YSaC, Vol. 906: Anarchy in the Pre-K.
2011 January 19
toddler punkbeds – $50
Metal white frame punk bed with the mattresses. good condition xxx-xxx-xxxx
First sign of the apocalypse: Miss Congeniality: Armed and Fabulous. (The second and third sign are also discussed in that post, and I stand by them.)
Fourth sign: the Rugrats make a punk album. To my knowledge this has not yet happened, although this is disturbingly close.
Besides, everyone knows that the real punkers stay at the Hilton.
Thanks, jessica!
By the way, all the accolades for the fantastic title go to Dan.
:puts accolade back in basket on red table, backs away slowly:
Umm … That one had a bite out of it already. I think it was the delivery boy.
I think it was Mr. Winkey.
I think it was Colonel Mustard with the bloody chainsaw in the meat locker.
Poor Cocker Spaniel, it never saw it coming.
**winks**
Hey, if a person can buy Clash and Ramones onesies for babies,* then punk beds after they outgrow their cribs are clearly the next step.
*These exist – I strongly considered buying these for my godchildren, but they would have outgrown them too soon to justify the cost.
PS: Sheena was a bunk rocker.
I thought about buying Ozzy and Guns and Roses onesies for my niece because my brother loves their music but I also felt I couldn’t justify the cost when she would outgrow them and/or puke and poop on them.
I dunno, I think that might have been a good homage with the GNR… ‘Swhat Axle spent most of his career doing, right?
I thought the puking and the pOOping happened during Rock of Love.
Poison… GNR… sometimes it’s hard to tell them apart…
Wasn’t it “the Flavor of Love” with the pooping?
I guess you should know Lou.
😉
Since Lou is the SME, or in this case, the FME…
Many doors for FME, Bombdude.
Stephanae! Haven’t seen you (or your dance outfit) in a bit.
Hi, Lola! I’ve tried to lurk as much as possible, and I’ve missed you all horribly, but I’ve been so busy. My hell ends after I get back from Tokyo on the 29th, and then maybe I’ll be able to do more than lurk and throw occasional doors at people.
Yeah, the time difference can influence snark interaction. Please come by again soon!
Most everybody tries to be, between the ages of 18 & 30…
Please note the bed is only punk with the mattresses – without them it’s boring, progressive AOR, you know, the sort of thing your parents might sleep in…
I thought it’d be more punk without the mattresses. Just duct tape some garbage bags to the frame.
Yes, wrap your children in garbage bags before they go to sleep. They’ll stay nice and quiet…
Especially if you use plenty of tape.
AR — thank you. I’ll keep that in mind next time my teenager gets mouthy, which should be about now……
“Rock the Hasbro”
“Rockabye Beach”
“London Sleeping”
“London’s Crying”
Other bands:
Black Diaperbag
Husker Doody
The Serta Pistols?
The Pramones?
The Bed Kennedys?
Man, I could light a lot of fireworks with those!
Just don’t let Bombdude help you, okay? You may have grown attached to your eyebrows, nose, and chin.
Heeeeey!!
I’ma perfeshional!
You no longer say “Hey! Watch this!”?
A direct quote from every Battalion Gunner I was ever around.
Alright you five-year-olds, you’ve got to ask yourselves one question.
Do I feel lucky?
Well, do ya…punks?!
Do you feel sleepy?
Love your big doors, Lara.
OK, this avvie creeps me out entirely. And I’m a cat person.
’twas the intent. But suffer no longer – to paraphrase ol’ Benjamin – Sock puppets, like fish, begin to smell after three hours. With apologies to Mindfield, I’m gone.
Yea, the big doors is an interesting glitch. And your avvie is extremely creepy like Lola said.
Hehe, I know who you are, with your fancy writin’s :-p
Lara, I think you forgot the / when closing your HTML tags.
Big door fixed.
Awww….. :-p How are the giants going to get in now?
Darn, I liked the big door. Does this mean that if I make a big door on purpose, you will take it away?
Way to make utter nonsense of the comments here, dan.
