page 102............. :thumbsup:

Does anyone read these moments I post? I don't suppose so

i do! :) .............

wow my internet is shoddy today

that's why i wasnt posting while you were posting. i was reading. it's some funny ones in there.

cool

I was going to post them anyway but it's sweet that other people enjoy em

Man. This guy has a lot to learn. I beat off to hot zombies all the damn time.

got all four wisdom teeth taken out today, and as i woke up on the couch at home, i made the discovery that the electrodes were still attached to my torso (you know? those two on your chest and the one under your ribcage for the IV sedation).

after making the discovery, i say so to my mum, and she looks over to see me picking at the adhesive disks.

"i can take these off now, right?"

"yeah, here..." and she rips the lower one off real fast.

even though i'm a particular hairy guy, there's still the whole patch of pubic hair in a circle on my happy trail which is now not there. luckily i protected the other two from her. there's more hair up north than there is in the middle.

so the first non-surgery related thought i had today occured about five hours after i woke up:

i wonder if i should clip a clothes pin to my "cybernetic nipple" and take a picture?

The best thing to do after you get a three-day suspension for smoking on school property and your principal tells you to come to his office, is NOT to ditch school, go home, get stoned, and then drive around in your parents car when you don't even have your license. Whoops - too late.

Zombie chicks are the best. They've got beauty and BRAIIIIIIIINS.

Shirley Temple (Black) came to speak at our high school in No. Cal. in 1968, when she was running for public office. Me and the boys patched in a tape recorder to the PA system behind the stage curtain with a reel of tape that contained several loud, gross belches on it, towards the middle of the reel. I turned the volume on the recorder and the channel it was plugged into up to "11", and took my place in the audience next to my crew. Sure enough, when Shirley stopped to take a sip of water about 20 minutes later, the series of belches roared forth from the auditorium speakers. The last belch was "spoken", and it said "Vote For Me Or I'll Hold My Breath". She HATED it, and consequently lost the election to the incumbent. I like to think that we had something to do with it. This is only one of many ratf**ks that we perpetuated in the 60's, 70's and 80's. One of the pranksters and myself are writing a book about this stuff and this looks like a great forum to try some of the material out. Let's hear from ya! More later.

In high school my friend Jimmy had his lunch stolen every day for a week. He figured it was Tyler and it was.

So Jim makes this beautiful chicken breast and cat shit on whole wheat for him to steal. Which he does. Only he figures it out in the lunchroom and took ner a bite.

Instead he opened it up and casually walked over and stuck it to Jimmy's skull.

I've been getting into boxing lately, so I decided to read some stuff about the Greatest of them all, Ali. Turns out that guy was a witty son of a bitch. But my favourite quote was when he went to a restaurant, and he goes up to the waitress:

"We don't serve Negroes here." She sez.

"Nah, I don't eat 'em either. Just give me a couple of burgers and a vanilla shake."

That was great.

Trigger Finger

War is hell, for sure. Either you kill them, or they kill you. Some guys just weren't up for it.

If you were cannon-fodder, there was one bright spot: Almost any serious injury could get you taken out of the front lines and returned home.

Even fairly minor injuries that just made you unable to fight. Except for one minor injury that happened a lot: Many, many guys somehow got their trigger-finger shot off.

Worked for a while, but halfway through WW1, the top brass figured it out and changed the regulations. If there weren't two witnesses who could vouch for you, then instead of being shipped home in glory, you were lined up in front of a firing squad because of " cowardice in the face of the enemy."

I sometimes imagine what it must have been like in those stinking trenches. And I imagine what it would be like to press my trigger finger over the muzzle of my rifle, and reach for the trigger with my other hand.

Surely you'd have to be purty brave to do that..

I finally gave in and went back to visit Mom. One weekend she dragged me with her to the mall. While we browsed, a guy I'd dated in high school recognized me and came up to say hi.

I shrieked like a banshee.

I'd imagined him tortured, mangled, and dead so many times that I'd come to believe it.

Too fucking complex to explain, so I just told Mom and him I got a cramp.

I go around to the back of restaurants, and bum cigarettes from the workers there. Even if they don't know you, most people will give you a cigarette if you beg prettily enough.

I do this instead of buying my own pack(s).

Before I moved out I used to have my trusty BateTowel. I just randomly chose a towel and put it under my bed. Everytime i jerked it I'd spunk into the towel. After there wasn't a single spot left not already crusty, I'd wash it, put it under my bed, and repeat.

When I finally got my own place I had 2 options:

Bring my towel with me.

or the option I chose...

Put the towel back in the closet for my parents to use.

They've been using it for years now...

ok damn that one was really nasty

I used to date a guy who talked in his sleep. Usually, he cursed about work or his boss, but one night I distinctly heard him say, "In all the time I've known you, I've never seen your apartment super-clean."

Slightly offended, I rolled over and asked, "What?"

He replied, "If you TV had a cape, it'd be a super TV!"

He didn't remember it the next morning, but we still joke about the super TV!

Denny's is the hilarity.

Especially at 3 in the morning.

Stoned.

Laughing so hard that you fall off the bench seat only to land in a gooey pile of dropped omelet.

Commence food fight.

Uhoh, the manager is pissed.

And very large.

EAT AND RUN

And not remembering the whole thing until someone reminds you the next day...

