Q: Why is the space between a woman's breasts and her hips called a waist?
A: Because you could easily fit another set of tits there
Some jokes for ya
A family of Eskimos are bombing it down the highway in their old car. It's an unseasonally hot day. Anyhoo, next thing all this smoke starts billowing from under the bonnet. Luckily there's a servo just where the car stops so they push it in and ask to see the mechanic.
Being such a hot day, father Eskimo decides to buy him and his family ice creams to cool down while the mechanic has a look around under the bonnet.
Finally, the mechanic pops his head up from under the bonnet, turns to the father and says "I think you've blown a seal". Father Eskimo replies "Nah mate, it's just ice cream".
Being such a hot day, father Eskimo decides to buy him and his family ice creams to cool down while the mechanic has a look around under the bonnet.
Finally, the mechanic pops his head up from under the bonnet, turns to the father and says "I think you've blown a seal". Father Eskimo replies "Nah mate, it's just ice cream".
Evo - Part Man, Part Ale
-
Dogger Dan
- Posts: 3168
- Joined: Thursday Aug 26, 2004 10:43 am
- Location: Lucan, Ontario, Canada
-
Dogger Dan
- Posts: 3168
- Joined: Thursday Aug 26, 2004 10:43 am
- Location: Lucan, Ontario, Canada
-
Dogger Dan
- Posts: 3168
- Joined: Thursday Aug 26, 2004 10:43 am
- Location: Lucan, Ontario, Canada
Rough-looking bloke walks into Centrelink and says to the clerk at the desk "Mate, I've been on the dole 10 years, I'm sick of it, I really want to work!".
The Centrelink clerk replies "Well you've come at just the right time. We've just had a vacancy open working for a rich old man, you'll be a bodyguard and chaueffer for his nymphomaniac teenage daughter. You'll be required to drive her around all day in her Mercedes and accompany her on overseas trips. Its long hours so all meals and clothing are provided and you'll live in a private apartment on their property. It pays $200k. What do you think?"
"You're bullshitting me?!" the bloke says
Clerk replies "You started it!"
The Centrelink clerk replies "Well you've come at just the right time. We've just had a vacancy open working for a rich old man, you'll be a bodyguard and chaueffer for his nymphomaniac teenage daughter. You'll be required to drive her around all day in her Mercedes and accompany her on overseas trips. Its long hours so all meals and clothing are provided and you'll live in a private apartment on their property. It pays $200k. What do you think?"
"You're bullshitting me?!" the bloke says
Clerk replies "You started it!"
-
nanna Gail
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Friday Feb 04, 2005 10:58 pm
- Location: Dandenong-ish
Three men: one American, one Japanese and an Irishman were sitting naked in the sauna. Suddenly there was a beeping sound. The American pressed his forearm and the beep stopped. The others looked at him questioningly. "That was my pager," he said. "I have a microchip under the skin of my arm."
A few minutes later a phone rang. The Japanese fellow lifted his palm to his ear. When he finished he explained, "That was my mobile phone. I have a microchip in my hand."
Paddy, the Irishman, felt decidedly low-tech. So as not to be outdone, he decided he had to do something just as impressive. He stepped out of the sauna. He returns with a piece of toilet paper hanging from his arse. The others raised their eyebrows. "Will you look at dat," says Paddy, "I'm getting a fax."
A few minutes later a phone rang. The Japanese fellow lifted his palm to his ear. When he finished he explained, "That was my mobile phone. I have a microchip in my hand."
Paddy, the Irishman, felt decidedly low-tech. So as not to be outdone, he decided he had to do something just as impressive. He stepped out of the sauna. He returns with a piece of toilet paper hanging from his arse. The others raised their eyebrows. "Will you look at dat," says Paddy, "I'm getting a fax."
enjoy life
Not really a joke but worth a read anyway:
WE, the people of the broad brown land of Oz, wish to be recognised as a free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional wanker. We come from many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand) and although we live in the best country in the world, we reserve the right to bitch and moan about it whenever we bloody like. We are One Nation but we're divided into many States.
