HOLY SHIT IT IS THE KITCHEN UTENSIL THAT IS GETTING ME MODERATED! I just tried to post the same comment, with the kitchen utensil which must not be named tacked on to the end. Does it have a strange deviant meaning I’m unaware of?
#1 is what happens when stupid people collaborate, and one idiot thinks they’re just a tad brighter than the other morons.
I can’t saying “C”rying pan, but I can say that I put hot sauce in my dog’s anus and had my elderly neighbor with glaucoma lick it out, while I rubbed sandpaper on her backside because she had diarrhea trickling down all over the place.
And just for the record, the present active tense of the verb that explains what the kitchen utensil that must not be named is used for, also just got me modded. Cuh. Razy.
Soupy, I was so truly hoping the site thing would be true. I googled it, and the domain came up as having been registered / purchased yesterday. Is it possible someone else has your exact same desirous thoughts about our lovely Ms. Wordy?
Miss Shegas, if it happened, it wasn’t me. It is entirely possible that someone else is breaking out a (tiny) cockblock to ruin my dreams. I just wanted to unequivocally state my intentions, and also remind myself to maintain a repository for all the potential photo/video evidence of our encounter(s).
I drink a lot (A LOT!), so I often have holes in my memory that can only be covered by writing down my actions/goals. A web address is as good as any other notation, so I take advantage of the technology. If you’re not careful to be less of a fascinating woman, missshegas’spussyexplodesduetosoup’sminstrations.com will soon be online.
Ohhh Soup, you’re my hero. One day, I aspire to be like you, and I believe i’ve already got the drinking down to a fine art, shotguns, beer bongs, beer pong, Eric Clapton’s (half beer, half vodka for those who don’t know), Strikeouts, and a variety of other rules that force you to drink stupid amounts of alcohol if you’re not careful around your friends.
Your effort is admirable, but true reckless drinking only requires yourself and a case/bottle, and a glass. Friends might not be available, but booze is always there. Enveloping. Cottony. Like being in your mama’s bosom. Heaven.
The joke (very bad):
Asians that refuse to grow up = the Pan that fries
The pan that fries = Flying Pan
Flying pan = Peter Pan
Quite a stretch I know, but I can’t be about bleeding assholes on every post.
As for the web thing, check the link in my blue name.
Wise words oh Soupy one. Enjoying a brew right now, though I gotta admit I drink a lot more casually on my own. That work thing makes hangovers a bitch. Though there have been a number of occasions where i’ve gotten sick at work. My favourite was when I left halfway through the day and puked out the side of my car at a main intersection before making it one more block and upchucking again after pulling over. It was when some people followed me off to the side of the road and asked if I was ok when I told them “Don’t worry, i’m a professional.” Ohhh, the memories.
Oh Word, you’re so cute when you’re confused. With your nose all crinkled up and your head tilted to the side.
I just plugged the words into my profile. It’s a nonexistent site (for now). Try http://www.soupisthegreatestloverever.com. It’s the same thing. These domain names could be registered, but they haven’t been (for now).
@nuff, many years ago I used to drive a mattress delivery truck. I had to be in at 8:00 am on Saturdays, but I didn’t like to ruin my Fridays by actually being rested for my shift. So I’d drive straight from whatever party I was at to work, and sleep in my car. My boss would wake me up in the parking lot, be disgusted by my boozy stench, and then demand that I drive his 20,000lb vehicle and be the face of his company. He had a bad business model.
I’m really lucky with one of my earlier jobs in life where I worked at a car body shop. Still had my L at the time, but that combined with a hangover translated into a few mishaps along the way. It was convenient that they repaired the damage I caused along with what originally needed to be done. Bumper to bumper, back end into wall, bumper into trailer hitch… Hmmmm…. What else can I remember? Best part was that I never got fired. I quit because they weren’t paying me enough. There’s some beer logic there.
…I need to go clean up now. ’68 GTO? A case of beer and I get to drive it and i’ll git-r-done ASAP. Mind you, my experience is limited in that area though seeing as i’ve moved on to other things, but god damn do I want that car!
And by die, you mean drive it off a cliff with the top down completely wasted? A good way to go! At least you’ll do it in style. Alas, I must go to sleep. Good luck with the restoration! Night Soup, and night word.
At FIRST I thought the group was some kind of twist on the women/sandwich joke, but it turns OUT the creator of the group just has a disease which means they must capitalize random WORDS.
For no reason.