They can do heaps of stuff- unlock my car, unlock my front door, open and shut the gates at work, even open my post office box to see what mail I've got.
So lets face it, we've all been to the rodeo a few times. Its always the same, you look through profile pics until you feel nauseas from the irritating sameness that you cant quite put your finger on... Then it becomes clear- majority of women on internet dating have their head tilted slightly to one side. Then the ones with their heads straight ahead look like lesbians or serial killers. However, I'm also wondering if they are less valued by society if they have a kink in their necks. I just dont know any more.
You know exactly who you are, and so does everybody else. So enjoy.
That they are putting dog food into the meat pies, the baker reckons he's been doing it for years. And he also reckons he never washes his hands after backing one out, because nobody has complained so far.
Whilst driving along the motorway the other day, I felt the vehicle was steering ever so slightly to the left. Whenst I was checking the relative positioning of my testicles I noticed the one on the left was sitting slightly lower than the right. By positioning a cigarette packet under the left testicle hence raising it, I noticed the vehicle started tracking in a straight line again, which was lucky considering I was towing a car trailer at the time. And it saved me valuable money on a wheel realignment.
She had been on the dating site for several months now, and had been planning to write a blog which unbeknownst to her would change things forever. There were several topics of interest to her, as she often liked to lounge around on the couch sensuously reading books. Sometimes the books would get covered in squished up strawberries much to the chagrin of the library staff but that's a story for another time.
Architecture in Sweden was a favourite subject of hers and so off she went, all this crap about surfeits and architraves or something. It really was of little interest, but she knew deep down that this was exactly the right bait to get the response she was after.
She couldn't eat or sleep properly, and kept checking the blog anxiously. Around three in the afternoon, it appeared. "I wouldnt worry too much about that, really". She paced up and down the hallway like a cage tiger, in complete disbelief. This was the best thing that had ever happened to her in her entire life, but she had to check it out more thoroughly. So she got her grandmothers spectacles and put them on, but they just made everything big and wobbly and gave her a headache.
In bed later that night, she had a fitfull sleep, worrying about if he had started worrying about something else. So she set her alarm for 5am, to get up early and see. Fortunately, there was a rather boring blog about some aristocracy in some far flung place where they make tyres probably, and to her sheer delight there it was for all to see "Yeah,nah, not really worried". There was a take home message but it seemed to go in one ear and out the other.
It all started the other day when I noticed my letter box was slightly crooked. Normally, I wouldnt worry too much about that kind of thing but seeing as its almost christmas I thought I'd better fix it. So I got my hammer and nails and set about fixing it. All of a sudden, I hit my thumb with the hammer and it hurt like crazy.
I didnt know what to do, but I had heard them talking about medical cannabis and so I thought it might be for the best. I asked a bloke at the pub if he could ask his mate down the road for a bag. I had some, and I had a bit more for good measure. My thumb was feeling a lot better by now.
My neighbour stuck his head over the fence and asked if it was medical cannabis he could smell, because he had a sore elbow and wanted to have a go at it. Just then his wife Gladys piped up that she had a sore finger from gardening and so she'd like some too. Then all the neighbours came forward with all kinds of ailments and sores, the house reeked of pot.
There was a big commotion as somebody set fire to some tyres out the front, The police and the fire brigade turned up, all claiming to have some kind of sickness that only weed could fix. The ambulance guys turned up, and although they werent sick they did a swap with some goodies from the medicine cabinet. By now all my pot had run out and so the police brought out some devastatingly strong evidence, and the ambulance guys were giving out the oxys like lollies.
By this stage the fire brigade guys were having a massive waterfight, the cops were doing filthy demos up and down the street, and the ambulance guys were collapsed with half a dozen syringes in their necks. Everybody else was trying to sleep.
I don't like zindagi, it always gets caught in my teeth.
you decide to go out for a drive in your shorty shorts, and you slam your balls in the car door?
How should they be quantified and measured? Kilo's? inches? score out of ten? maybe a simple yes/no?
I'm just so confused about it and I dont know who to turn to for support.
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