Oh, wait…
Mr. Eastwood, tell us another story about police officers with big guns!
Actually, after yesterday’s Hyperbole and a Half, I’m a little frightened of that age group…
aaWOOOOOOO!!
Werewolves of London…
There ya go! Now I want a big dish of beef chow mein again for some reason….
oh yeah…and a pina colada from Trader Vic’s.
That was hilarious! grrrrrrrrr
I just picked up that movie out of the $5 bin at Wallyworld.
I don’t see any way to access the top bed. I hope this thing comes with a punky booster.
Just as long as it doesn’t come with a Punky Brewster….though some men I know did…
*my corner has pop tarts.
Mmmm… The second-best kind of tart.
wait what?
I like Sweetarts better than Pop Tarts.
Why, what did you think I meant?
:attempts to look innocent:
With any cat as your avatar, innocent is out of the question. Devious, cunning, sleepy, sharp, hungry, and demanding are all valid adjectives for a cat, but not innocent.
Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!! I resemble that remark!
And disdainful. Don’t forget disdainful.
Turk: Dr. Cox, you got it all wrong, man! I don’t disdain you! It’s quite the opposite — I “dain” you. Yeah. I think if you get to know me better, you just might “dain” me, too.
Did you just quote something from Scrubs..?
Hehe….
I thought the term was dis-stain. Where you un-stain something…. *heavy sigh*
sj – picky, picky, picky. You vault onto it whilst pogo-ing. QED.
*Message to Sparky – move the bed from the window. Oh! wait, that’s why it’s for sale. Sparkette #2 overshot the top punk … and then there was one*
Ten little Sparkies, jumping on the bed,
one fell off and oops, they’re dead!
Musta been a nitro-sparkie if one fell off and it killed them all.
The mattrass went bad and became unstable.
SJ — get out of my head. I know it seems pretty empty these days, but still.
What’s an unstable? The outside area of the fence where the horse has gotten out?
I know there is a science joke about unstable molecules and junk in there somewhere, but I am not functioning within established parameters, so I will leave it to someone else.
Mudsy – No, it cannot be used as a noun, only a verb, i.e. “The horse has been unstabled”…
8)
Hi, have I reached Sparky? What’s your best price if I take both the toddler punkbeds and the child bad with mattrass?
Isn’t the point of a toddler bed to transition a child from sleeping in a crib to a real bed? Isn’t being low to the ground and/or having rails an important part of that? This seems like a toddler adventure/disaster waiting to happen.
Or Sparky’s people are circus folk and he was hoping to get the kids started early in the family business.
well they are punks, maybe they want to get rid of them
It’s an evolutionary idea!
AR, I’m not a parent, but from my understanding, the phrase “toddler adventure/disaster” may be redundant at any given moment.
That was the implication. An adventure for the toddler, a disaster for everyone else.
i.e. The 3 stitches my kiddo just got Monday for face-planting into the door frame. He had help from the nearby kid twirling in circles, but it was still accidental. Next on the list: concussions or broken bones. Oh joy. *whimper*
Isn’t that why they say “It takes a child to raze a village?”
+!+!+!+ A million doors!!!
This is where my reading of the ad went seruiously off-course.
Just how many toddlers do you have to have about to start racking them in bunk beds?
Is not one toddler enough destructive force in any given house?
I mean, I had some prolific relatives (13 children spanning 26 years, in one case)–but short of medical meddling and issuing forth onotuplets, “bunking” toddlers?
I suspect Spark was the victim of someone a hair better at “basement craft” than Unc’ Ivor from yesterday.
