Where the Kids Come to Mouth Off

[Theres and Thats]

Originally posted by Anttwat
What will become of us?

Antwat, long time no see! What's been going on in your drawer?

You know it really didn't work out between me and that little ped I'd been seeing.

[Anttwat]

Originally posted by Theres and Thats
Antwat, long time no see! What's been going on in your drawer?

You know it really didn't work out between me and that little ped I'd been seeing.

Oh, you know, this and that. But I'm about to be taken to the Stalin board, or parts unknown. I'm a little scared to tell you the truth. I don't like moving. It's so traumatic.

[Theres and Thats]

Originally posted by Anttwat
Oh, you know, this and that. But I'm about to be taken to the Stalin board, or parts unknown. I'm a little scared to tell you the truth. I don't like moving. It's so traumatic.

At least you're being brought with and not just forgotten.

The worst is when someone pulls you off quickly, all sweaty, and leaves you between the sheets with the underwear and you get kicked down to the very bottom of the bed and then they go away on vacation without changing the sheets, and its just you and the underwear smelling up that cramped little space.

Or when you're forgotten in some overnight bag after traveling to a deposition, just rotting there, or stuck all dirty into a locker. And no matter what, it's always with the dirty underwear.

Soon, that's all we'll be, a few socks rotting away with the dirty underwear in a forgotten corner.

I'm so sad.

[evenodds]

Theres and Thats is Greedy.

Anttwat is Not From Here.

Now, go away with the sock bullshit.

[Not Bob]

Originally posted by evenodds
Theres and Thats is Greedy.

Anttwat is Not From Here.

Now, go away with the sock bullshit.

God, I absolutely love it when you get all Boss Lady on people. Now I have a mental picture of you as Jennifer Taylor Clarke (David's boss from The Office).

And, str8, you are so wrong -- she's muy caliente.

[Hank Chinaski]

Originally posted by Atticus Grinch
This is a movie in which 11 starving POWs forego a halftime opportunity for freedom in order to mount a come-from-behind victory against their Nazi guards (who are, being Nazis, bigtime cheaters), and your complaint is "It glorifies bicycle kicks too much"?

Your sense of proportionality explains a lot about your PB persona.

Look, I don't mind the odd bicycle kick scene in a prison movie, provided it advances the plot, but some of the bicycle kick scenes in Victory, just seemed gratuitous, ya know?

[The Dryer Thread]

Originally posted by evenodds
Theres and Thats is Greedy.

Anttwat is Not From Here.

Now, go away with the sock bullshit.

Should I be scared? I feel liked I'm being permanently pressed out of existence!

[Shape Shifter]

As some may have noticed, there has been some controversy involving the board lately. Many times it is easy to get bogged down in immediate issues and we begin to lose focus on what's really important. Recent events have caused me to reflect on what is truly important on this board: cock rings, double anal, TITS!, shavey bouncers, paigow [sniff] and penske [sniff], spinsters and cougars, bottle-knocking frat cats, my beautiful beautiful penis, and more TITS! And sometimes politics.

Yes, this board is an invaluable forum to discuss the pressing issues of the day. Like any hit production, much of the work, from mopping the floors to flipping the socks, takes place offstage, out of the eyes of the adoring public. So I would like you all to join me in thanking those benign dictators, my Adminions, who work so hard for the sole reward of making us happy.

Take leagl, Admin Emeritus and Jewish Lesbian Activist Pornographer, our own Al Goldstein. Thank you, leagl, for your outstanding, selfless service. We will always think of the children because of you.

And then e/o, though semi-retired, we will always remember you for your brutally efficient, ruthless sock busting and genre-inspiring ass. And your after-acl sex parties. Thanks (I think), e/o!

Then we have the beautiful and talented RT, the icing of calm on a cake in the stormy gravy boat ocean of lawtalkers. You are the lighthouse that lights our way through the darkness of the gravy and onto the smooth fluffy mashed potatoes on the plate of home-cooked goodness that . . . well, anyway, thanks RT!

