I wasn’t wearing my reading glasses when I saw the title of this thread. I misread “tired” as 'tried."
Shocked, I was.
Yep! And everyone thinks it’s beautiful.
As do I. 
Nothing like a little smooth, French pussy.
OK, I couldn’t resist. So sue me. But imagine the sig potential:
“Falcon thinks her smooth, French pussy is beautiful (as does everyone she shows it to)”
Una, Falcon… care to elaborate? 
Anthracite, dear, I know I’m intruding on the DC Dopers’ NYE thread (that’ll be a rum’n’coke, iamphuna), but I just had to get back to you. I’m doing my first solo NYE in probably 20 to 30 years; it doesn’t bug me that much - my friend with whom I’ve done manny is down and out (I suspect she’s asleep by now) and I have little desire to do it in the clubs.
So, time for some introspection (and a bit of Crown) and we’ll stay inside when the artillery goes off at midnight. I’m aware you’ve had a rough year, but a new one awaits. Stay the course, Anth.
[back to the party channel]
Okay . . . let’s all pay close attention:
iampunha
iampunha
iampunha
iampunha
iampunha
Are we all clear on my name now?
BTW, beatle, you’re nowhere near the first to misspell it, nor will you be the last. This wasn’t even directed to you in particular, just for everyone’s edification. I A M P U N H A.
BTW, Dave is the bartender. I don’t touch alcohol.
As for Falcon’s smooth french pussy . . . well, it has a personal bidet. What do you expect?
What??? Now even I don’t know what you’re talking about…
Nor do I . . . I was trying for a French joke. I doubt I succeeded.
No, to add to the joke you might have mentioned it’s wonderful, multi-colored sheen, that gleams when the light hits it right…or how firm and slippery it is…or how it has not one, oh no, but two little protrusions at the top of it…
…and how the bottom of it feels like felt…
Looks like you guys are having fun without me.
Fine…
(At least the Eagles won!)
I’m going to go sneeze and cough again…
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year, Michael, Una, Andy…sorry y’all can’t be here with us. You’re here in spirit, though - honorarily playing with Falcon’s pussy. 
OK, the story of Falcon’s Pussy.
It was a cold night in Paris, and the Rue de Rivoli was packed with shivering shoppers, out madly looking for last-minute gifts. I walked across the street from the Musee de Louvre Metro station, and worked my way through the crowd of heavily bundled Parisians. It was cold, and the wind cut through my coat like a knife. But I ignored it, for I was a woman on a mission - and nothing would stand in my way.
I passed by many women, hawking their cheap and shopworn wares. Their voices sang a siren song of enticement, promising satisfaction and happiness. I ignored them, and pulled my coat tighter. My feet were cold, and a voice told me to give it up, to give in to the cheap wares that were readily available. But I would not, and soldiered on.
Then I saw what I needed. I felt a twinge in my tummy that told me this was it. I looked at the beauty for sale, admired it’s subtle curves and smooth skin, and decided I would make it mine. I approached the woman offering her wares, and started the magic, subtle tango of negotiation. Always tricky - for I did not want to scare her off, heavens no. Nor did I wish to be thought a foolish American woman, so eager to throw her money at the first beautiful thing she saw.
We haggled over price. She flouted the beauty, told stories of the quality of the pussy. She dared me to find better, at any price. She was firm and determined, yet I saw something - indecision? A desire to transact the business? - deep within her eyes. I told her I had seen many offering what she had, and that her pussy was not special. There were women all up and down the Rivoli and Haussmann selling the same, to any and all who had ready cash. This is give and take, I told her - we both must have a meeting of the minds, if we are to each take satisfaction, and even pleasure, in this transaction.
She began to weaken, to hesitate. I feigned disinterest in her pussy. “It is such a little thing, it seems so small and uninteresting”, I said to her. “Almost cold looking, and unfriendly. Perhaps - that woman there, in the next store. Now she, she must have a much larger pussy, one which is more colorful perhaps, and maybe with some jewels that adorn it. Perhaps she has what I need. Perhaps she can make me happy, and fulfill my desires…” I stared to drift towards the door…
“Stop!” The woman cried, and hung her pretty head in defeat. Yes, she would submit to me, and her pussy would be mine, for the price I named. With hands that were almost trembling, she took my money as I took her pussy in my hands, and made it mine. Caressing with a gentleness only a woman can control, feeling the smoothness, the warmth, rubbing gently the little protrusions at the top, tickling the fur on the bottom. She smiled, despite her shame at her defeat, and we continued the transaction…
I left the store soon afterwards, feeling drained, yet satisfied. And that is the story of how I purchased Falcon’s French pussy.
[sub]OK, OK - I gave Falcon a little ceramic resin blue kitty cat statue. That is the “pussy”. I mean, what did you think I was discussing?[/sub]
OK, so the deal is, can I spell I A M P U N H A and crash a party at the same time? Remains to be seen…
Don’t worry, beatle, you’re welcome at our party, never mind ol’ Mr. Testy over there. We’re beating him senseless even as we speak.
Ooohhh…he flipped me off. I feel special now.
(See, I like beatle 'cause he said I give him a damn groovy feeling or something like that)
geobabe, you give us all a damn groovy feeling.
[Sideshow Bob] And for that, I thank him[/Sideshow Bob]
Now, can you intervene in this pussy abuse situation?
I had dcnewsman take a photo; it should be available next weekend.
Aww, shucks. 'Fraid I can’t do anything about the cat, though. There are some things that are beyond even my powers. Sorry.
OK. I’m gonna do something rare here.
The joke’s done, as far as I can tell. It has been brought to my attention that one of the parties involved certainly agrees with that. So, if you guys don’t mind (it’s no big deal, surely), I’m closing this one.