I did, Alaskan, but I felt sorry for the poor woman, losing her vegetables and being laughed at when she needed help, but at least it had a happy ending, I like turnips....
*sigh* I'm loosing my touch. (Warning: Hi-jacked by Em)
- Thread starter Chickengal505
- Start date
I don't know about that "stare" stuff...it got me in trouble.
I was staring at this good looking woman at Wal Mart.
I don't think she liked it. She called the manager. The
manager called the cops. The cops made me leave.
I was giving her my best stare. I must be getting old,
loosing my touch.
It use to work...
Spook
I was staring at this good looking woman at Wal Mart.
I don't think she liked it. She called the manager. The
manager called the cops. The cops made me leave.
I was giving her my best stare. I must be getting old,
loosing my touch.
It use to work...
Spook
Was that Mrs. Spook?
I know this is the wrong thread for my question...
But when a child is homeschooled and graduates...
do they walk across the living room? Do the parents
build a stage?
Spook did the public school thing. I think I graduated.
But it was the 70's...and I kinda sorta missed the 70's.
But talking about missing the 70's...
I read in the paper today where some people in Washington
are adding the unused parts of the marijuana plant to their
chicken feed.
They claim the chicken really puts on the pounds. Guess it gets
the munchies....gives a whole new meaning to "chicken pot pies".
Spook.
But when a child is homeschooled and graduates...
do they walk across the living room? Do the parents
build a stage?
Spook did the public school thing. I think I graduated.
But it was the 70's...and I kinda sorta missed the 70's.
But talking about missing the 70's...
I read in the paper today where some people in Washington
are adding the unused parts of the marijuana plant to their
chicken feed.
They claim the chicken really puts on the pounds. Guess it gets
the munchies....gives a whole new meaning to "chicken pot pies".
Spook.
Wisher, I don't know if you listen to Jon Boy and Billy in the mornings but I heard this on their show this morning:
A flasher went into a grocery store. He took a can of fruit cocktail to the cashier. As she was ringing it up, he opened his coat and put his "junk" on the counter. When the cashier realized what he had done, she immediately picked up the can and brought it sharply down on said "junk". The flasher passed out. He came to after the police had arrived. One of the police officers looked at him and said, "You should have bought a loaf of bread!"
hope the mods don't get me for this one, but I thought it was funny.....
On a totally different note: Anyone seen the Queen
? I've been reading to catch up and noticed she hasn't posted. Also, Sour can you PLEASE send some broody magic toward southern WV???? PLEASE???? Hopefully it will hit here and not NC.
.
We have Amish here that make HUGGGEEE donuts!!! They call them wagon wheels. They are so yummy!! uh...please excuse me while I go get a Krispy Kreme glazed donut out of the fridge.....I miss the fresh ones I used to get when I lived in NC...The lemon filled ones are to die for!! OOOOHHHH!! And the Key Lime Pie ones!! And the custard filled ones (not the white kreme filled ones..yech!) oh man, now I'm hungry!!
Silly Spook!! You have no need to stand on the dictionary and all the other books!! You are a spook! You can float up as high as you want! But make sure you have something on under the sheet.....
A flasher went into a grocery store. He took a can of fruit cocktail to the cashier. As she was ringing it up, he opened his coat and put his "junk" on the counter. When the cashier realized what he had done, she immediately picked up the can and brought it sharply down on said "junk". The flasher passed out. He came to after the police had arrived. One of the police officers looked at him and said, "You should have bought a loaf of bread!"
On a totally different note: Anyone seen the Queen
We have Amish here that make HUGGGEEE donuts!!! They call them wagon wheels. They are so yummy!! uh...please excuse me while I go get a Krispy Kreme glazed donut out of the fridge.....I miss the fresh ones I used to get when I lived in NC...The lemon filled ones are to die for!! OOOOHHHH!! And the Key Lime Pie ones!! And the custard filled ones (not the white kreme filled ones..yech!) oh man, now I'm hungry!!