First, there's Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is the realm of Mossimo turtlenecks, cafe latte, grand final day and big horse races. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that "it's liveable". At least that's what they think.
The rest of us think it is too bloody cold and wet.
Next, there's NSW, the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar, thin books read quickly and millions of dancing queens. Its capital Sydney has more queens than any other city in the world and is proud of it. Its mascots are Bondi lifesavers who pull their Speedos up their cracks to keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.
Down south we have Tasmania, a State based on the notion that the family that bonks together stays together. In Tassie, everyone gets an extra chromosome at conception. Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest faces. It holds the world record for a single mass shooting, which the Yanks can't seem to beat no matter how often they try.
South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of foreigners and bizarre murders. SA is the state of innovation, where else can you so effectively reuse country bank vaults and barrels as in Snowtown, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). They had the Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One drivers to sleep at the wheel.
Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant. It's main claim to fame is that it doesn't have daylight saving because if it did all the men would get erections on the bus on the way to work. WA was the last state to stop importing convicts and many of them still work there in the government and business.
The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land. Outback plains, sheep stations the size of Europe, Kangaroos, Jackaroos, Emus, Uluru and dusty kids with big smiles. It also has the highest beer consumption of anywhere on the planet and its creek beds have the highest aluminium content of anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centre piece of our national culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to fly over it on our way to Bali.
And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document defining a nation of half-arsed sceptics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland as it's beautiful one day and perfect the next?? Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.
Oh yes and there's Canberra. The least said the better.
We, the citizens of Oz, are united by Highways, whose treacherous twists and turns kill more of us each year than murderers. We are united in our lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy when a rag tag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better than Beijing. We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political party,
albeit a redneck gun-toting one, can get a million votes and still not win one seat in Federal Parliament. Not that we're whingeing, we leave that to our Pommy immigrants. We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right mate" our national attitude and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (So what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who
commits suicide). We love sport so much our news readers can read the death toll from a sailing race and still tell us whose winning. And we're the best in the world at all the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby, AFL, roo-shooting, two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies, and the worst dressed Olympians in the known universe.
We shoot, we root, we vote.
We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime.
Even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little people, at least we feel better for it.
You are, I am, we are Australian.
WE, the people of the broad brown land of Oz, wish to be recognised as a free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional wanker. We come from many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand) and although we live in the best country in the world, we reserve the right to bitch and moan about it whenever we bloody like. We are One Nation but we're divided into many States.
First, there's Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is the realm of Mossimo turtlenecks, cafe latte, grand final day and big horse races. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that "it's liveable". At least that's what they think.
The rest of us think it is too bloody cold and wet.
Next, there's NSW, the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar, thin books read quickly and millions of dancing queens. Its capital Sydney has more queens than any other city in the world and is proud of it. Its mascots are Bondi lifesavers who pull their Speedos up their cracks to keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.
Down south we have Tasmania, a State based on the notion that the family that bonks together stays together. In Tassie, everyone gets an extra chromosome at conception. Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest faces. It holds the world record for a single mass shooting, which the Yanks can't seem to beat no matter how often they try.
South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of foreigners and bizarre murders. SA is the state of innovation, where else can you so effectively reuse country bank vaults and barrels as in Snowtown, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). They had the Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One drivers to sleep at the wheel.
Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant. It's main claim to fame is that it doesn't have daylight saving because if it did all the men would get erections on the bus on the way to work. WA was the last state to stop importing convicts and many of them still work there in the government and business.
The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land. Outback plains, sheep stations the size of Europe, Kangaroos, Jackaroos, Emus, Uluru and dusty kids with big smiles. It also has the highest beer consumption of anywhere on the planet and its creek beds have the highest aluminium content of anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centre piece of our national culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to fly over it on our way to Bali.
And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document defining a nation of half-arsed sceptics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland as it's beautiful one day and perfect the next?? Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.
Oh yes and there's Canberra. The least said the better.
