See post 73. And if you want self-indulgent, take a look at all your repetitive blathering about the SUV, completely unrelated to the OP or anything else. And no, I am not a fucking moron. Moron maybe, but currently, not fucking.
EXACTLY! There is an ever-increasing epidemic of lack-of-a-true-sense-of-humoritis going on. Apparently, the only thing that is funny in this day and age (for some folks), is something that includes vast quantities of profanity, or crudity.
And by the way, women DO go past 9 months. The average gestation period for humans is 40 weeks (and some of us DO go over). At 4 weeks per month, that’s 10 months. Tell those who don’t get the hyperbole to put THAT in their pipes and smoke it!
And rabbits. Desperado and law-abiding alike. Obamaclypse goes down and I’m falling in with the Leporidae. Already working on my ears, one of Tug Ahoy’s many off-label uses…
Well, by golly, sir, if you want to join one of them colonys, I say its a free country! Be the star of the soccer team, right quick! Not to mention the sexual opportunities!
Well, through the years, I’ve admired Scylla’s wordsmithing, always worth a read.
Something useful to add to the thread: I had a mirror shitting bird last year, a bluebird. Bluebirds are amusing in their vanity with a found mirror image. The male would get all up in the car mirror, and flash his wings, while the female perched up on top of the mirror to admire him. So, double bird shit goodness in the morning all over the car— they’re gettin’ it on gettin’ on at sunrise.
Here’s how I solved the problem, tired of birdshit streaking down the car, getting pissed off, too: put a plastic shopping bag around the mirrors , and, yay, voila, no problem. Just sayin’.
Wait, earlier on you said threesomes were a myth. On second thought, though: mhendo, the Cookie Monster, Kermit, and Grover make four. So that’s OK, I think.
Although I’m still intrigued by this idea that threesomes are a myth. If so, there’ve got to be several million people out there warping time and space. Just not you, Scylla.