Silly Spook!! You have no need to stand on the dictionary and all the other books!! You are a spook! You can float up as high as you want! But make sure you have something on under the sheet.....
onedoodle,
Alaskan has also wondered where Queen has gone.... you don't think she fell into the moat, do you?
Wisher,
OK, what about LIMERICKS? Or Haiku?
Alaskan .... who is strong enough to scare snow into melting and incubators into heating
Alaskan has also wondered where Queen has gone.... you don't think she fell into the moat, do you?
Wisher,
OK, what about LIMERICKS? Or Haiku?
Alaskan .... who is strong enough to scare snow into melting and incubators into heating
Is it raining at your place, 1doodle?
Poured here a bit ago, heading your way.
Poured here a bit ago, heading your way.
We've had a few showers but not much. Had a horrible storm go through last night though. A friend of mine in Kingsport, TN said they were having severe storms there today. I figured we would get some rain out of those (since we usually do) but we've just had sprinkles and light showers tonight. I'm glad. I am terrified of storms. I was in a 15-passenger van that flipped after encountering the leading edge of a line of severe storms back in the early '90's. Right after the rescue people (Thank you to all Rescue personnel out there!!!) got us out of the van, the sky got black as coal with an erie green tint. They made us get in the ditch and covered us with blankets. It wasn't but just a few minutes after that, a tornado went through the field about 1/2 mile away. Ever since then, Doodle has been terrified of storms!
But a funny happened after we were taken to the hospital. They had strapped me on a back board with a neck brace on because I did not remember the van flipping over and had been hit in the head by the huge cases of inventory equipment that HAD been in the seat behind me. They took me to Cape Fear Valley Hospital where a nurse called my parents and let them know I had been in a bad wreck and they needed to come to the hospital. Wellll, as of that morning, I had worked 2 months and 3 days without a day off. I was going through my divorce and was trying to make any extra money I could so I could get my bills paid off. I was tired that morning and I told my father I would love to have a day off. Just an off the cuff remark. When the doctor finally discharged me, a nurse wheeled me into the waiting room of the ER where my parents were. The waiting room was packed. My father saw me, stood up, and immediately said in a VERY loud voice, "Well, you'll do anything for a day off, won't you!!" He got quite a few laughs out of the others waiting.
Sorry for the long post...
Alaskan, the Queen
knows her way around the moats...she would not fall in....now someone may have PUSHED her in....hmmm, search party at the moats.....As Minion #2, I hereby decree all inhabitants of the Queen's
Kingdom to proceed forthwith to the moats with flashlights to begin a search for the Queen
. If she has been pushed in the moats, the traitor must be found and the Royal Executioner must perform his duties and "Off with his/her head!!!"
But a funny happened after we were taken to the hospital. They had strapped me on a back board with a neck brace on because I did not remember the van flipping over and had been hit in the head by the huge cases of inventory equipment that HAD been in the seat behind me. They took me to Cape Fear Valley Hospital where a nurse called my parents and let them know I had been in a bad wreck and they needed to come to the hospital. Wellll, as of that morning, I had worked 2 months and 3 days without a day off. I was going through my divorce and was trying to make any extra money I could so I could get my bills paid off. I was tired that morning and I told my father I would love to have a day off. Just an off the cuff remark. When the doctor finally discharged me, a nurse wheeled me into the waiting room of the ER where my parents were. The waiting room was packed. My father saw me, stood up, and immediately said in a VERY loud voice, "Well, you'll do anything for a day off, won't you!!" He got quite a few laughs out of the others waiting.
Sorry for the long post...
Alaskan, the Queen
- Jan 5, 2013
- 133
- 2
- 71
Gosh I hope your order for broody magic does not hit us here in NC Doodle!
Splish (a splash silky hen) was broody for the longest time, we only broke her by actually giving her an egg to hatch. And since we don't really have any eggs for her to hatch at the moment we really don't need her going back into bluff I-will-kill-you-if-you-reach-your-hand-in-here mode. She never actually bites, like I said, she just bluffs, fluffs up and growls.
