Hey TBG, and Foamy,.. Remember when..

[Thestarider]

[woodworker]

It's funny to me, but when I lived in Detroit, we didn't call a soft drink a soda either, it was a pop.    And when I came here to Texas in 1977, they called a paper bag a sack.   "Would you like that in a sack?"   And with a cute face behind that question, it all just sort of made me smile at times.

But the one thing I do know is that cocksucker, and asshole, are universal expressions not foreign to any parts of the continental states.   Except for maybe in California, where they are used, but in a different form of context.

For example, It wouldn't be unusual or seen as derogatory for someone walking down the street in California to greet someone with a customary, "Good morning cocksucker, how are you today?"    Or, "No sir, It wasn't me, but that other asshole your referring to."

If you doubt my word, just ask Foamy, he'll tell ya.    He calls everyone out there an asshole and cocksucker. 

 

[Foamy T. Squirrel]

11 hours ago, woodworker said:

For example, It wouldn't be unusual or seen as derogatory for someone walking down the street in California to greet someone with a customary, "Good morning cocksucker, how are you today?"    Or, "No sir, It wasn't me, but that other asshole your referring to."

If you doubt my word, just ask Foamy, he'll tell ya.    He calls everyone out there an asshole and cocksucker.

Asshole and cocksucker are now meaningless sounds. Words lose their obscene ring when you say them repeatedly while stuck in LA traffic.

[StnCld316]

On ‎2016‎-‎06‎-‎08 at 6:13 PM, HarleyFatboy said:

Yes sir, Texan through and through!   Just call me the bottom man lol.  I live quite a bit South of "H" town WW.   So as it turns out WW is top man, you are middle man, and once again I am bottom man LMAO!   Same shit.....different day.

 

 

No Offense to anyone from Texas.  This is just out of Humor when someone mentioned Texas  this part of the Full Metal Jacket Movie Clip came to mind.

[corboblanc]

il y a une heure, Foamy T. Squirrel a dit :

Asshole et cocksucker sont maintenant des sons sans signification. Les mots perdent leur anneau obscène quand vous leur dites à plusieurs reprises tout coincé dans le trafic LA.

oui, cela doit-être un peu comme se permettre de dire qu'une fille qui fait du porno est une salope ou une chienne. les mots perdent leur caractère obscène, puisqu'ils démontrent une vérité.....

yes, it must be a bit like afford to say that a girl who makes porn is a slut or a bitch. words lose their obscene, they demonstrate a truth .....

[woodworker]

I told this story ages ago around here.   A story that is honest and true on all counts, but that also invokes a funny sort of memory for me.

It was back in1969.  When Dennis and I were up in Michigan and doing a little hunting. 

However, Dennis was not with me at the time of this event, as I had left him behind in the cabin while I went out to do some scouting around.   

I hadn't gone that far into the woods when suddenly I spied a skunk that had just come out from under some brush.   And I was struck by how much bigger they seem to be when confronted in real life.   But then suddenly the furry bastard locked eyes upon me as I quickly raised my shotgun up.   

It was a paralyzing moment frocked with tension.   He now with his tail up, and I, with the bead of my gun now firmly planted upon his ass, as we both just stood there motionless together, in what had now presented itself as something of a Mexican stand off. 

In real time it was probably not more than maybe ten or fifteen seconds.   But it was quite memorable, as I felt my finger resting up against the trigger and was about to blow his insides out.  My nerves kept steady, but the tension was high.  And yet in my heart, I didn't really want it to have to come to that.   And somehow, throughout all of this I could sense that within that tiny little brain of his, he too felt the same way, and was looking or hoping for an amiable way to let this sudden threat subside.

I was quite taken by that, as he surely could have just let loose and sprayed his stink all over me at the time.   But I think he must have realized by the look on my face, that that would have been a fatal move on his part.  For if he had let loose this spray, it would not have gotten but maybe half way towards it's intended mark before it would have been met by a volley of regret from my side.     

Anyway, something inside me finally decided to let the barrel of my gun come down.    And very soon afterwards to my great relief I saw his tail do likewise.    As he once again began to waddle away back through the thick underbrush from whence he had first sprung.

For me it was a startling encounter that left me feeling uncomfortable for a while.   But due to his gentle nature and wise disposition, this chance meeting between us had a happy ending for us both, and that for me was quite a surprise.  