We, the citizens of Oz, are united by Highways, whose treacherous twists and turns kill more of us each year than murderers. We are united in our lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy when a rag tag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better than Beijing. We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political party,
albeit a redneck gun-toting one, can get a million votes and still not win one seat in Federal Parliament. Not that we're whingeing, we leave that to our Pommy immigrants. We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right mate" our national attitude and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (So what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who
commits suicide). We love sport so much our news readers can read the death toll from a sailing race and still tell us whose winning. And we're the best in the world at all the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby, AFL, roo-shooting, two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies, and the worst dressed Olympians in the known universe.
We shoot, we root, we vote.
We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime.
Even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little people, at least we feel better for it.
You are, I am, we are Australian.
Some people say I have a drinking Problem....
I drink, I get drunk, I fall over....
What's the problem?
http://www.brodiescastlebrewing.com/
I drink, I get drunk, I fall over....
What's the problem?
http://www.brodiescastlebrewing.com/
An old married couple no sooner hit the pillows when the old man passes gas and says, "Six Points."
His wife rolls over and says, "What in the world was that?"
The old man replied, "It's fart football."
A few minutes later his wife lets one go and says "Touchdown, tie score."
After about five minutes the old man lets another one go and says, "Aha. I'm ahead 14 to 7"
Not to be outdone the wife rips out another one and says, "Touchdown, tie score."
Five seconds go by and she lets out a little squeaker and says, "Field goal, I lead 17 to 14." Now the pressure is on the old man.
He refuses to get beaten by a woman, so he strains real hard. Since defeat is totally unacceptable, he gives it everything he's got, and accidentally shits in the bed.
The wife says, "What the hell was that?"
The old man says, "Half time, switch sides."
His wife rolls over and says, "What in the world was that?"
The old man replied, "It's fart football."
A few minutes later his wife lets one go and says "Touchdown, tie score."
After about five minutes the old man lets another one go and says, "Aha. I'm ahead 14 to 7"
Not to be outdone the wife rips out another one and says, "Touchdown, tie score."
Five seconds go by and she lets out a little squeaker and says, "Field goal, I lead 17 to 14." Now the pressure is on the old man.
He refuses to get beaten by a woman, so he strains real hard. Since defeat is totally unacceptable, he gives it everything he's got, and accidentally shits in the bed.
The wife says, "What the hell was that?"
The old man says, "Half time, switch sides."
Dear Tech Support:
Last year I upgraded from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0. I soon noticed that the new program began unexpected child processing that took up a lot of space and valuable resources. In addition, Wife 1.0 installed itself into all other programs and now monitors all other system activity. Applications such as Poker Night 10.3, Football 5.0, Hunting and Fishing 7.5, and Racing 3.6 I can't seem to keep Wife 1.0 in the background while attempting to run my favorite applications. I'm thinking about going back to Girlfriend 7.0, but the uninstall doesn't work on Wife 1.0. Please help!
Thanks,
A Troubled User.
REPLY:
Dear Troubled User:
This is a very common problem that men complain about.
Many people upgrade from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0, thinking that it is just a Utilities and Entertainment program. Wife 1.0 is an OPERATING SYSTEM and is designed by its creator to run EVERYTHING!!! It is also impossible to delete Wife 1.0 and to return to Girlfriend 7.0. It is impossible to uninstall, or purge the program files from the system once installed.
You cannot go back to Girlfriend 7.0 because Wife 1.0 is designed to not allow this. Look in your Wife 1.0 manual under Warnings-Alimony-Child Support. I recommend that you keep Wife 1.0 and work on improving the situation. I suggest installing the background application "Yes Dear" to alleviate software augmentation.
The best course of action is to enter the command C:\APOLOGIZE because ultimately you will have to give the APOLOGIZE command before the system will return to normal anyway.
Wife 1.0 is a great program, but it tends to be very high maintenance. Wife 1.0 comes with several support programs, such as Clean and Sweep 3.0, Cook It 1.5 and Do Bills 4.2.
