Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Modern Solutions


The_Scum said...

May I be furst to comment taking shit off teens is not worth it. Major bone of contention between Hens and me. I just won't take it.

I'd recommend (and have) a 9mm or Glock 21 rather than a dog collar.

Of course my spawn are angels.


Suck on that furst d!!!!!

D said...

Excuse me: I am spawn-free. My life is blissfully devoid of all of the trials and terrors of children - no crappy diapers, no last minute school projects due the next day, no tearful midnight calls to bail them out of jail, and etc.

You can be furst in line at the reproductive tent, thank you anyway Father of Angelic Spawn.

The_Scum said...

"You can be furst in line at the reproductive tent"

Are you offering me a woman to reward my furstiness?

D said...

there are other furrows for your plow

Lavi D. said...

You can be furst in line at the reproductive tent...

It is my fervent hope that when immortality is perfected, those without children get the first treatments.

Of course, given the level of dumbth exhibited by the protozoa currently in office, I'm not entirely certain they won't come up with some idiocy justifying the "value" of parents over the childless, regardless of the rather obvious danger of massive over-population.

Rock Candy said...

Where the hell was this device a few weeks ago when I needed it?!?!?

Why didn't you post the 800 number so I could whip out my credit card and order one...errr make that a dozen?

This post is from the brilliant woman...excuse me...the hen that thought spacing kids out was smart. The oldest turned 13 in 1998...the youngest will be out of her teenage years in the year 2016...what the hell was I thinking?!?!

Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas ... with the music at top volume and at least a pint of ether.

-Hunter S. Thompson

Dedicated to the other side of Las Vegas, namely; the sprawling, mad, incoherent underpinnings of the world's favorite destination.

That, and the occasional ranting about nothing in particular.