“Ivor! You lazy gonif! Stop your drinking and watching sports! Put those toddler beds away!” (Ivor espies Sawzall and stack of threaded studs, and recalls new gemclief neighbor is dimmer than an unlit basement at night . . . )
Meh, I guess it depends. I don’t know what it’s like outside of the Happy Valley/Mormons-replenishing-the-earth deal, but around here people are usually spacing their kids about 24-28 months apart (usually on the lower end of that spectrum). So to me, it’s perfectly reasonable to have two kids that are toddler-bed-sized… a 5-year-old is mature enough to have the top bunk and a 3-year-old gets the bottom bunk, while the crib is for the baby. Especially if you live in an older house with tiny rooms like I do… There’s just not enough space for two toddler beds and a crib, let alone a twin bed, a toddler bed, and a crib. (I’m hoping so much that we will be out of this house and hopefully farther east by the time this happens. I have a coworker whose wife just had their 6th kid… And they live in a 1200 sq ft house. He and his wife sleep on a futon in the living room so the kids can have the bedrooms… Baby in the living room, 4 boys in one bedroom and 1 girl in the other. I don’t know how they do it! But I digress…)
How far east?
Have they tried to sell you a basket of magic beans?
Perhaps they have neighbors with an odd accent?
Is their last name Duggar?
Psh, no, they’ve got less than half the amount of kids the Duggars have! (I think. I don’t keep track of these things. Do they still beat out OctoLeech?) As to how far east… I’m hoping Ohio/west-Pennsylvania-ish. It’s right between the two sets of grandparents, so less than a day’s drive in either direction! (But that’s my dream. We’ll probably end up in Alaska or something and I will die. MrEB works for a big company with offices all over the world, so transfers [both at their request and our request] are entirely possible.)
Oh…speaking OT about hyper-breeding. I heard on the news this morning that the octo-mom is trying to sell a fetish video. Baby bonnet, whip, diaper and grown man are all included!
That kinda makes me sick. Aren’t things like that supposed to go away if we ignore them? Kinda like trolls and small, irritating children?
I guess she filmed it in her house which begged the question of the anchors where her 14 children were at the time.
I inadvertently saw stills of this … cinematic offering.
I may yet recover, but it will be a close thing. Apparently, yes, it was filmed at her home, and it is as described. Unfortunately. No further word on whether the children were present in the home at the time.
*whimper*
::passes flask::
Just keep drinking, and eventually all those images will go away.
Thanks, AR. The great thing about flasks is that if you’re careful, you can utilize them from the fetal position.
:passes Lola a bendy straw for the flask:
Bendy straw for flask can be its own entertainment, too. Something about watching things go loop-de-dah and loop-de-day through the straw . . .
That usually works, but right now I’ve got my eyes shut, even though that doesn’t fix the pictures that are burned in my brain.
Here, have these “kittens” to look at, then.
SQUEEE!!!
I mean, thank you, Astro.
EB, Mini EB’s a bit over a year, so it’s time to start working on the next one, right? Right? 8)
Windrose, HAHAHAAHAHahahahahahahhaahha [breathe] HAHAHAhahahahhahahahahaa! Whew! Only if I had a nanny that lived next door so that when I’m nearly certainly bedrest on my next pregnancy, someone could take care of the incredibly active toddler I’ve previously birthed. Why, are you applying for the job? :-p
Why, why, why did I click on the links this early in the morning? *whimper* When will I learn not to do that at pre-coffee o’clock?
Parents, are your toddlers annoyingly well behaved? Do they think Bananaphone is the best song ever? Do they dress in conservative onesies and rompers? All of that can change with the new Punkbeds.
*Warning: Punkbeds may cause a strange fascination with piercings and safety pins.*
Are you saying Bananaphone ISN’T the best song ever? I challenge you to a duel! We will have OBOs at dawn!
Ring, ring, ring…mousiephone
Badger badger badger badger
Great, now I’m trying not to imagine “Bananaphone” played on an oboe…
Well, I was going to go arrange Bananaphone for Oboe in Finale and post the mp3 here for you, but apparently Raffi is a capitalist.
I vote for Only in Kenya
I might hate you now for that link. I can’t get it out of my head.
Your cat is laughing inside at my predicament.
I love that link ’cause it loops.
Dear God the last time that song was stuck in my head, it remained there for 2 and 1/2 months.
I may be forced to kill you.
Yes, but you know what would be worse? Phil Collins.
I know a guy who once said that if he found out he had an hour to live he’d put on a Phil Collins album because the songs always seem to him as if they will never end.
