There’s a commercial on the radio now, about jewelry, pearls in particular. At the end of it, the motto says, “And I don’t think the oysters will even mind if you take all the credit”. In my car, I’m listening to this, thinking, “Yeah, sure, gouge out my tongue, find the little bead hiding up in there, and take credit, thanks. That’s great, go ahead. Really, I don’t mind. I mean, do you think if oysters could talk, they’d say that? And to top it off, the people tearing the life out of these animals take the ONE fugging thing that makes them worth anything to anyone else. LOL Just wrong, man. Just wrong. I mean I sympathize with these little creatures. I’m not worth much either. According to my friend at work, (whom I will lovingly nickname Remix), on a scale from 1 – 10, I’m an 8. You’d think I’d be flattered, me and my little oyster like self being called an 8 out of 10! Why wasn’t I, you wonder? Well he proceeded to say, “And 7 of that goes to you’re a$$, Shay.”
Meh…my a$$ is my pearl. LMAO
My last rat died over night last night. I know you all aren’t fans of my pet rats, but they were wicked cool. My daughter and I would take walks to the lil convenient store, and keep them in our shirts until we got in line. Then we’d pull them out. Was fugging great to watch people’s faces when we’d do it. I called my daughter to let her know that her last one, Templeton, had passed away, and she says, “Does that mean we won’t have a big cage on top of our TV anymore?” LMAO (that’s where we used to keep the cage…yeah… some people have little sculptures, or doo dads, but no, we had rats on our entertainment center). LMAO (R.I.P. TEMPLETON- You rocked!)
The boys, Funkyshovel and Shooter, and I were hanging out. I explain to them my theory about my long ass tailbone, and how I’m most sure that I’m evolving. I explain this to Shooter, and tell Funkyshovel to touch it. He does, agrees that it’s long for a tailbone then we proceed to joke about him “Stroking my coccyx. Quite a big coccyx I have…it’s really rather impressive, my coccyx.” Hey, Funkyshovel, I know you’re reading this, and you know, generally, men who play with other people’s coccyxes are gay. At some point, you may want to look within and see why you like stroking my little coccyx.
I emailed Shooter today, a fellow geeker- (YAY)- and this is my email to him.
“BOO”
LOL
LMAO
Have a great day!
Aren’t you all glad you aren’t friends with me…you don’t have to get insignificant, retarded garbage like this in your email. Fug you if you agree with what I just said! You suck. LOL
Speaking of the boys, I was talking to Shooter about the double sided, uhm, toy use for gay people going to Disney, the fleshy human leash, if you will. People could stick one end in one person, and the other end in another person, and that way when they are walking around gay pride day, they won’t lose each other. Shooter gets a little freaked out, assuming I meant gay MEN, and THEM using it as a leash…ya know, one side of the double sided monster in one hiney and the other side in the other person’s hiney. (Nice assumption Shooter, maybe you and Funkyshovel can get together and discuss why it is you like rubbing coccyxes and assume a double sided toy should be used on men and not women) LMAO At any rate, Shooter says, “That just makes my a$$ cringe.” To which, I responded rather candidly, “I know. I smelled it.”
LMAO
With that lovely little visual, I will leave you all be. Happy Monday… which, if I was in a relationship, sexing it up and getting all sloppy with cuddly yummy goodness, I would endear happily “Moanday”. Tee hee
Have a good one.
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Meh…my a$$ is my pearl. LMAO
My last rat died over night last night. I know you all aren’t fans of my pet rats, but they were wicked cool. My daughter and I would take walks to the lil convenient store, and keep them in our shirts until we got in line. Then we’d pull them out. Was fugging great to watch people’s faces when we’d do it. I called my daughter to let her know that her last one, Templeton, had passed away, and she says, “Does that mean we won’t have a big cage on top of our TV anymore?” LMAO (that’s where we used to keep the cage…yeah… some people have little sculptures, or doo dads, but no, we had rats on our entertainment center). LMAO (R.I.P. TEMPLETON- You rocked!)
The boys, Funkyshovel and Shooter, and I were hanging out. I explain to them my theory about my long ass tailbone, and how I’m most sure that I’m evolving. I explain this to Shooter, and tell Funkyshovel to touch it. He does, agrees that it’s long for a tailbone then we proceed to joke about him “Stroking my coccyx. Quite a big coccyx I have…it’s really rather impressive, my coccyx.” Hey, Funkyshovel, I know you’re reading this, and you know, generally, men who play with other people’s coccyxes are gay. At some point, you may want to look within and see why you like stroking my little coccyx.
I emailed Shooter today, a fellow geeker- (YAY)- and this is my email to him.
“BOO”
LOL
LMAO
Have a great day!
Aren’t you all glad you aren’t friends with me…you don’t have to get insignificant, retarded garbage like this in your email. Fug you if you agree with what I just said! You suck. LOL
Speaking of the boys, I was talking to Shooter about the double sided, uhm, toy use for gay people going to Disney, the fleshy human leash, if you will. People could stick one end in one person, and the other end in another person, and that way when they are walking around gay pride day, they won’t lose each other. Shooter gets a little freaked out, assuming I meant gay MEN, and THEM using it as a leash…ya know, one side of the double sided monster in one hiney and the other side in the other person’s hiney. (Nice assumption Shooter, maybe you and Funkyshovel can get together and discuss why it is you like rubbing coccyxes and assume a double sided toy should be used on men and not women) LMAO At any rate, Shooter says, “That just makes my a$$ cringe.” To which, I responded rather candidly, “I know. I smelled it.”
LMAO
With that lovely little visual, I will leave you all be. Happy Monday… which, if I was in a relationship, sexing it up and getting all sloppy with cuddly yummy goodness, I would endear happily “Moanday”. Tee hee
Have a good one.