However, be very careful how you use these programs. Improper use will cause the system to launch the program Nag Nag 9.5. Once this happens, the only way to improve the performance of Wife 1.0 is to purchase additional software. I recommend Flowers 2.1 and Diamonds 5.0 !
WARNING!!! DO NOT, under any circumstances, install Secretary With Short Skirt 3.3. This application is not supported by Wife 1.0 and will cause irreversible damage to the operating system.
Best of luck,
Tech Support
Last year I upgraded from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0. I soon noticed that the new program began unexpected child processing that took up a lot of space and valuable resources. In addition, Wife 1.0 installed itself into all other programs and now monitors all other system activity. Applications such as Poker Night 10.3, Football 5.0, Hunting and Fishing 7.5, and Racing 3.6 I can't seem to keep Wife 1.0 in the background while attempting to run my favorite applications. I'm thinking about going back to Girlfriend 7.0, but the uninstall doesn't work on Wife 1.0. Please help!
Thanks,
A Troubled User.
REPLY:
Dear Troubled User:
This is a very common problem that men complain about.
Many people upgrade from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0, thinking that it is just a Utilities and Entertainment program. Wife 1.0 is an OPERATING SYSTEM and is designed by its creator to run EVERYTHING!!! It is also impossible to delete Wife 1.0 and to return to Girlfriend 7.0. It is impossible to uninstall, or purge the program files from the system once installed.
You cannot go back to Girlfriend 7.0 because Wife 1.0 is designed to not allow this. Look in your Wife 1.0 manual under Warnings-Alimony-Child Support. I recommend that you keep Wife 1.0 and work on improving the situation. I suggest installing the background application "Yes Dear" to alleviate software augmentation.
The best course of action is to enter the command C:\APOLOGIZE because ultimately you will have to give the APOLOGIZE command before the system will return to normal anyway.
Wife 1.0 is a great program, but it tends to be very high maintenance. Wife 1.0 comes with several support programs, such as Clean and Sweep 3.0, Cook It 1.5 and Do Bills 4.2.
However, be very careful how you use these programs. Improper use will cause the system to launch the program Nag Nag 9.5. Once this happens, the only way to improve the performance of Wife 1.0 is to purchase additional software. I recommend Flowers 2.1 and Diamonds 5.0 !
WARNING!!! DO NOT, under any circumstances, install Secretary With Short Skirt 3.3. This application is not supported by Wife 1.0 and will cause irreversible damage to the operating system.
Best of luck,
Tech Support
-
Dogger Dan
- Posts: 3168
- Joined: Thursday Aug 26, 2004 10:43 am
- Location: Lucan, Ontario, Canada
Grab,
I am sticking this in as a bit of a reply. Sun Times is a paper out of the USA and this was writen after Canada beat the USA in hockey during the last Winter Olympics
Dogger
PS. I can get Roots clothing, I know you guys are tickled about that.
BY RICK TELANDER SUN-TIMES COLUMNIST
SALT LAKE CITY-You gotta love those cuddly hosers from Up North, eh? When I called home, my 11-year-old son was singing "O Canada," and I couldn't blame him.
It's a simple song-a preschooler can handle the melody, and apparently
the only words are "O Canada" and "We stand on guard for thee"-and you have to admit the anthem looks so good coming out of Wayne Gretzky's mouth. Especially when Janet Jones is clinging to his back.
You know the Canadians smoked us in hockey-men's and women's-and that is A little like UCLA losing a doubleheader hoops game to the University of Saskatoon. Well, not exactly, maybe. Canada did invent hockey. But with a population about the same as New York state, Canada should be as serious a threat to our big country as Lapland is to Russia.
Those northern people also beat our women in curling, en route to winning a silver medal. Of course, we don't care about curling, and they do. When one of their beloved female curlers died of cancer not long ago, the memorial service was broadcast nationally on Canadian television.
But shouldn't we beat the Canucks (Webster's definition: "A Canadian;
especially a French Canadian") at anything that has moveable objects
involved, whether French, English or pig Latin is spoken during the event?
