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Men things
- Thread starter Buster
- Start date
ATCJeff
Well-known member
Hmm...making money isn't the only thing Birch knows about.
Maybe we should call him Dr. Birch.
ATCJeff
Well-known member
Buster
Well-known member
That's not nice at all...
I've been called a Male Chauvinist Pig..so I might as well live up to it..:cheesy:
Show-me
Well-known member
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary......
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary. ..
Day 983 of my captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded..
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now................
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary. ..
Day 983 of my captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded..
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now................
James48843
Well-known member
A burglar broke into a house one night. He shined his flashlight around,
looking for valuables; and when he picked up a CD player to place in his
sack, a strange, disembodied voice echoed from the dark saying, 'Jesus
is watching you.'
He nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his flashlight off, and froze.
When he heard nothing more after a bit, he shook his head, promised
himself a vacation after the next big score, then clicked the light on
and began searching for more valuables.
Just as he pulled the stereo out so he could disconnect the wires, clear
as a bell he heard, 'Jesus is watching you.' Freaked out, he shined his
light around frantically, looking for the source of the voice.
Finally, in the corner of the room, his flashlight beam came to rest on
a parrot.
Did you say that?' he hissed at the parrot.
'Yep,' the parrot confessed, and then squawked, 'I'm just trying to warn
you.'
The burglar relaxed. 'Warn me, huh? Who in the world are you?'
'Moses,' replied the bird.
'Moses?' the burglar laughed. 'What kind of people would name a bird
Moses?'
'The kind of people that would name a Rottweiler Jesus.'
looking for valuables; and when he picked up a CD player to place in his
sack, a strange, disembodied voice echoed from the dark saying, 'Jesus
is watching you.'
He nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his flashlight off, and froze.
When he heard nothing more after a bit, he shook his head, promised
himself a vacation after the next big score, then clicked the light on
and began searching for more valuables.
Just as he pulled the stereo out so he could disconnect the wires, clear
as a bell he heard, 'Jesus is watching you.' Freaked out, he shined his
light around frantically, looking for the source of the voice.
Finally, in the corner of the room, his flashlight beam came to rest on
a parrot.
Did you say that?' he hissed at the parrot.
'Yep,' the parrot confessed, and then squawked, 'I'm just trying to warn
you.'
The burglar relaxed. 'Warn me, huh? Who in the world are you?'
'Moses,' replied the bird.
'Moses?' the burglar laughed. 'What kind of people would name a bird
Moses?'
'The kind of people that would name a Rottweiler Jesus.'
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