a little.
Which reminds me… anyone got any cheesy poofs?
Okay, okay, I’m gonna go to the bathroom, flip my hair down, hair spray the living shit out of it and make it stand completely on end. THERE! Is that poofed enough? I’ve also dumped a gallon of perfume (Sweet Honesty) on my pubes and poofed those as well…
I’ve put on enough make-up to scare the Jesus out of Tammy Faye Baker and I’ve even made sure that my ass looks good as I bend over…
Sweet Mary Mother of God! Is this good enough? I’m sorry, I lost the rest of the “attractive woman” instructions… do I need to do some thing else? Oh, yeah, have half my brain removed… um, well, that I can fake: Give me another three beers and I’m there! 
Best!
Byz
Tube top, and leather mini skirt, Byz.
The clothes make the woman!
Huh. didn’t realize there was a dress code.
Guess I should like, wash, or something, huh?
And Byzantine, as soon as we figure out which country we’re in, we’ll be able to give you an ETA.
< Flips out cell phone > Hey, ChiefScot! you still got that air cover? You know how impatient them thar wummin can get! We need traffic clearance!
You say “cheesy” like that’s a BAD thing.
Picture an Englishman on a bicycle with a credit card, a laptop computer and a dazed expression. He pedals furiously, then gazes at the screen, pulls over and begins to type…
Look Byzantine, it’s hard enough finding the rendezvous without you continually distracting me! Women, beer, underwear, strip poker - the list is endless…
Why doesn’t the sun come out at night when the light would be more useful? (Pratchett)
Here you go. Four extra large pizzas with pineapple, pickles and double anchovies.
Comes to $68.40 or $4,259.70 Canadian.
Who’s paying for this?
It’s immoral to allow a sucker to keep his money.
Wellhell, I’ve done it again. I avoided that Mark Serlin thread until today and then had to go and read the thing in one foul dose.
Byz, can you just hook me up with a tequila IV? I’ve already drunk all my perfume. Count me in; anything to get momentum away from… That.
:::shivvering:::
Hey, why let past downers cast a shadow on the “now”? There’s a horny, focused and solvent Brit pedalling furiously toward this lingerie pillow fight.
Uh, Glee? I’m not even gonna mention the laptop thing, but in your state of hormonal uproar, should you even be on a bicycle seat?
Nevermind. More directions…if you pass a charred hole in the ground with toilet paper in the trees, traumatized fauna and yellow “crime scene” tape around it, that’s UncleBeer’s old place.
Look inconspicuous, keep pedalling and head south. When you hear loud music and see scantily clad damsels frolicking around, you’re there.
(OK, wild women of SDMB, start frolicking! The Brit with the credit card needs a homing signal!)
Hey, why let past downers cast a shadow on the “now”? There’s a horny, focused and solvent Brit pedalling furiously toward this lingerie pillow fight.
Uh, Glee? I’m not even gonna mention the laptop thing, but in your state of hormonal uproar, should you even be on a bicycle seat?
Nevermind. More directions…if you pass a charred hole in the ground with toilet paper in the trees, traumatized fauna and yellow “crime scene” tape around it, that’s UncleBeer’s old place.
Look inconspicuous, keep pedalling and head south. When you hear loud music and see scantily clad damsels frolicking around, you’re there.
(OK, wild women of SDMB, start frolicking! The Brit with the credit card needs a homing signal!)
What in BLUE BLAZES is going on here! Jesus-jumped-up-CHRIST!
I decide to take a short break, to get ready for the holidays and spend a little quality time with my kids (they forgot who I was while I was at the last party), and what the f***? Another party breaks out. And this time there’s NAKED people. It’s too freaking COLD to be that naked! Put on a sweater or you’ll catch your death.
Oh what the hell. Somebody pass me some alcohol. I just got done watching The Stand on Sci-Fi, and the Trashcan Man reminded me that it’s been awhile since I lit any of my body parts on fire.
< perks up, eyes blazing >
Did somebody say…fire?
Heh.
Heh.
Hehehe.
Muh hahahahahaha!!!
You say “cheesy” like that’s a BAD thing.
Hey Seale! Long time no see! Hey, I’ve got something easy 'n fun we can do! Let’s light one of your farts, and see if the flame will light this booze on my hand! Would that be cool, or what?
Mwaaaaaahahahahahahah…
Christi! how tha hell you doin’?
No! Don’t salute! you still have a bruise on your forehead from last time you did that!
OK, I’m ready. got that lighter?
BRAAAAAAAPTPT!!!
Shit! I caught a tailwind (literaly, in this case), and my fart go blown forward.
The good news is, now my testicles are fluffed!
SLC dancing girls, here I come!
You say “cheesy” like that’s a BAD thing.
::walks in, looks around::
Damn ungrateful bastards…how am I supposed to write this thing up if you KEEP GOING! Ah, hell with it…pass me that tequila bottle, wouldya? I brought the cheesy poofs this time…
Hey Seale! I seem to recall still owing you a few smacks for comments made earlier… hehehe. :grins evilly:
“Jesus Mary Joseph…you’re a biker chick!” - co-worker, upon hearing of my tattoo.
Fluffy testicles. Dang. That’s gotta hurt. Here, Seale, I’ve got some Bactine right here in my purse.
::::rummages through purse, finds Bactine::::
No, no, you can spray it on yourself, dear. You aren’t that drunk yet.
Now, where’s those cheesy poofs?