I agree my darling, you were robbed. Please don’t fret.
I’m always the shoe in for the Hairiest Chest contest, Margaret. Now this. I wanted that Princess Cruise Lines tee shirt for my collection.
I’m sorry my darling. Next year, let’s not book our cruise in Greece. That’s where we stepped wrong.
(Source: flickr.com)
Lillian, having been warned on numerous occasions that bringing a single can of 3 bean salad to the weekly pot luck was taking the cheap way out, quickly agreed that she’d spring for the crab salad next week.
Are you ready to get this party started?
So ready. FLEEEEEET WEEK!
Mildred, I predict we are going to get more ass than a toilet seat.
Hello? Oh hey Bernice. I’m at Ye Olde Paris with my nephew. Spur of the moment thing. He’s been just sick as a dog lately and I just picked him up from the doctor and — what? Oh, they said he has vertigo secondary to acrophobia or something that like that — I dunno — anyway, I brought him down here to cheer him up. Practically had to force him but he’s been up there a good long while, so he should be having a blast.
Just once I’d like to make love without this furry fetish in the way, Harold. And now you’ve added cross dressing as well. With the clean skirt I was saving for the office holiday luncheon. Nice.
Like this?
I’m reading. Hang on.
Like this? Am I doing it right?
Shut up, I said I’m reading…oh here it is. Okay you hold up the sacred elixir and then you chant the following: Fahoo fores, dahoo dores, fahoo ramus, dahoo damus…
Why do I know those words? I’m knowing those words.
…fahoo ramus, dahoo damus
Wait a minute, that’s no protection spell. Those are the lyrics to Welcome Christmas from Whoville, you dumbass!
It rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever it is told. It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again. Now it places the lotion in the basket. It places the lotion in the basket…
Oh how funny, Richard. Hysterical. So hysterical I forgot to laugh, Richard.
I’m not laughing either.
You do NOT need protective gear. I do *NOT* smell like fish down there.
Okay.
I DON’T.
Okay.
You’re not a spring daisy down there, either, you know.
How would you know?
Oh not that hoary old chestnut again. I do it — just not every time.
Okay.
It’s disgusting.
So is the scent of tuna in anything other than a sandwich.
Yeah, well, denial is not just a river in Egypt, Floyd. I still say you juiced for this ride. No way did you have the stamina for that climb.
Do it again, do it again, do it again!
Once more, Kathy, and that’s really it.
♫Hey, Hey, Hey, bring it on down to Plasticville♫”
Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee !
