(total hijack and whining)
Would someone like to hire my husband? He just got turned down by a call center, because apparently you need three years experience and a business degree to answer the phone. He would really prefer not to have to work at another coffee shop, for just under enough for rent.
(/end total hijack and whining. Sorry. I’m upset.)
So, I finally get time for the MMP only to discover thst this weeks topics are Animals You Might Receive As Easter Presents and * Breasts*.
Well, I don’t have any animals anymore, and I don’t personally possess any breasts, at least not in the sense that someone like Kallessa possesses breasteses. Although I have been fortunate enough to have had the loan of a number of breasts over the years, I know very little about the day-to-day upkeep thereof. 
So I guess I’ll just say “Happy Morning to You” and let it go at that.
Although chocolate bras sound much more yummy than edible panties, and you wouldn’t have to worry about getting a pubic hair stuck to the roof of your mouth.
[sup]Did I say that in my out loud voice?[/sup]
Sorry dear. You need to move south of the border. We have much lower standards. Everything that requires a degree is outsourced to India, unless he wants to be a CEO, then he needs an MBA an ability to keep a straight face as he explains why it’s good for the employees that all of their jobs are going to India.
To heck with the chicks. Get guinea hens! They come in a rainbow of colors, they produce tasty eggs, and they taste good themselves!
They’ve got about the ugliest heads around, though. And their voices… you don’t want to know. They talk a lot, too.
Your poetry needs a little work too.
And, um, **Ashes, Ashes, **. . .I’m available for any back-up chocolate retreival that needs doing.
Please?
It’s all right Bumba, the truth about edible novelty undergarments needs to be told. You’re like the Ralph Nader of the sex shop set.
Welby, you’re now first alternate on the chocolate fishing team. Your hands are warm right?
Is it wrong that this thread has reminded me that I want a pet dwarf araucana chicken? I’ve raised a zillion chickens though and would be a good owner. I would pet her and feed her juicy bugs and be very sneaky when gathering her pastel colored eggs so she wouldn’t suffer seperation anxiety. Yeah, I didn’t think an apartment chicken would fly with you guys.
Lissla Lissar, I hate to sound like a Pollyanna, but it’ll be okay. It’s just the one call center being a bunch of picky poop heads I hope?
Hey, you try sayin’ “Kallessa possesses breasteses” three times fast.
Better yet, say it slowly. I think it has a nice ring to it. 
Just trying to be uplifting here.
Sheesh. This from a guy who dresses up like a picnic table.
Once again, my breasts are like the weather–everyone talks about them, but nobody ever does anything with them. <sigh>
You’re concerned about his hands? I thought fishing for chocolate was properly done with the tongue!
Thanks for the sympathy, Shibb. We really should move. I’ll take it up with Mr. Lissar when he gets back from class.
Hands? Tongue? Oh, yeah, right.
::Quickly hides tackle, reel and castnet before Ashes, Ashes faints::
Geez, folks, I’m getting all hot and bothered over here.
And I’m not sure which is the greater cause: thinking of white chocolate (yum!) or thinking of having something fished out of my bra (yum!).
:: swoons ::
I had… something to say… but I got sidetracked with Scout’s bra. Just thinking about it, not like I have any hands-on experience with it. But what was I gonna say…
Oh yeah!
The Little woman is having the whole family over for Easter this year. Why our house when Mom has a centrally located bigger house with cable TV? Dunno. But it’s gonna be here. You know what that means. I had to mow the grass last night and couldn’t wait til May like I like to. But on the upside the mower started on the first pull. It almost didn’t start at all, but when I was “priming” it I noticed the sparkplug wire wasn’t connected. That could have been bad. But I noticed it before I started trying to pull the cord to start the infernal contraption. So I popped the connector thingy onto the sparkplug and primed the mower and one pull brrrrrraawwwwwmmmmm! I was “in business”.
I have a confession to make too. I over-primed the mower. By the little bulb you prime with there’s a pictograph. It says you should only pump the priming bulb three times. It warns of grave consequences if you pump too much. It doesn’t come right out and say what could happen, so I just figure it’s fooling with me. So usually I prime it six pumps worth. This time, since it’s the first mow of the season I pumped the primer bulb nine times. I’m just a rebel that way.
And it started right up. No explosions or anything. (Which was a distinct possibility since I spilled some gas filling the tank.)
We can go back to discussing boobies and brassiers and dwarf apartment chickens (Ladies and gentlemen, The Dwarf Apartment Chickens! “Helllloooo Dubuque! Are you ready to rock!?!”) if you want. But please stay away from the white chocolate since that’s just bad stuff.
-Rue. (all pumped up and mowed down)
My mower started on the first pull this season - but I had to give it like 15 little bulb pumps (does that sound as dirty to you as it does to me?) Unfortunately, this past weekend, it died as I was almost done mowing. It’s in the shop and I’m hoping it’s not too awful expensive to fix because I was just about to sell the stupid thing. With luck, it won’t cost more to fix than it does to sell.
I don’t typically have problems with chocolate in my bra, but my spousal unit claims I never have to worry about dropping food on my shoes. He thinks he’s funny.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Heh.
With one line in one post welby gets a new friendly board nemesis, and Exgineer gets a new best friend.