BWAHAHA
I’d put on The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald or any other Gordon Lightfoot album.
Wait – There’s more than one Gordon Lightfoot album?
Haha sarajean.
I believe the second one is just Gord’s Gold played backwards.
Rainy day people always seem to know when it’s time to call.
Rainy day people don’t talk
they just listen till they’ve heard it all.
Rainy day lovers don’t lie when they tell you
they’ve been down like you.
Rainy day people don’t mind if you’re cryin’ a tear or two.
If you get lonely, all you really need is that rainy day love.
Rainy day people all know there’s no sorrow
they can’t rise above.
Rainy day lovers don’t love any others
that would not be kind.
Rainy day people all know how it hangs
on their peace of mind.
Rainy day lovers don’t lie when they tell you
they’ve been down there, too.
Rainy day people don’t mind if you’re cryin’ a tear or two.
Rainy day people always seem to know
when you’re feelin’ blue
I steps and stutters around in the gutters
sometimes need one, too.
Take it or leave it or try to believe it,
If you’ve been down too long,
Rainy day lovers don’t hide love inside, they just pass it on.
Rainy day lovers don’t hide love inside, they just pass it on.
Oh..I don’t know, a few gears, some old clocks, add a patina…this could work as steampunk.
That would be really cool! It’s a good thing I don’t have kids right now because I would be breaking all the clocks and whipping out my glue gun on that thing.
“Would you like a complimentary safety pin on your pillow?”
Welcome back, Innana! 8)
Vorsicht! Punkbett ist feuergefährlich*
*But they burn slowly.
:wakes up Catranslator, types in Spacebug’s comment:
“My punk bed is full of eels.”
Oooh…SJ! I think you nailed it! Did you get the Catranslator 3000? I’m still using the CT 2K, and I got: “Puke box fill kibble.”
Oh, dear. I read “Catranslator” as “Castrator.” I think this was actually a position at the courts of Caligula and Nero.
In more ways than one!
You take that back!
No, you’re a sausage!
That’s what she said?
“All right,” Anne said to her toddler. “Time for bed.”
“Aww!” her son said. “Can’t I just play for five more minutes?”
“I already gave you five more minutes five minutes ago. Let’s go.”
She picked him up and spirited him off to his bedroom, where his new bed, just assembled this afternoon, awaited.
“Heeey!” her child said. “That’s not my bed!”
“I know, honey,” Anne responded. “Your old bed was falling apart, so I got you a new one! See? Isn’t it nice?”
The child eyed the bed dubiously, testing the springiness with his hands. “I guess so…” he said, sounding a little disappointed. His old bed had been in the shape of a race car, but the molding was plastic, it had cracks in a number of places and the front right quarter of the bumper had broken clean off such that it was dangerously sharp. His new bed was a two-tiered but rather plain affair bought used from someone online who referred to it as a “punk bed”; she only had the one child, but the price was right and it was what she could afford right now.
Nevertheless he climbed into his bed, sitting upright, and pulled the cover over his legs. An odd look came over his face. He started looking a little angry, almost menacing, though Anne supposed he just missed his race car bed.
“Well?” Anne asked her son. “Is it comfy enough for you?”
Her son looked at her and curled his lip. “It’s f*&%ing sh&te.”
Anne’s eyes went wide as saucers. She couldn’t have heard what she thought she just heard. He was four. He never used that kind of language — and certainly not with a Brummie accent. “Wh … what did you say?”
Her son curled his lip further. “I said it’s f#@%ing sh&te, ya deaf bint!”
“Brian!” Anne gasped, flabbergasted.
“And stop calling me that, ya soppy c%$t,” Brian cursed. “My mates call me Scumhead.”
Anne’s eyes couldn’t possibly go any wider, so in compensation, her jaw dropped almost to her sternum. She had no idea how to respond to that. Her desire to yell and punish him was being short-circuited by the utter disbelief in the words tumbling from his mouth — words even adults who weren’t picking a fight didn’t use. And where the hell was that accent coming from?
