|
|
![]() |
#2 | |
Yes I am a Pirate
![]() Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: 33°46′08″N 86°28′16″W / 33.76895°N 86.471037°W
Posts: 2,776
Trading: (52)
![]() |
![]() Quote:
How about: "OK, so, she's a dog!"
__________________
Ceilin' fan it stirs the air, Cigar smoke does swirl. The fragrance on the pillow case, and he thinks about the girl. Thanks, JB, 1975. |
|
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
#3 |
Feeling at Home
|
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
#4 |
Admiral Douchebag
![]() |
![]()
__________________
Thanks Dave, Julian, James, Kelly, Peter, Gerry, Dave, Mo, Frank, Týr and Mr. Mark! ![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
#5 | |
Yes I am a Pirate
![]() Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: 33°46′08″N 86°28′16″W / 33.76895°N 86.471037°W
Posts: 2,776
Trading: (52)
![]() |
![]() Quote:
Anyone want this before I grab it? I fairly sure it's an action movie with JT, HB (hottie, hot) and HJ in the role of Stanley!
__________________
Ceilin' fan it stirs the air, Cigar smoke does swirl. The fragrance on the pillow case, and he thinks about the girl. Thanks, JB, 1975. |
|
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
#6 |
Ronin smoker
|
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
#7 | |
Swamp Ash member in exile
|
![]() Quote:
"My God, what is that smell?" "That's the smell of desire my lady." "God no, it smells like, like a used diaper... filled with... Indian food." "You know, desire smells like that to some people."
__________________
"There is true glory and true honor: the glory of duty done, the honor of integrity and principle" - Robert E. Lee |
|
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
#8 | |
Feeling at Home
|
![]() Quote:
New One - (Long and edited for family friendliness) "He's not to be underestimated, you've got to look past the hair and the cute, cuddly thing - it's all a deceptive facade. A few nights ago Rory's Roger iron's rusted, so he's gone to the local battle-cruiser to catch the end of his footer. Nobody is watching the custard so he turns the channel over. A fat man's north opens and he wanders over and turns the Liza over. 'Now <bleep> off and watch it somewhere else.' Rory knows claret is imminent, but he doesn't want to miss the end of the game; so, calm as a coma, he stands and picks up a fire extinguisher and he walks straight past the jam rolls who are ready for action, then he plonks it outside the entrance. He then orders an Aristotle of the most ping pong tiddly in the nuclear sub and switches back to his footer. 'That's <bleeping> it,' says the guy. 'That's <bleeping> what' says Rory. Rory gobs out a mouthful of booze covering fatty; he then flicks a flaming match into his bird's nest and the man's lit up like a leaky gas pipe. Rory, unfazed, turned back to his game. His team's won too. Four-nil." |
|
![]() |
![]() |