Okay… I’m tired of it. I think most of ya’ll are too. You know, you open up IMHO and see 5 threads like “Which AIDS infected, Plague Carrying, Angst Filled, Suicidal, Homicidal, Meglomanical Jewish Communist Madgascarite would you have sex with?” or “Light Bulb Sockets I’ve Loved.”
Sheesh. Ladies and Gentlemen, could we move on to another topic of polling? I mean, we’ve covered this in great, needless detail. I don’t care anymore that you have a fetish for Rogue or The Beast from the X Men.
Well there goes the thread I was going to start on “Which US Supreme Court Justice would you most like to screw like a crazed weasel in heat?”…
(I’m also reminded of the creative writing class student from “Throw Momma from the Train” whose contribution was a list of women’s names titled “Women I Would Like to Pork” (“It’s a coffee table book”).
I’m a guy. No matter what I might have said in previous posts, or try to claim in the future, if she’s female, or appears to be female, or is a photo of a female, or a cartoon representation of a female, or a female figment of my imagination, I probably would.
Which US Supreme Court Justice would you most like to screw like a crazed weasel in heat?**
Well, it’s a toss up between Thomas and Scalia, but only if your definition of screw is: to aim an over-sized, rusty, slightly bent whale harpoon that has been slathered in spoilt vaseline jelly which has been laced with the Top 10 most poisonous microbes (to humans) and thrust it into his anus that is being held open by the teeth of G. W. Bush and Fred Phelps.
I thought Idi Amin was dead, so wouldn’t you have to change the thread title to, “Which Dead AIDS infected, Plague Carrying, Angst Filled, Suicidal Ugandan would you boink?”
Also, um, somebody had sex with a light bulb socket?? Would that be in connection with the “Copious Amounts of Ejaculate” GQ thread?
Real good, Ender, one more time you have me bursting out laughing, hooting, chuckling and waking up the dog.
But I’m going for Rehnquist, Da Big Kahuna, the hunk of stone Mt. Rushmore never saw. There’s a certain necrophiliac allure there, y’know? Passionate love cries of “tort! tort!” if things got intense and he survived long enough. Imagining his satisfied, mule-eatin’-thistles grin up there on the portico, holding the Bible for Dubya.
Actually, as to the OP, the fight against ignorance leads us all down dark and twisted–very twisted–paths. Which leads me to wonder if even mentioning necrophilia was such a swell idea.
Freyr, it sounds like you don’t have any love for poor ol’ Fred Phelps. Any particular reason why, other than he’s as evil as they come? I live in the same town he does, and have picketed AGAINST him(even got mentioned in one of his faxes) He and his family even have their own little pet name for me. I’m “the church whore” because they have senn me attending two different churches, and, according to them, I “don’t know where I want to do my spiritual fornication”
Freyr, it sounds like you don’t have any love for poor ol’ Fred Phelps. Any particular reason why, other than he’s as evil as they come?**
Oh, but I do love Fred Phelps. I’d love him even more if he were doused in gasoline and set afire by the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. And I’d absolutely adore him if he were suddenly set upon by 100 clones of Quentin Crisp, each beating him with a tastefully matching handbag that contained a 15lb. lead brick. And I’d declare my love for him on the front page of the New York Times if everyone of his sons were caught sucking off truckers in each of the rest stops along I40.