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The_Young_Swell
Over 90 days ago
Straight Male
Canada

Forum

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Merry Pickle-Pants



So what is this thing against people born in September?

You think getting stuck with being a Virgo isn't sufficiently traumatizing?
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Previous generations developed the “Whoopee Cushion,” predicated upon embarrassing others by producing the sound of flatulence when the cushion was sat upon. Contemporary devices are portable, and are meant to be set off by the jokester him/herself, thereby making him/her the butt, so to speak, of his/her own practical joke.

There's a thesis for a research paper on societal acceptance of flatulence, possibly all bodily functions, lurking in there somewhere, but one would most likely have to use it to wipe up after all the research.
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This lad may well be a relative to the ginger-hackled terrorist who received third-degree burns to his lips while trying to blow up a politician's car.

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As this is a writing site, GingerKitty, I like to post something every now and then which requires literacy.

And I'm not a Mr. I'm a The.
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Man: What you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg, sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg, bacon and spam; egg, bacon, sausage and spam; spam, bacon, sausage and spam; spam, egg, spam, spam, bacon and spam; spam, sausage, spam, spam, spam, bacon, spam, tomato and spam; spam, spam, spam, egg and spam; spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam, egg, sausage and spam. That's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want any spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg, bacon, spam and sausage?

Wife: That's got spam in it.

Man: It hasn't got as much spam in it as spam, egg, sausage and spam has it?

Wife: Could you do me egg, bacon, spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Ech!

Wife: What do you mean ech! I don't like spam!

Waitress: You can't have egg, bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Shhh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam and spam.

Waitress: Shut up! Baked beans are off.

Man:
Well, can I have her spam instead of the baked beans?

Waitress: You mean spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, and spam?



Poster's Note: I removed the Vikings, no one wants Vikings with their spam.
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Quote by slipperywhenwet2012
This is hilarious. But did they honestly think this would make the Super Bowl?


I have concluded that several of the edgier advertising agencies are creating on-line ads, purporting to be television commercials, which they know are beyond the pale for broadcast TV. These generate notoriety, so people purposefully search out the ads on YouTube, etc. and expose themselves to the sponsor's message. The sponsor pays only for the agency's efforts producing the ads, not the bigger expense of buying blocks of television time in which to air the commercials.

Everybody wins except the broadcasting companies.
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Roses are red,
But cactus are prickly.
One tastes rather tangy,
The other is squickly.



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Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
If you won't take my flowers,
I'll just chew on my bone.
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Picking just ten is a problem, but chronologically:


A Night at the Opera - Marx Brothers (1935)
Ball of Fire - Barbara Stanwyck & Gary Cooper (1941)
Kiss Them for Me - Cary Grant & Jayne Mansfield (1957)
Some Like It Hot - Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis & Jack Lemmon (1959)
Dr. Strangelove - Peter Sellers & George C. Scott (1964)
A New Leaf - Walter Matthau & Elaine May (1971)
Silver Streak - Gene Wilder, Jill Clayburgh & Richard Pryor (1976)
Uncle Buck - John Candy & Macaulay Culkin (1989)
Groundhog Day - Bill Murray & Andie MacDowell (1993)
Idiocracy - Luke Wilson & Maya Rudolph (2006)
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EllaFitz points out one problem with historical figures. Another would be that we only know of their personal lives what they, their supporters, or their enemies left behind in reports, and precious little of that can be depended upon as truthful.

Nonetheless, I think I should have enjoyed having a go at Good Queen Bess — I mean before Elizabeth became a professional virgin, lost her hair and all that. I like strong-willed women, even if they are a little hot at hand. H o w e v e r, I should also require a handy egress, as I don’t think I should have enjoyed being bunged up in the Tower of London, over much.
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Variation on a Theme by Trinket

Rose are shut the fuck up,
Violets are fuck the shut up,
Fuck up the shut.
Shut fuck the up.
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Quote by dex69
I think the best thing in the 80's was when Ronald Reagan was President. Now that was a man who didn't take shit from anyone.


No, no! Surely you remember Ronald Reagan. He played bass guitar in The Fraggle Rock band. At least, he did until he could no longer recall the cords

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Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
We won’t go to bed.
‘Cause you don’t need the flu.
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My Olympic participation is being kept to a minimum this time around. It's just to exhausting after my vacation.

However, if any of the pole girls decide to start a ring-toss competition, I'm willing to lie on my back and play goal.
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My Olympic participation is being kept to a minimum this time around. It's just too exhausting after my vacation.

However, if any of the pole girls decide to start a ring-toss competition, I'm willing to lie on my back and play goal.
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Rather than Marc Riboud's photograph "La Jeune Fille a la Fleur," I would have chosen Bernie Boston's 1967 Pulitzer Prize photograph "Flower Power" as the more moving confrontation between armed police and 1960s war protesters.


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Just back from three weeks in cottage country where I was almost completely unplugged from the world-wide weave. While I haven’t actually caught up on what all has been happening at RUMPLATIONS while I’ve been gone, merely casting my eye over the backlog assures me that there has been a definite lack of loud, thumping music.

So, here it is:

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A rose is a rose,
Queen Anne’s Lace, wild carrot.
If I were a poet
I’d stave in a garret.