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.
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!
I can’t bear this show. I tell you I can’t. We already know they’ll be divorced after 72 days and here we are watching it like a slow moving train wreck heading our way. My stomach. I think I’m going to be sick.
I know, buddy. Me too. Shit, here I go. Now you’ve got me crying. I’ll put on the tape of William and Kate’s Royal Wedding for you instead. Now *that* was a Princess Bride. You like her and those boys. That will make you feel better.
HHHHkayyy. ::sniff:: Can we make petit fours?
Do you have to ask?
Photo Source: SFGate
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.
So what do you think, Terence? I mean I know it’s homemade and all, but they wouldn’t buy one of those modular playhouses. Bitches. I made do with what I could find. Be honest.
What do I think? What do I THINK? Starla, it’s too fabulous. It’s just too, too fabulous. Is that reclaimed barn wood? And vintage fruit crates? And my God, TOILE?! I’m actually faint. Seriously. I need a juice box and a chaise lounge. Immediately. I also adore your sandals. I’m averting my eyes. I can’t make eye contact with them, this is how much I adore them.