MR. What to say about MR? I really don't know what he does, but he probably does something. Thanks, MR, for whatever the fuck it is that you do!

And then there's slave. Ah, slave. The last time I saw him, he was drinking rhythmicgymnastinis on Death Disco Night at Mission. He was standing at the bar between Granty Panty and Spencer Product. Even among the glitterati on the hippest night in the hottest bar in the most fashionable city the world has ever known, he shined brighter than the morning sun on a 7 a.m. hangover. I could just barely make out the conversation.

"I don't see why anyone even cares about this British stuff,"
said Spencer condescendingly. "Why anyone cares about a country whose great contribution to culture is FHM and Maxim is beyond me."

"Duh. Collin Farrell, helloooo!" giggled Granty.

The hurt I felt upon seeing him was immediate. I would have avoided him altogether in the slim hope of finding someone more attractive than he to make out with in front of him, but even on the hippest night in the hottest bar in the most fashionable city the world, there were no suitable prospects. Left with the shame of knowing I'd been publicly dumped so he could bugger a tiger, and an inbred mutant one at that, I contemplated leaving.

Then our eyes locked. His piercing gaze penetrating through my very existince. I was powerless to move as he sauntered my way.

"Sorry it had to be like this," he said.

"But I thought we had something," I pleaded. "I thought we were soulmates!"

"We were, but my soul changes with the season and you lost yours to the pawn shop. Cheer up. We'll always have that night in the frat. Take care, shape. You look like shit."

He tousled my hair and I watched through tears as he disappeared on the dance floor. Then it occurred to me that some beings are too great to be horded by one individual like a piece of gum, they must be shared, like music or really good weed. And that made me feel better.

Then I went outside and keyed his car. That made me feel even better.

Thanks for putting up with us, slave.

[Pretty Little Flower]

Originally posted by evenodds
Theres and Thats is Greedy.

Anttwat is Not From Here.

Now, go away with the sock bullshit.

Dissent! Those two were GREAT socks! I especially liked how T and T employed the old reverse sock metaphor - likening the cyber-sock back to an actual real life sock - and then went on and on about how it got dirty and left in the sheets, or in the overnight bag. You know that totally happens in real life! Anyhoo, both of you socks will totally be missed.

<sniff>

<sniff>

[SlaveNoMore]

Shape Shifter
And then there's slave. Ah, slave. The last time I saw him, he was drinking rhythmicgymnastinis on Death Disco Night at Mission. He was standing at the bar between Granty Panty and Spencer Product. Even among the glitterati on the hippest night in the hottest bar in the most fashionable city the world has ever known, he shined brighter than the morning sun on a 7 a.m. hangover. I could just barely make out the conversation.

"I don't see why anyone even cares about this British stuff,"
said Spencer condescendingly. "Why anyone cares about a country whose great contribution to culture is FHM and Maxim is beyond me."

"Duh. Collin Farrell, helloooo!" giggled Granty.

The hurt I felt upon seeing him was immediate. I would have avoided him altogether in the slim hope of finding someone more attractive than he to make out with in front of him, but even on the hippest night in the hottest bar in the most fashionable city the world, there were no suitable prospects. Left with the shame of knowing I'd been publicly dumped so he could bugger a tiger, and an inbred mutant one at that, I contemplated leaving.

Then our eyes locked. His piercing gaze penetrating through my very existince. I was powerless to move as he sauntered my way.

"Sorry it had to be like this," he said.

"But I thought we had something," I pleaded. "I thought we were soulmates!"

"We were, but my soul changes with the season and you lost yours to the pawn shop. Cheer up. We'll always have that night in the frat. Take care, shape. You look like shit."

He tousled my hair and I watched through tears as he disappeared on the dance floor. Then it occurred to me that some beings are too great to be horded by one individual like a piece of gum, they must be shared, like music or really good weed. And that made me feel better.

Then I went outside and keyed his car. That made me feel even better.

Thanks for putting up with us, slave.

It was the End Up, not Mission.