I also think it’s completely unfair that Rue lives in Ohio and is using his mower already, while I live in New York and it’s snowing. That ain’t right.
And FairyChatDad is funny. Hey, I laughed.
Our mower must make a trip to the fix-it shop too. I hasn’t worked correctly for awhile, but now there’s just no getting around it…sigh. Hubby has said for the LAST MONTH that he’s gonna drop it off. But has he, you ask? N-O-O-O-O! He keeps getting wrapped up in socializing with the neighbor folks or playing his 'puter games.
This of course means we must borrow a mower whenever we cut the grass. We’ll we’ve only had to cut it three times so far, but we are now in full “mowing season” swing.
White chocolate is a travesty. Chocolate should ALWAYS be nice, DARK chocolate. None of that milk chocolate stuff either. I’m just a purist when it comes to chocolate.
Hee! Considering the depths you’d have to plumb, you’re on the right track. What kinda bait ya thinkin’ a usin’? Red Wigglers? Tongue, fingers, rod and reel, they all gots to be warm.
I’m not too big a fan of white chocolate myself, Taters, so we can give ours to Scout. Unless we’re wearing light colored clothing and our dark chocolate bras would show through. Have you tried the dark chocolate from Trader Joe’s? They’ve got a particular brand that is something like 124% dark on the chocolate scale, yum.
Around here it’s always mowing season. I was much happier when we moved out into the desert and there was no more lawn, just dirt to rake. Yep, Mom made us rake the dirt to keep it looking nice. Now, I just lie around while the groundskeeper guys do all the hard work. Then I enjoy the smell of freshly cut grass, one of the best smells ever.
Once upon a time, we returned from Easter morning festivities to find that my cat was giving birth. My little girl was utterly fascinated, and quite disappointed that she would not be allowed to pet the kittens for a day or two, at least.
One of the kittens, due to her timely birth, became Bunny. Officially, at least. Technically, she was still a kitten, but for all practical Easter purposes, she’s a bunny.
Bunny is ten years old now, and charges a fee if you intend to lie down on my bed; you have to pet the cat, first, before being permitted to become comfortable. And then she’ll sit on you. She doesn’t bite, though, and craps only where she is expected to. Quite personable pet, really.
If one must do live animals for Easter, I can certainly think of worse ways to do it. I also recommend stuffed toy rabbits and little plastic chickens…
I, too, have found chocolate in my bra, and bread crumbs on occasion, and once a baby rat, but the worst offender is popcorn. If I get popcorn when I go to the movies, unless I’m wearing a turtle-neck, kernels inevitably go flying when I take off my bra.
You’re probably wondering about the baby rat, but I don’t feel like telling that story (it’s not really all that interesting). I feel like…
(hijack alert!)
…Whining About My Hair!
I thought about starting a pit thread, but it’s much too lame, so I’m going to bitch about it here, if y’all don’t mind.
About a month ago, I my hair was driving me crazy, it was really long and out of control, so, on a whim one night, I popped into the mall and got it cut.
Now, you might assume that was my first mistake, but I have an easy cut, a layered, shoulder-length bob with bangs, and, since it’s curly/wavy, it will hide a lot of sins, so I am not faithful to any particular stylist. I’ll go to the cheapest places, I’ll get it cut on a whim, I sometimes cut my own bangs. I’ve had plenty of mediocre haircuts, and plenty of really good ones. And, I had been to this place in the past.
I have never had a worse cut than this one. And, to add insult to injury, this is the most expensive haircut I’ve ever had!!! It literally cost three times as much as the one before!!!
It was so messed up, I went back the next week to see if she could fix the bangs. She tried, but they are still wrong.
It just doesn’t lay right. It’s too long in the some places and too short in others, and because it’s got so much body, and it’s layered, it wants to get all Farrah Faucett-y, damn it.
And I am reminded every time I look in the mirror. :mad:
My only solace is, it’s already been a month, and now I can go to someone who actually knows how to cut hair and get it fixed.
I want a Bunny! Actually, that reminds me of a line in a Tori Amos song, “I knew a cat named Easter…”
Your stories always make me laugh.
But I am surprised by how young you are! I guess the “Master” made me assume that you were much older.
Ashes, Ashes, You have a groundskeeper?! Please tell me you live in an apartment or condo complex and you’re not a gazillionaire. On the other hand, if you are a gazillionaire, you can adopt me.
Methinks I must hie meself to Trader Vics to purchase some of this luscious chocolate you are talking about. That stuff sounds like manna from heaven!
As far as chocolate bras showing through white shirts, well…we can just bring back that ridiculous fad where it was fashionable to wear black bras under white shirts…and no, I never did that.
Aw, Wintermute, I feel your pain. It just SUCKS the biggest one when you get a lousy haircut. I got a haircut about a month ago and was not happy with it. Like you, I paid more for this haircut than the last one. Unfortunately, I’ve tried all the different price levels; cheap, not so cheap, fair, expensive, hideously expensive. I’ve received bad and good haircuts from all. It really does depend on the stylist. The one type of place I absolutely REFUSE to go to though is the type of salon where your stylist is working on you and two other people. I just HATE that! Many years ago, a so-called stylist absolutely fried my hair because she let the perm crap sit in there too long. She was wrapped up with another customer. I never went back again and this was an EXPENSIVE salon.