“What the hell are you gawping at ya barmy cow?” Brian spat.
It was unreal. It couldn’t be real. It was like he was possessed. Could she be having a nightmare? She must be having a nightmare. This must be a nightmare. Why else would her son start acting like a complete chav totally out of the blue like that? It wasn’t normal. It was as far from normal as it was possible to get.
“I … I … what …” Anne tried to say something, but the words kept side-swiping each other on their way down her brain stem.
“Oh, shut yer festering gob! Now tell me a story.”
It was a nightmare. Perhaps she should just play along, and maybe this thing will end sooner. Surely she could do that.
“Wh … which, er, one?” Anne asked nervously.
“That Red Riding Hood one,” Brian said. “I like that one. Only change it so the wolf eats her, too, and then goes on to curb stomp her entire village.”
“Brian!” she gasped again. Maybe she couldn’t.
“Tell me the f#@$ing story ya filthy rotter!” Brian screamed. The cat, who had just sauntered casually into the room, scrambled frantically out the way he came as if someone had just dumped a bucket of water on it. “And there’d better be lots of blood in it! And boobs!”
Anne slowly backed away while she tried to process. Boobs! She needed to wake up. Why wasn’t she waking up? This was becoming quite disturbing and she needed to wake up. “I don’t … I ….” she faltered.
Without warning, Brian threw off his covers and hopped to the ground. The moment his feet touched carpet, he looked completely startled. He must have been, as in that moment he also utterly failed to stop his forward momentum and ended up in a faceplant. For a brief moment, Anne thought he had knocked himself unconscious, but he then pushed himself up and sat up with his legs folded under him. He stared ahead in a total daze for several more long moments, and then, without a word, began to bawl uncontrollably.
Anne’s motherly instincts kicked in and she knelt down to scoop him up in her arms to console him. She suddenly knew he wasn’t crying because he fell. Several things began to click together in her head that had previously been shoved out of the way by all of the other mental cross-traffic that had been causing multi-neuron pileups during the last several minutes of the most shocking and surreal moments she’d experienced since her husband forced her to watch Eraserhead. Anne had assumed the seller of the bed either sucked at spelling or had been unwittingly using the wrong terminology when they posted the “punk bed” for sale. But now Anne knew. They knew exactly what they were selling.
“Come on, it’s okay,” Anne cooed to Brian. “You can sleep with me tonight, and tomorrow, we’ll get rid of that nasty bed.”
Brian continued to sob as she brought him into her bedroom, laid him down on the bed, put him under the covers, and kissed his forehead. He seemed to calm down a bit after that, so she turned out the light and left the door open a crack as she went back into the hallway.
She strode down the hall and back to Brian’s room with the intent to strip the sheets, covers and pillows from the bed so all she’d need to do is toss it out tomorrow, but discovered that it was now occupied.
“Oi!” said the cat as it lifted its head from its paws. “What the f&%k do you want?”
I just got cold chills.
Seriously, how do you do this each and every day? *applauds*
That one needs to be published. I’d pay to read it.
I would download it for free off the internet but feel bad about not paying for it.
I would check it out of the library but forget to return it on time.
I would draw dirty cartoons in the margins.
As a librarian, I would fine Mindfield for book defacement, even if it is his own story, the physical book is library property. Then I would direct him to the art section’s nude drawing collection.
But, isn’t Mindfield a Canadian?
Poor things, they don’t know any better.
We know better! That’s why we deface our literature in UV ink, so only the savvy with a blacklight can see them.
Say Mindfield, you wouldn’t be related to a fellow by the name of Rod Serling, would you?
I’d swear he was Stephen King’s ghostwriter….
Mudsy, you have to stop swearing so much!
[semi-related note]
The PBS series Nova is on a run of shows on the “Frontiers of Television” and the first episode is “Science Fiction.”
They talk about how irwin Allen got Lostin Space on the Air; how Gene Roddenberry started as well. Some Real gems, though on the process of Rod Serling getting Twilight Zone on the air, and how the network execs managed to kill the golden-egg-laying goose, too. Worth programming DVR/VCR (or, just old-fashioned ‘watching’ of a program)
[/note]
???????