 

 

 

         

 

[HarleyFatboy]

You probably wouldn't get away so easy these days WW.....the skunks of the 2000's are much more aggressive lol.

[HarleyFatboy]

7 minutes ago, woodworker said:

Well, I might have caught some stink, but they would have been wearing a new coat of pink, if the skunks of today are not as smart as that one was. 

Contrary to popular belief lol, that is one stink that you can get off!  I was bowhunting for hogs in deep South Texas one year and got sprayed by a skunk that I caught off guard.  It didn't get much on me, but I was able to get the smell off with lots off soapy, as hot as you could stand it water.  I should have stuck an arrow in the damn thing but I let him walk!!

[HarleyFatboy]

2 minutes ago, woodworker said:

I saw in a movie once where these pioneer people used tomatoes, lots of them, to lessen the smell from them.  

I must have missed that movie and wasn't about to drive 50 miles to get a bunch of tomatoes to do the job with lol.  When your way out in the brush country of South Texas you have to do what you can do lol.   The funny thing is, the smell came off of me rather quickly but my clothes were a bitch!

[woodworker]

Hey guys, remember when we first had "Earth Day" at school?

For me it was back in1968 at high school.   I had this black idiot of a science teacher named, Mister Gerard.  It was the only time that I ever had a science teacher that was so full of shit.  

Anyway, He didn't like me much either.   But one day he went into this almost hysterical diatribe about good old mother Earth.

It was for me anyway, the first proposed onslaught of the liberal nonsense they now call "Climate Change."   They use to call it "Global Warming", until they were recently proven wrong on that with these satellite photos showing how the polar ice caps were now actually growing.   So they have quickly changed the descriptive title of their propaganda to the current "Climate Change."

Anyway, this asshole was so eaten up by it all, that he actually issued these pin buttons that he wanted all of us to wear.   It simply said, "Celebrating Earth Day"  with a cute picture of the world behind the silly caption. 

He was adamant and took on an angry tone in this, saying to everyone,.. "And if you don't come in here tomorrow wearing this button, you will fail my course!"                 

Well I don't like others telling me what I have to do, if it isn't something that within my own common sense or logic tells me is truly for a good reason.    

So the next day I walked into Mister Gerard's class, and he quickly, with an air of hostility pounced upon me and while pointing and shaking his boney finger not more than two feet away from me, screamed out,..

.."WHERE'S YOUR BUTTON?"   "DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO WEAR YOUR BUTTON?"    

Trust me, he was completely unhinged, and quite livid. 

And I simply pointed to my pants cuff, where it currently was partially dragging upon the floor, and said,..

"Here it is,.. I wanted to put it close to the Earth."

And that was the end of his class.   

True story.

[woodworker]

I guess I could have just as well pinned it to my crotch, and told him that I have a big hard-on for Mother Earth.   But somehow, I don't think he would have taken that very well either.  

[Foamy T. Squirrel]

OK, reminisce about being a Monitor in grade school. These esteemed positions always went to the good kids, the nerd kids, or the kiss-assers.

Firstly: there was the Chalkboard Monitor. They were the "good" kids. They got to take the erasers outside and clap them together until all the chalk powder came out. (They quit doing this in high school cuz we'd use it an excuse to take a smoke break.) I was a good kid and loved this job until I got busted smoking a cig.

Secondly: There was always a Curtain Monitor. This was in the olden days when schools were built with windows, which let natural light into the room and cut lighting costs. There were also windows near the ceilings that could be opened with a special hook on a long stick, but the teacher usually did this themselves or allowed a taller boy to do this. We never had a specific Window Opener Monitor position at my school. I was a tall kid, I didn't mind helping out. Never broke a window or smacked some jerk upside the head with the stick, but on occasion I considered it.

Thirdly: Audio-Video Monitors. These kids were the techy Dilbert characters. They knew how to wind film into the movie projector and operate the slide projector. At the time, they formed a certain nerdy clique. They are all fabulously wealthy Silicon tycoons now. They often worked in close conjunction with the Curtain Monitor.

Fourthly: THE QUESTIONABLE HONOR: Again, a version of the Curtain Monitor -- This was the kid who was assigned to close the curtains during A-Bomb drills whilst all the other kids were supposed to "duck and cover" under their desks. In retrospect, it simply means that you would be "First Fried, First Died." Never wanted that job, since we did more A-Bomb drills than Fire Drills in those days, and even at that age I recognized the futility of the job position.