The trouble is, you can't get mad at Canadians. Anger directed north is like anger directed at a slobbering St. Bernard. Just get the mop and pat its head, and things will be fine.
Canada is the buffer between us and the Arctic Circle, a province of
Minnesota, the guardian of ponds and mosquitoes and bellowing moose.
We have Florida and Bruce Springsteen and real police.
They have Manitoba and the Barenaked Ladies and mounties in red coats and Dudley Do-Right hats.
It had been 50 years since the Canadian men had won an Olympic gold medal in hockey. And the Canadian women had lost eight straight times to their United States counterparts before whipping the haughty Americans on Thursday.
And so what we have in this deal is a kind of gentle payback.
Did you know we once invaded Canada?
We did. In December 1775, we marched up there to fight the British and were forced to scamper home after getting our butts shellacked in Quebec.
Soon after, for our punishment, agent Peter Jennings was sent across the border and instructed to make the word "aboot" part of the American
lexicon.
I have to admit that I was stunned upon arriving in this western city to see that the American Olympic team was wearing gear made by something or somebody called "Roots."
There on every American athlete's jacket and sweatshirt, like a first name on a bowling shirt, was the word, "Roots."
A Canadian company, for God's sake. Apparently not Nike or Wilson or Spalding or even Target or Walgreens
could get it together, or stoop low enough, to actually outfit our own
people. What a great way to win a minor battle: Put the big dummies in our clothes.
I wonder if the American press, so shrill and feverish in demanding
reparations for allegedly slighted Canadian pairs skaters Jamie Sale and David Pelletier, would be so vocal now, knowing the danged Canadians kicked our butts in the only team games we cared about.
But again: How can you get mad at these folks?
They're funny.
They're unassuming.
They're hardy.
They're like Australians living in places like Prince Rupert, without
kangaroos.
They're us, we like to think.
If we could handle the wolverines and tundras.
Canadian men's hockey leader Wayne Gretzky had complained about American propaganda," saying we southern media agents had somehow been mean to and critical of the hosers' hockey and wanted nothing more than for them to implode. I sat and listened to Wayne's rant, and I had no idea what he was talking about. He said that if the Canadians had been as loutish as, say, the Czech Republic players were to his own little precious annoyance, Theo Fleury, the Canadians would be labeled "hooligans."
Hooligans?
What was Wayne talking about?
What is the least bit nasty about Labatt Blue or Fergie Jenkins or
snowshoes?
No, this was the Olympics that had almost everybody rooting for the folks from the other side of the treeline.
And it was the Olympics that made us realize the Soviet Union is gone, theCubans don't have a Winter team, the Chinese are still figuring it out, The Berlin Wall is down, and the only Evil Empire out there, so to speak, is us.
We're the bullies on the block, the strutters with the money and clout.
And guess what?
Oh, Canada, you sweeties. You nicked us where it hurts.
I am sticking this in as a bit of a reply. Sun Times is a paper out of the USA and this was writen after Canada beat the USA in hockey during the last Winter Olympics
Dogger
PS. I can get Roots clothing, I know you guys are tickled about that.
BY RICK TELANDER SUN-TIMES COLUMNIST
SALT LAKE CITY-You gotta love those cuddly hosers from Up North, eh? When I called home, my 11-year-old son was singing "O Canada," and I couldn't blame him.
It's a simple song-a preschooler can handle the melody, and apparently
the only words are "O Canada" and "We stand on guard for thee"-and you have to admit the anthem looks so good coming out of Wayne Gretzky's mouth. Especially when Janet Jones is clinging to his back.
You know the Canadians smoked us in hockey-men's and women's-and that is A little like UCLA losing a doubleheader hoops game to the University of Saskatoon. Well, not exactly, maybe. Canada did invent hockey. But with a population about the same as New York state, Canada should be as serious a threat to our big country as Lapland is to Russia.