Well, “everyone” seems to be doing every thing but actually waiting until air time and watching a program when it is broadcast.
Or so it seems to me.
They get a note on their phone that their streaming content is available; or that the DVR started; or that their toddler beds have been given love-me jackets and taken away for dipsomania treatments . . .
Nice twist!
Oy. Swampy days at work this week. Haven’t even had time to keep up with the comments here. (The story took a couple of hours to write just because of the constant interruptions. The nerve of my employers!) Probably better if I just group some replies here ‘stead of individually or else I’ll never get anything done.
First, glad you lot enjoyed the f#%$in’ story, mates. 🙂
@Limelolly – I kinda realized this could kind of be horror-comedy depending on the angle you approach it from. I was mainly going for the funny side, but yeah, I’d probably be calling a priest or something if that started happening — my kid or not. 🙂
@Lou – Well, not exactly every day; maybe once or twice a week if the mood strikes and the day’s posting has something I can wrap a story around. I just have fun with it, and sometimes it’s cathartic.
@Angel/Sara – I wouldn’t charge to read these. Unless I got a book deal or something. I do plan on putting up a blog for this stuff (and other stories) at some point though. Free of charge, but subject to your choice of backscatter scanning or pat-down. No particular reason.
@Coffdrop/mudslicker: I’m the love child of both. Never mind the physiology involved.
@Addicted – That was a last minute thing. I didn’t really want to end it in the mom’s bed, so I threw in the cat’s appearance a little earlier and turned him punk in the end.
@Cap’n – We rarely watch a show when it’s actually on. While it’s nice to be able to watch it when we have the time (which is half the reason we do it), we mainly just like being able to skip the commercials — especially when they come on at 45db louder than the show. It’s annoying when you have just a TV, but orders of magnitude worse when you have a home theater and live in an apartment.
I’m not into polygamy, but I still wanna join your harem, MF! This is just further evidence to me that it would be a good idea.
Come on in! There’s always room for
JelLola!Nova being public broadcasting, no commercials involved. So that excuse is not valid. 200 Demerits, House Mindfield!
But you can also get some Nova stuff on Netflix streaming, which is way cheaper than cable or wiring my house for TV, so nya! :-p
Edit: Dang, I want to see my new avatar, and it’s not showing up… *refresh refresh refresh*
Edit Edit: Squee!
Hey, didn’t know Nova was on Netflix, I’ll have to check — though our Netflix in Canada only started recently so there are a lot of regional licenses they haven’t got yet. (Like, most of the TV shows I like. But they have some of my favourite Britcoms — Red Dwarf, Black Adder, etc. — so I can forgive some of that.)
One of my favorite books was a paperback that I read so many times that it fell apart. It was titled “50 Best Short Short Sci-FiStories” or something like that. None of them were over 500 words and some may have been as short as 30 words. Your succinct style fits that genre so perfectly! There’s a market for it: Micro Fiction: An Anthology of Fifty Really Short Stories . We all appreciate your writing. I’m sure that others would as well! Your wryness and sly humor should surely be well-received by publishers.
Hey, that’s pretty cool. I’ve read short story anthologies but they were the usual short stories — at least half a dozen pages with the usual (though foreshortened) setup, plotline and end. I didn’t know there was an actual market for micro stories. Though I’m sure some of the ones I’ve posted here would be a little strange out of the context of the CL posts that inspired them. (I’ll posts links to the originals when I put the story blog up to maintain that context.)
Sometimes the lack of context makes it all the more interesting…
Perhaps, though I think some would read a little bizarrely (er, well, more bizarrely) without context. Although I could always add a passage or two to help clear things up a bit, as I already plan to edit many of them a bit on the blog when it goes up, just to correct any errors and get rid of any of those esprit d’escalier moments I wish I’d thought of at the time of posting.
Kind of “director’s cuts” I guess.