That was some good fucking weed.

Someone really should do the washing up. No one has even tried for at least three weeks and there is no clean cutlery left.

I just rinse off whatever I need and leave the rest where it lies.

I move out next week. It will then cease to be my problem. I'm not washing up before then.

and you know they'll eat you ! :D

I realized how pathetically single I am, today.

I wear a "Trollin' for Tuna" T-shirt to school quite often. And take the time to explain what it means to the hott blonde that sits behind me in English.

My boss treats me like shit.

My Boss goes to N.Y. twice a year to transact business...makes a real wad of cash (we're talking hundreds of thousands of dollars) and comes back home.

Now, technically, Boss owes the city and state of N.Y. taxes on this income, but these taxes haven't been paid in like...ever.

Years of profits all nicely documented (and residing in a photocopied facsimile on the edge of my desk).

One day, when the market's high and I can get a good price from my 401k, I'm going to quit that job. On that day, I'm going to have a little chat with the N.Y. department of revenue.

Somebody's got to pay.

do zombies swallow? :confused:

It's dark, and the pool is warm. I float on my back, watching the stars, almost believing in my weightlessness that I am adrift amongst them.

A sound catches my attention. I turn my head.

Naked, she enters the pool. The moonlight reveals the curve of her hip, the soft shape of her breasts, the smile on her face.

She moves towards me. I roll forwards and towards her. We touch.

The beer farts that had collected in my board shorts escape at last, breaking the surface between us in a stinking wave.

Damn.

A few years ago I visited Disneyland in LA with some friends, as part of a cross-America coaster tour. It was hot and I had on a striped sun-dress. It was on the short-side, but not indecently so, so I wore a thong underneath. Unfortunately the thong has either shrunk in the wash or else I had put on weight since I bought it, but it was chafing parts of me that I would really rather not have chafed.

After a while I got fed up with this and disappeared to the rest rooms where I removed the offending garment. I was very careful about not bending down and stuff like that. I didn't want anyone catching an eye-full. I am quite shy, really.

Later that day I had my photo taken with Mickey Mouse. In the photo, he has his hand (paw?) half-covering his face, like he's gone all bashful about something.

That bastard knew, didn't he?

Is it wrong to gain consciousness straddling the last guy you remember talking to in the bar? Does it make it worse that you were on the shower floor and promptly passed out again two minutes later? I think being a horny American in Australia is a free pass for unlady-like behavior...

Reading sexual lowbrow innuendo for about four hours, I finally realized that every single guy I've hooked into has wanted to go south before wanting anything else. It's an almost instant reaction. Some kissing, then BANG he's down. There is just some glorious fascination boys have with my snatch, like if they go for it hard enough they'll win.

Do I pick guys who are into that in particular? Or, is it the same for all guys to intensely crave pussy? Or has my reputation for taste preceded me?

Probably the latter...

On seeing a ludicrously attract female across the street, I turn to my peers and just tell it like it is:

"i'd crawl a million miles over broken glass just to wank over her shadow"

Since then, i've been trying to outdo the previous statement whenever i see another tasty lady, but am now stumped after the following, definative attempt:

"I'd crawl a million miles over broken glass just to suck off the last guy who fucked her"

I've never felt prouder after that one.

not sure. do they need to eat? i mean they are dead right?

I was on a blind date with a guy I had met through a friend after complaining about a one year dry streak.

We went for dinner. He ordered the veal. I'm a vegetarian. He blew chunks. All over me. He didn't apologize.

I still took him home.

I feel sorry for women, I truly do.

The fact of the matter is that if you see a man trying to be sexy, it's in close to 100% of cases hilarious, no matter whether he's a hunk or a blob.

A girl on the other hand, trying to be sexy when not, is one of the most repugnant views known to man.

ahahahahah! that's fuckng nastY

Full disclosure: Jesus Christ is concerned about your genitals.

He's quite concerned about whether you see other people's genitals, and whether other people see yours, and He's even more concerned about what you say about or do with your genitals or those of others. He's especially concerned about quasi-legal contracts which give people quasi-rights to each others' genitals.

It's not that I'm against this; I love Christ. But I don't believe in being coy about the tenets of my religion.

seems my pornography has downloaded.

ahaha. true. it's pretty bad.

i'm sure it'll keep for later

fucking oscar

i take the pen outta my pocket

and push down the back of his tongue

while holding the hair on the scruff

directing the boozespew into the

drain

there says i

he wont make a mess outta yer cab

as i toss the pen down the grating

i pour him into the seat

flip the cabby donnies last forty bucks

and give him an address three block away

put him gently on the lawn says me and thanks

not sure if he wanted to be a shanghi ed samaritan

but the story i concocted about how some doods were dropping live roaches down his sleeping drunken throat as he lay crashed on the floor of the cork and hammer

kinda pulled at the guys heartstrings a bit

a fucking oscar winning performance i said as he drove donnie off

sometimes you can lie for good

Posted on Mon, Jun. 09, 2003

Waiter Accused of Vandalizing Home

Associated Press

CORONA, Calif. - A family who angered a waiter at a Norco Sizzler restaurant later was served a few dishes they didn't order: a gallon of maple syrup, raw eggs, and rolls of toilet paper across their lawn and shrubs.