Sure hope the queen didn't fall in the moat... there are an awful lot of nightmarish creatures in there... And god willing let her not have fallen in the salt water moat! I believe I may have lost some Sea Lampreys in there while attempting to take them back to my gaming den as a snack.
Splish (a splash silky hen) was broody for the longest time, we only broke her by actually giving her an egg to hatch. And since we don't really have any eggs for her to hatch at the moment we really don't need her going back into bluff I-will-kill-you-if-you-reach-your-hand-in-here mode. She never actually bites, like I said, she just bluffs, fluffs up and growls.
Sure hope the queen didn't fall in the moat... there are an awful lot of nightmarish creatures in there... And god willing let her not have fallen in the salt water moat! I believe I may have lost some Sea Lampreys in there while attempting to take them back to my gaming den as a snack.
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Wisher, here ya go....If this doesn't get you to laugh, I don't know what will. This was on my Facebook page posted by a friend. She found it on pinterest....
found this on pinterest..........i got tears rolling down my face! ladies.... gotta read this!
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it’s the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that’s “Silent But Deadly” for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That’s when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good.
He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I’m not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn’t want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a 15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms.
We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn’t allowed myself to eat in years. I didn’t want to be “that girl” so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That’s when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways – uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn’t feeling well and probably needed to head home.
On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn’t having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks. Then I realized …
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.
HOW DO YOU TELL A MAN YOU JUST STARTED DATING, THAT THE REASON YOU ARE WRITHING IN PAIN IS BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO FART.
The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard.
“Seriously, you need to hurry – I’m in a lot of pain.” I managed to say through gritted teeth.
“Wow, it’s that bad? What’s wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you’re writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out. The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced its way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I’m home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud. Not in a, “am I smelling something?” sort of way. More like a “is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?” sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. “Roll down the windows!” I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
“What? Why?” Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
“I can’t roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!”
“What’s going on?” Rob yells back to me, “Why are you …” then it hit him. I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, “Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!” he screamed.
“Roll down the windows!” As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows. We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way.
He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, “Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!” and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob’s voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
“Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?”
“Get away from the door!” I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist.
“Ok, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
“I’m fine, Rob – just leave the shoes there. I’ll call you later okay?”
“Okay, are you sure you’re …”
“I’m fine! Get away from the door!”
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin’ hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I’d hear from him. I didn’t think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours.
But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we’re married and he’s lying on the couch while I type this … “It was your rack that saved you,” he just lovingly reminded me.
found this on pinterest..........i got tears rolling down my face! ladies.... gotta read this!
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it’s the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that’s “Silent But Deadly” for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That’s when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good.
He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I’m not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn’t want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a 15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms.
We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn’t allowed myself to eat in years. I didn’t want to be “that girl” so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That’s when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways – uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn’t feeling well and probably needed to head home.
On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn’t having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks. Then I realized …
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.
HOW DO YOU TELL A MAN YOU JUST STARTED DATING, THAT THE REASON YOU ARE WRITHING IN PAIN IS BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO FART.
The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard.
“Seriously, you need to hurry – I’m in a lot of pain.” I managed to say through gritted teeth.
“Wow, it’s that bad? What’s wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you’re writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out. The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced its way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I’m home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud. Not in a, “am I smelling something?” sort of way. More like a “is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?” sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. “Roll down the windows!” I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
“What? Why?” Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
“I can’t roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!”
“What’s going on?” Rob yells back to me, “Why are you …” then it hit him. I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, “Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!” he screamed.
“Roll down the windows!” As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows. We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way.
He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, “Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!” and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob’s voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
“Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?”
“Get away from the door!” I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist.
“Ok, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
“I’m fine, Rob – just leave the shoes there. I’ll call you later okay?”
“Okay, are you sure you’re …”
“I’m fine! Get away from the door!”
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin’ hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I’d hear from him. I didn’t think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours.
But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we’re married and he’s lying on the couch while I type this … “It was your rack that saved you,” he just lovingly reminded me.
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