With all the strays, there are more than enough cats to go around. Or are you a feline hoarder, you Mrs. Slocumbe imitator?
Truth be told, Poly. There’s nothing that would make we wish FoG would stop by.
::warm breeze sighs in the acacia, rustling the thorns with a sound like the softly rattling bones of something long-dead::
Now, you’re just not thinking this through. If all the gay guys switch sides, so will the gay women! Duh. There’ll be plenty of ex-lesbians around once this happens.
The women I know in North Beach have no trouble sorting out what they want. If we wanted the fellas from the Castro, that’s where we’d hang out. (not that it would do a bit of good…) So, where in the Beach shall I look for you?
Claps with one hand
Gotta like that !
thats how he sins, too…
I don’t THINK so dear… There’s NO way we’re going to North Beach unless it’s to drag our visiting families to Beach Blanket Babylon…
Geez, now I’m afraid to go to sleep tonight… you just scared me to death too!
:eek:
Now, did you hear that? Stop that hoopoe-eating! You stop it right now, mister!
I’m already busy with my Bald Eagle kabob.
I never understood that list. ‘Yea, ye shall not eat the following birds-most of which are difficult to catch, or don’t have much meat, or both, and most of which are not generally eaten by any other people for those reasons’
I know of only one place where bats are regularly eaten, and then only because the local species is the flying fox (wingspan aprox 3 feet).
The scene in Three Amigos comes to mind.
And the ban on eating Raven just brings up a lot of Teen Titans jokes.
Kid Flash was never the same after that.
Well, I am vastly relieved. Can I get that on paper? (and what about your friends–will they all take the oath?)
I’d be worried, bro – notice what’s not on the list of prohibited birds?
I see that Brewster2 joined this month as a guest. Let’s just hope his IP address has been logged and his free membership runs out as quick as possible.
I found a very appropriate word for a person like him/her: CHRISTARD.
Can you dance?
Not necessarily.
The great tragedy that stalks the lives of gay men and straight women is that they are both doomed to choose men for life partners.
Men, as we know, are dogs.
Ergo, even if gay men were to suddenly experience a biochemical epiphany as described, there’s no guarantee that lesbians would suddently prefer my puny eleven and a half inches of flesh can over fifteen inches of lucite that turns through two and a half corkscrews (and a half-gainer), bending in ways that I simply cannot.
It is fortunate that so many women are, apparently against their own long term best interests, addicted to real dick. Otherwise we’d be in serious trouble.
sniff…sniff, sniff…uhoh…heads up brewster2, the smell of potential fornication is in the air!!
Nah—and I’m still miffed no one appreciated my “Colossus of Rhoda” joke. I was very proud of that one . . .