Our Minister begins the Benediction with
“In all that you do…in word and in deed”
One day, I whispered to my wife the appropriate bit for the ellipses there:
“In all that you do”
whisper: “This Bud’s For You!”
She has yet to forgive me, and I am always smiling on my way out of the Sanctuary on Sunday.
With a decent ashtray, the mouth part of your cigarette will be hanging off the edge of something and not touching anything else so won’t come into contact with any cooties. But KneadToKnow is probably talking about the crappy (heh!) kind where you to just lie your cigarette flat in a groove.
There are smokers who lie their smokes flat on top of the toilet paper dispenser then stick them back in their mouths. And I’m not talking ashtray either. I’ve seen burn marks where people have tried to set the filter end on the cootie covered TP dispenser with the burning end hanging over the edge so it won’t go out.
Think of it this way: go into a public bathroom stall, take your gum out of your mouth and stick it to the wall. Do you business, flush the toilet, then peel your gum off the wall and stick it back in your mouth. Would you? Nah.
Another reason not to kiss a smoker: moistened poo lips.
I’m glad I’m not the only one who does this. My wife’s a big Sinead O’Connor fan, but in one of Sinead’s gaelic songs the first phrase of the refrain sounds to my ears exactly like “Floating ninjas”.
Yeah, the floating ninjas have their own elaborate mythology now. And my wife hates me.
Has he ruined “Dirty Deeds… Done With Sheep” yet? 
(That started out as AC/DC’s “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” if anyone’s wondering.)
In a similar vein to the OP:
A few months ago I was lying in bed in the morning, half asleep, when the dog came in for some morning snuggles. He snuggled up against me, so we were basically spooning, and I was sleepily rubbing his belly with my eyes still closed.
I rubbed for a while, he made his happy noises.
And then I accidentally rubbed something else.
Yes, I accidentally rubbed my dogs willy. The contact was brief, and he didn’t seem bothered at all, but I feel like a perv every time he jumps in bed with me now.
Once you’ve thought about your dogs wang, it is very hard to unthink about it.
Yes, thank you, groove was exactly the descriptive word I knew I was failing to come up with. The toilet paper dispensers had little grooves built into them.
Holy Zeus.
For the love of all that is decent and good, pbbth, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PUT “TMI” in front of a story where you discuss such abominations.
I, for instance, read this with a mouthful of mushroom and swiss cheeseburger. I greatly enjoy this lunch item, but I will be sticking to green salad and a cup of soup till at least Friday.
And I’ve lived in the greater NYC area. I know the Dantesque spectacle that is the subway. (I took a lot of buses.)
I know how you feel. I was over at a friend’s house, petting his very cool dog. The dog rolled over for a tummy scritch, so I obliged. I was mostly watching hockey on TV, and not paying that much attention to my hand while the dog rolled and wiggled. The dog wiggled far out of his original position then suddenly My hand hit something that wasn’t belly fur. I had scritched scrote.
Sorry about that. 
Now you all know the reason I have owned exclusively female animals my entire life.
Oh and pbbth … I’ve been carrying around a Metro card in my wallet for the last six months since it’s still got money on it from when I visited NYC last summer. Now I’m afraid to open my purse! 
A couple of posts above remind me of a story my boss, Joe, told me a few years ago, when his son, Joey, was a toddler.
Apparently they had the habit of just throwing the poo filled diapers or pull-ups out into the garage next to the garbage can, to quickly get them out of the house. When Joe comes home one day he notices that the family dog has gotten into the pile of dirty poo filled diapers and ripped several of them open making a sizable mess he going to have to clean up later.
When Joe walks into the house, he sees his wife in the kitchen and asks where Fido is. Wife says that he’s in the living room with little Joey. Joe walks into the living room and finds Joey on the couch with Fido licking him all over the face and transferring Joey’s poo from his scruff to back to Joey’s face. Joey is just laughing and laughing.
Until fairly recently, I’d always heard that line as “Thirty thieves and the Thunder Chief”. Honestly ruined it for me when I discovered what the actual lyrics (and song title) were. I always enjoyed the picture of this big Thunder Chief and his band of thirty thieves.
Stupid truth. ::kick!::
Huh, I heard “thunder chief” for years before I found the real lyrics.
If you wanna kill some time is this vain, go to kissthisguy.com
It’s a whole library of misheard lyrics.
A while back I went to a symphony. First one I’d ever attended at McCaw Hall. At the door before going in the usher was handing out Riccolas. I thought that was a little odd, but whatever. We get seated, concert starts and someone down the row coughs. Then someone else a few rows back, then someone else over to the right. I couldn’t concentrate on the music; all I could hear was people coughing. It took half the show for me to finally stop hearing people cough. Gah.
A few years ago while watching Seinfeld, a friend pointed out how absurd the laugh tracks were, and how he couldn’t concentrate on the actual content of the show in anticipation of the canned laughter. Expectedly, in sitcoms that employ the use of the “Devil’s Laugh” all I can do now is count the seconds between the laughter.
I’m think I’m going to eat nothing but Chipotle burritos for a few days and then splice a few seconds of the resulting bowel movement into the middle of a few of his favorite movies. Un-see THAT one, buddy!
Reading a library book, eating a snack, until I come to a previous reader’s bookmark made of a sheet of toilet paper.
A while back I saw Dark City again on my new blu ray player. You remember that scene with Jennifer Connelly as the sexy lounge singer? Well, as the camera begins to zoom in on her face you’ll begin to notice something odd, you’ll squint. The camera will continue to zoom and you’ll :eek: when you see that she has a nice…thick…MUSTACHE and MUTTON CHOPS
Many years ago, I noticed a lost glove, then another, then another, by the side of the road where I was driving. From that moment on, I noticed that they are everywhere. Eventually, I started taking photos of them - I have over 400 pictures of different lost gloves - and I can’t stop finding them.
I remember the day when an English Professor passed on this delightful nugget:
"Are you aware that every Emily Dickinson poem…
Sorry, I can’t finish my thought until I figure out how to make a spoiler box.