Oddly enough, my family used to have a car named Bob. Really.
I learned my Greek Inuit from Uncle Cecil.
Kaniktshaq moritlkatsio atsuniartoq.Translation: Look at the snow. It fornicates.
www.straightdope.com/classics/a1_297.html
The book doesn’t say freaking, darn web censors.
Hey, Kallessa, who said you get to be such a bossy boots about the MMP? Did Rue give you an official commission? Do you have an attractive certificate, suitable for framing? Did some watery tart hurl a scimitar at you?
Yeah, who died and made you thread monitor?
Nope, not working. It’s way too early for me to have my sharp wit engaged. But you’re right - this thread should not be allowed to die so young. And where the heck are welby and Ex?? They’re always good for a coupla posts each.
Slackers. 
“Watery tart”? Huh?
But do you really think Ex is going to show up? In a thread about love? The man is afraid of talking about babies for goodness’ sake. (That would be the rice wine of goodness: goodness’ “sah-kee”.) A thread about love might make his head explode.
I have no idea why welby didn’t show up.
Helena, was Bob the Car Roman? No? I think you made my point for me. Thank you.
What? Are there brownies? Why don’t people tell me these things? Now I’m hurt.
But pirates Scout? That might explain Mom’s eye-patch. And her parrot. I’m afraid there’s no explaining Dad.
Isn’t Shibb’s “carnitas” the love of meat?
-Rue. (so many questions)
I had ambrosia for Thanksgiving. Still eating it actually. Well, not this very second am I eating ambrosia but I did have some last night. Tonight I will finish it off. Ambrosia… mmmmmmm. So is ambrosia the love of fruit( oranges, tangerines and grapes in mine) and coconut mixed together with a glob of real whipped cream on the top?
Oh and since Kallessa said to insult the last poster, Rue is a big stinky poopyhead who dresses like Peewee Herman. So there! nyaaaah!
I’m not afraid of talking about babies, Rue, I’m afraid of the reality of babies. All kinds of disgusting goo comes out of those things.
I got to see my niece over the weekend, and I have to say I was somewhat disappointed.
She doesn’t really do anything except eat, sleep and poop. With a little drooling, puking and peeing thrown in. And crying, but thankfully she doesn’t do much of that. Mostly it’s sleeping, except when she stares at you with a suspicious look on her face like she thinks you’re going to steal her binky or something. Do I really look that shifty?
My brother was really intimidated. He acted like she was radioactive or something. Or else he was afraid he’d break her. Goose.
welby will post after I let him out of the root cellar. Don’t ask.
Hey, watch it. I don’t swing that way.
My BIL reacted the same way when we gave him the chance to hold our kid when she was a little pukin’ poopin’ package. (As opposed to now when she’s not so little any longer) - he wanted nothing to do with holding her. Then he had his own kids. He had no problem holding them.
I don’t try to understand - I figure it’s a “guy thing” and it defies what I consider to be logic.
Good to see ya, Ex! And in case you were wondering, I don’t want you buying me and extravagant gifts or anything. Just in case you were wondering…
yeah, I know it was redundant. What ya gonna do?
[obligatory hijack] When they put DVD players in SUVs I thought… kinda cool. Ya know, so that kids could have something to keep them occupied while riding around or on long trips (what ever happened to the license plate game, and madlibs?). But something happened the other night that now has me a little concerned about them. I was driving home from work and it had already gotten dark (darn winter!). I was behind a large Explorer on the interstate (with the appropriate distance between us for the speed we were traveling, of course). It had darkly tinted windows, but I could still see the DVD screen . I found the flashing of the screen (the movie quickly going from scene to scene) really distracting. I was unable to change lanes to avoid being behind it because it was rush hour and the traffic was pretty heavy. I think these things need to be studied further from the perspective of drivers behind these vehicles at night. [/obligatory hijack]
Oh, and FCM, I think you should appologize to Kallessa. You were pretty harsh. I think she was only thinking of the MMP and what it means to us. She has a good heart deep down. So do you for that matter (I do see that you agreed with her after the tongue lashing). It’s all about the love, remember?
earthpuppy (feeling the love)
Don’t start on me, earthpuppy! You don’t want to cross that line! I most certainly was not harsh and if you think I was, you’re just a… a… weeniehead! You’re not the boss of me and I don’t have to do what you say!!
Dang, I’m channeling a toddler?!? What the heck happened there? It’s probably welby’s fault. let’s see if that pulls him out of the shadows.
OK, I apologize for the weeniehead crack, earthpuppy. I do have a good heart. But I don’t have an appendix or a gallbladder. They weren’t any good, so they’re gone. Fortunately, most of the rest of the stuff is still good.
Boy that’s the last time I go to Exgineer’s place.
“Hey, welby, think you could run down to the root cellar and get a can of corn?”