And thank god for Earl Scheib. Any Car, Any Time, $199.95

[Alex_de_Large]

Originally posted by Shape Shifter
As some may have noticed, there has been some controversy involving the board lately. Many times it is easy to get bogged down in immediate issues and we begin to lose focus on what's really important. Recent events have caused me to reflect on what is truly important on this board: cock rings, double anal, TITS!, shavey bouncers, paigow [sniff] and penske [sniff], spinsters and cougars, bottle-knocking frat cats, my beautiful beautiful penis, and more TITS! And sometimes politics.

Yes, this board is an invaluable forum to discuss the pressing issues of the day. Like any hit production, much of the work, from mopping the floors to flipping the socks, takes place offstage, out of the eyes of the adoring public. So I would like you all to join me in thanking those benign dictators, my Adminions, who work so hard for the sole reward of making us happy.

Take leagl, Admin Emeritus and Jewish Lesbian Activist Pornographer, our own Al Goldstein. Thank you, leagl, for your outstanding, selfless service. We will always think of the children because of you.

And then e/o, though semi-retired, we will always remember you for your brutally efficient, ruthless sock busting and genre-inspiring ass. And your after-acl sex parties. Thanks (I think), e/o!

Then we have the beautiful and talented RT, the icing of calm on a cake in the stormy gravy boat ocean of lawtalkers. You are the lighthouse that lights our way through the darkness of the gravy and onto the smooth fluffy mashed potatoes on the plate of home-cooked goodness that . . . well, anyway, thanks RT!

MR. What to say about MR? I really don't know what he does, but he probably does something. Thanks, MR, for whatever the fuck it is that you do!

And then there's slave. Ah, slave. The last time I saw him, he was drinking rhythmicgymnastinis on Death Disco Night at Mission. He was standing at the bar between Granty Panty and Spencer Product. Even among the glitterati on the hippest night in the hottest bar in the most fashionable city the world has ever known, he shined brighter than the morning sun on a 7 a.m. hangover. I could just barely make out the conversation.

"I don't see why anyone even cares about this British stuff,"
said Spencer condescendingly. "Why anyone cares about a country whose great contribution to culture is FHM and Maxim is beyond me."

"Duh. Collin Farrell, helloooo!" giggled Granty.

The hurt I felt upon seeing him was immediate. I would have avoided him altogether in the slim hope of finding someone more attractive than he to make out with in front of him, but even on the hippest night in the hottest bar in the most fashionable city the world, there were no suitable prospects. Left with the shame of knowing I'd been publicly dumped so he could bugger a tiger, and an inbred mutant one at that, I contemplated leaving.

Then our eyes locked. His piercing gaze penetrating through my very existince. I was powerless to move as he sauntered my way.

"Sorry it had to be like this," he said.

"But I thought we had something," I pleaded. "I thought we were soulmates!"

"We were, but my soul changes with the season and you lost yours to the pawn shop. Cheer up. We'll always have that night in the frat. Take care, shape. You look like shit."

He tousled my hair and I watched through tears as he disappeared on the dance floor. Then it occurred to me that some beings are too great to be horded by one individual like a piece of gum, they must be shared, like music or really good weed. And that made me feel better.

Then I went outside and keyed his car. That made me feel even better.

Thanks for putting up with us, slave.

Bravo

[evenodds]

Originally posted by The Dryer Thread
Should I be scared? I feel liked I'm being permanently pressed out of existence!

Coltrane, why are you never this funny under your own moniker?

[Shape Shifter]

Originally posted by evenodds
Coltrane, why are you never this funny under your own moniker?

Coltrane, see the e/o part of my post, supra, re: e/o's sock flipping.

[Did you just call me Coltrane?]

Originally posted by evenodds
Coltrane, why are you never this funny under your own moniker?

I don't like the limelight. My sobriquet really lets me explore the studio space.

[Mister_Ruysbroeck]

Originally posted by Shape Shifter

MR. What to say about MR? I really don't know what he does, but he probably does something. Thanks, MR, for whatever the fuck it is that you do!

You mean aside from picking my nose a lot?