There are many that you’ve posted that could be stand-alones as they are right now. Was just a thought and an encouragement 🙂
Thanks. 🙂 And true enough. They’re all on the list for the blogosphere at any rate, set to confuse the masses. (Or at least YSaC alum.)
It’s time for…
Fun With Anagrams
toddler punkbeds
————————–
Bedded Knot Slurp
Budded Kelp Snort
Blended Dorks Put
Deb Toddler Spunk
Bedpost Led Drunk
Blonds Duped Trek
Kerb Toddled Puns
Bulks Prodded Ten
Bunt Sledded Pork
Bled Ed Drunk Pots
Sounds like some kelp got drunk and started telling bad jokes and/or snorting cocaine?
YSaC, where have you been all my life? How have I gotten through the long days and nights without you before discovering you last week and reading all the posts up to today’s? All hail llamanun.
Bees be upon her.
Welcome! Where have *you* been all of *YSaC’s* life? Hmm??
Did you read just the posts, or the comments, too? I read the posts, but not the comments — I didn’t start reading comments ’til I’d read the archives, and then I just started with the current day and decided to de-lurk.
Yay! New commentator!
Drmk, can we keep her? Can we? Pleeeaaase? We promise to take her for walks and change the litterbox whenever it smells!
And I guess we can remember to feed her, too.
Stacy, you’re okay with a diet of coffee slices, right? Good.
Sammiches for all!
*hands out plates and napkins* Who had the dumpster chips last? Any left?
Welcome, Stacy! I have a flask should you need it.
Perhaps we should save the flask ’til Hammy and Taco start beating the crap out of the line again. Unless she’s already read through the comments, in which case, leave the bottle.
Huh. We haven’t given the line a good tongue-lashing in a while. I think it may even have skulked back in here.
I’m sure we can fix that.
We also haven’t seen much of Taco or Grampdaddy lately. Might explain the line’s presence. Hammy can’t do it alone.
It’ll be a hard on to pull off, but I think we can all come through to deflower the line again.
Gotta grab the opportunity when it presents itself. Give it a few good whacks to the head and it’ll be spitting out its pearly whites and slinking away with its tail between its legs.
Penis.
(Just making sure.)
You are such a couple of cumpets!
You guys are using my name in vain!
I knew you cared :*-)
Welcome, welcome! Yay for MST3K!
And yay for Lola’s flask <3
Thank you, thank you. I read almost all of the comments from all the posts. I feel like I’m home. ::sniff::
Now that there is some dedication.
I guess then the only thing left to do is to introduce our guest greeter, Ty Pennington!
Ty: “Welcome home, Stacy and family, welcome home.”
Thanks, Ty. Now go finish my bookcase.
Wow. I’m impressed. That’s dedication — or boredom. Are you snowed in? On doctor-mandated bedrest? House arrest?
Regardless, I’m thrilled that you enjoy the site, and I hope you’ll join our family. (One of us! One of us!)
I wish I had discovered this site when I was on bedrest for 3 weeks! It would have been fantabulous… I’m sure there are posts I haven’t read all the comments for :-p
toddler punkbeds
*Anagram fun*
Stork Puddle Bend (Just down the road from Bug Tussle)
Red Pot Dusk Blend (dooooood)
Blurted, Desk Pond (Tourette’s?)
Bold Spud Trek Den (To go where no tater has gone before)
Lend Desk Turd Bop (Lets dance!)
Knelt, Prodded Sub (Dropped my $5 foot long)
Odd Perk, Lend Tubs (Job benefit at the Jacuzzi factory)
Edit: Oops, didn’t see Astro’s post.
Sure.
At least there’re no repeats.
Sure. At least there are no repeats.
D:
Repeats sure, are at least there, no?
[Really bad Yoda impression] Mmmm, yes, repeats there are none. [/terrible Yoda impression]
So, Jarasane, I mean, SaraJane, did you even realize you were in the box all day long? Punchity Punch Punch. hehehe. Stealth punches, when you didn’t think to get the helmet and padding. 8)
G’Night, Punker Hill!