“Sure,” says I, because I’m nothing if not extremely helpful.
So I went down to the cellar and started looking for the canned corn. Suddenly the lights went out, leaving me stranded in the dark. There were a bunch of weird sounds, and when the lights came back up, I found myself locked in the “Root Cellar of Love.” I only call it that because there was a hand painted sign over the love swing that said “Root Celar of Love.”
You don’t want to know what other horrid things I saw down there. Suffice to say that a signifigant portion of Exgineer’s income is spent making purchases that are guaranteed to be delivered in plain brown wrapping.
My therapist says it’ll be a few months before she can take me off the massive doses of Thorazine. I’m not looking forward to it. Not one bit.
Uhh… earthpup, I know you were just trying to help, but the term “tongue lashing” and talking about two wimmins is just asking for trouble. We’re about love, not pay websites. Although maybe… NO! Just love.
Re: Breakable Babies
Soupo’s favorite game (once he could hold his head up good- think safety people!) was “Toss the Baby”. The Little Woman and I would stand six feet apart or so (Yeah, one time we went for distance. Then we needed a new lamp and we didn’t try to set any more baby flinging records.) and toss Soup back and forth. He LOVED it! He’d just laugh… Oh man, good times…
For some reason Grandma DeDay didn’t think it was such a great game. We weren’t allowed to play it at her house.
-Rue. (tossing an idea out there)
Rue loves me!
This I know,
For the O.P. tells me so.
Little Debbie snack cakes to Him belong;
They are small, but He is hungry.
No, No, No! Tossing babies is NOT a good idea! They do enough tossing on their own without any encouragement from us big people. And don’t even think about putting that basketball hoop up in the living room!
If those two wimmins are fighting I think they should kiss and make up. If necessary, I’ll be glad to be the middle man.
I used to think it was fun to hold a baby over my head (this was my youngest sister) while she giggled and laughed. Then one day she puked on me. It’s all fun and games till someone gets their hair full of baby vomit.
Bumb, you’re sooooooo transparent!! But lovable. And that’s what it’s all about, ain’t it?
My favorite Little Debbie Snack was always the Star Crunch!
I never tossed babies, but when me and my little sister were kids, we used to amuse ourselves on long trips in the backseat by doing “the Flying Nun.” One of us would lay down on the back seat and hold the other one up by placing feet on hips, holding hands and lifting (think Cirque de Soleil). Parents weren’t too concerned with seatbelts back then I guess.
Wah! FairyChatMom yelled at me! <sniff, sniff> I wasn’t being bossy, I was gently chiding everybody with only the good of the thread in mind. I may be a self-righteous butinsky, but I’m not bossy. <siff, sniff> FairyChatMom doesn’t love me! <Wah. Sob, sob. Sniff, sniff> And I don’t even wear boots!
When my neice and nephew were toddlers, I used to hold them by the arms (one child at a time) and swing them around in circles. My nephew liked it better when I held on to his legs, but we had to stop that when his head came into sharp contact with the couch. Luckily, his head was harder than the couch, but his mother almost had a heart attack, and she gets real bossy when she almost has a heart attack, so that game ended forever.
Bumbazine, you don’t need to angle for a kiss from me. All you have to do is get your wife’s permission and I’ll smooch you a good one! 
Aw, geez, Kallessa, did you quit reading too soon? Note that I agreed with you:
I never stopped loving you. Really. It was a joke. Sorta.
Anyway, in a MMP, the only love that matters is Rue-love, and that’s allllllll over this thread!
You know what would be good? Flavored M&M’s. Just the regular chocolate ones, only with flavored chocolate. I think orange and raspberry would be good. Individually. There would be a bag of orange flavored M&M’s and a bag of raspberry M&M’s. Maybe a few other flavors, I dunno.
This has nothing to do with anything going on so far, but I thought I’d mention it.
Speaking of flavored chocolate, I had one of those orange flavored chocolate things that’s, well orange flavored chocolate but ahaped like an orange cept it’s chocolate colored instead of orange, this weekend. You know, the kind you smack down on a hard surface to break off the little sections. They’re good. I don’t know what’s gooder, the eating of or the smacking down of the little chocolate orange.
Notice, I insult Rue and nary a comment? Could it be that every one thinks Rue is a big stinky poopyhead who dresses like Peewee Herman?
BTW, I got the Pink (it’s really lavender) Fokker postcard Rue. I was thrilled. Even more thrilled than I woulda been if FCM had actually sneaked in my back yard and filled my pool with jello. Although she said that she wasn’t going to do that, the fact that she even thought about it is enough to cause suspicion. Like, maybe, way way way back in the lower left corner of her brain, she’s contemplating it. HMMMMMMMMMM… Maybe I need a better lock on the gate.