Home from San Onofre. Flatter then yesterday's root beer. Sewer line Bldg.#1, toilet #1 burst, pouring untraeted waste unto the point waters, hazy, South wind, Outlook bleak. One positive thing, the road's wide open, speed limit raised, 25 MPH.
"As an American I am not so shocked that Obama was given the Nobel Peace Prize without any accomplishments to his name, but that America gave him the White House based on the same credentials."
Bill worked in a pickle factory. He had been employed there for a number of years when he came home one day to confess to his wife that he had a terrible compulsion.
He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer. His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill indicated that he'd be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own.
One day a few weeks later, Bill came home absolutely ashen. His wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong.
"What's wrong, Bill?" she asked.
"Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?"
"Oh, Bill, you didn't."
"Yes, I did."
"My God, Bill, what happened?"
"I got fired."
"No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?"
6 comments:
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Why do you wan2bee surfers not listen to talk radio and leave we serious surfers alone.
What a got' awful blog this is. Get some conent, man. Who's the Blog Director, anyways.
[anon'2]
Home from San Onofre. Flatter then yesterday's root beer. Sewer line Bldg.#1, toilet #1 burst, pouring untraeted waste unto the point waters, hazy, South wind, Outlook
bleak. One positive thing, the road's wide open, speed limit raised, 25 MPH.
"As an American I am not so shocked that Obama was given
the Nobel Peace Prize without any accomplishments to his
name, but that America gave him the White House based on
the same credentials."
Bill worked in a pickle factory. He had been employed there for a number of years when he came home one day to confess to his wife that he had a terrible compulsion.
He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer. His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill indicated that he'd be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own.
One day a few weeks later, Bill came home absolutely ashen. His wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong.
"What's wrong, Bill?" she asked.
"Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?"
"Oh, Bill, you didn't."
"Yes, I did."
"My God, Bill, what happened?"
"I got fired."
"No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?"
"Oh...she got fired too."
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