After learning here that Jack Batty has secretly been making sweet music with my sweetie, slackergirl, I have rushed to her apartment to deliver the ass-whipping of the universe, a gigantic can of whup-ass, a foot up his ass.
Prepare, ungodly cad, to face my wrath!
It looks like you’re going to have your ass-whuppin’ work cut for you , Chico, cuz it’s not only me you’ll have to deal with. Zyzzyva is here too! And Sea Diver just left. That’s your one break, because you know what kind of damage she can inflict.
So if that whole ass-whuppin’ thing doesn’t work out for you, maybe you can join us for a nice game of tiddly-winks or something.
I accidently read the thread title as “I am kissing Jack Batty’s ass!”
I’m still laughing…
No way! There’s no kissing going on here! The blood and flesh is flying and the casualties are mounting. The sewing machine was the first to go, followed by the air filter (i guess that means Snoooopy’s lungs will be then next to go). There’s hair all over the place. I can’t tell who’s on top right now, but there’s no way either of these monsters will be up any time soon.
Assuming, of course, that Snoooopy’s lungs don’t give in from Slackergirl’s cats.
Awww, come on guys, isn’t there enough of me to go around?
I may just have to give up on you both and turn to Jeyen for some solace, and no Snooooopy, you can’t have a tape.
I will wound Jack Batty to the core by spitting on his precious pork sno-balls without him knowing. Then, when he pops them in his mouth, he will have a little bit of ME coursing through his body … and, eventually, his poop.
I am very cunning!
Yes, Snooooopy has wounded me greviously, for I have just witnessed him posing in the classic Penthouse “crab shot”. You know, it looks as though the model is checking herself for crabs? Do you understand just what I have just been put through?!?
MY EYES!
Oh good Christ, now he’s pulling a Madonna on my beer bottle. And, no, I’m not speaking euphemistically!!
Your beer bottle and I have fallen in love and are going to get married. I want to hold your beer bottle while resting in a field of dandelions. I want to stroke your beer bottle lovingly. I have truly found the love of my life.
OOOOOH! (licks lips)
I’ve been abandoned for a beer bottle?
I’m speechless.
It’s OK, I was going to dump you for a cucumber anyway. Or maybe a big Italian sausage.
Oh, slackergirl, there’s enough room for the beer bottle AND you!
Exactly how much did you guys drink after I left you yesterday?
Freaks.
Yeah, woodstock, you were the steady, coolheaded leader who kept it all together. Once you left, it all descended into sheer MADNESS! MADNESS, I tell you!