Those northern people also beat our women in curling, en route to winning a silver medal. Of course, we don't care about curling, and they do. When one of their beloved female curlers died of cancer not long ago, the memorial service was broadcast nationally on Canadian television.
But shouldn't we beat the Canucks (Webster's definition: "A Canadian;
especially a French Canadian") at anything that has moveable objects
involved, whether French, English or pig Latin is spoken during the event?
The trouble is, you can't get mad at Canadians. Anger directed north is like anger directed at a slobbering St. Bernard. Just get the mop and pat its head, and things will be fine.
Canada is the buffer between us and the Arctic Circle, a province of
Minnesota, the guardian of ponds and mosquitoes and bellowing moose.
We have Florida and Bruce Springsteen and real police.
They have Manitoba and the Barenaked Ladies and mounties in red coats and Dudley Do-Right hats.
It had been 50 years since the Canadian men had won an Olympic gold medal in hockey. And the Canadian women had lost eight straight times to their United States counterparts before whipping the haughty Americans on Thursday.
And so what we have in this deal is a kind of gentle payback.
Did you know we once invaded Canada?
We did. In December 1775, we marched up there to fight the British and were forced to scamper home after getting our butts shellacked in Quebec.
Soon after, for our punishment, agent Peter Jennings was sent across the border and instructed to make the word "aboot" part of the American
lexicon.
I have to admit that I was stunned upon arriving in this western city to see that the American Olympic team was wearing gear made by something or somebody called "Roots."
There on every American athlete's jacket and sweatshirt, like a first name on a bowling shirt, was the word, "Roots."
A Canadian company, for God's sake. Apparently not Nike or Wilson or Spalding or even Target or Walgreens
could get it together, or stoop low enough, to actually outfit our own
people. What a great way to win a minor battle: Put the big dummies in our clothes.
I wonder if the American press, so shrill and feverish in demanding
reparations for allegedly slighted Canadian pairs skaters Jamie Sale and David Pelletier, would be so vocal now, knowing the danged Canadians kicked our butts in the only team games we cared about.
But again: How can you get mad at these folks?
They're funny.
They're unassuming.
They're hardy.
They're like Australians living in places like Prince Rupert, without
kangaroos.
They're us, we like to think.
If we could handle the wolverines and tundras.
Canadian men's hockey leader Wayne Gretzky had complained about American propaganda," saying we southern media agents had somehow been mean to and critical of the hosers' hockey and wanted nothing more than for them to implode. I sat and listened to Wayne's rant, and I had no idea what he was talking about. He said that if the Canadians had been as loutish as, say, the Czech Republic players were to his own little precious annoyance, Theo Fleury, the Canadians would be labeled "hooligans."
Hooligans?
What was Wayne talking about?
What is the least bit nasty about Labatt Blue or Fergie Jenkins or
snowshoes?
No, this was the Olympics that had almost everybody rooting for the folks from the other side of the treeline.
And it was the Olympics that made us realize the Soviet Union is gone, theCubans don't have a Winter team, the Chinese are still figuring it out, The Berlin Wall is down, and the only Evil Empire out there, so to speak, is us.
We're the bullies on the block, the strutters with the money and clout.
And guess what?
Oh, Canada, you sweeties. You nicked us where it hurts.
"Listening to someone who brews their own beer is like listening to a religous fanatic talk about the day he saw the light" Ross Murray, Montreal Gazette
you kind a get the feeling the boy isn't happy don't you!
I suppose you should be lucky that in true yank fashion they didn't invade you again, claiming you had weapons of mass destruction or something!
Well to them below you you, mmmm notice even geographically they are below you, i say "looks like the best team won"
I suppose you should be lucky that in true yank fashion they didn't invade you again, claiming you had weapons of mass destruction or something!
Well to them below you you, mmmm notice even geographically they are below you, i say "looks like the best team won"
Some people say I have a drinking Problem....
I drink, I get drunk, I fall over....
What's the problem?
http://www.brodiescastlebrewing.com/
I drink, I get drunk, I fall over....
What's the problem?
http://www.brodiescastlebrewing.com/