mocking people without pants
I just want to take a moment to mock someone [who will remain nameless — and really will and I do not do that much] who cannot fit into her pants.
I know it is wrong.
I am just like that.
I just want to take a moment to mock someone [who will remain nameless — and really will and I do not do that much] who cannot fit into her pants.
I know it is wrong.
I am just like that.
29 Responses to mocking people without pants
hmm… too bad …
Did you see my name on Gut to Cut? Damn that You Tube!
This post is tricky. This could apply to any number of us.
Well the person it applies to is going to flat out know. So if you have to wonder, you are not it.
[I have visions of villagers with torches now, everyone who read that post and thought it might apply, heading for loft Max. Wait, if I put my card on the bad violent neighbor guy’s door, this could really work out….]
Kind sounds like an ex-girlfriend of mine. Not the :can’t fit into her pants” part, but the torches part.
Her name was “Sarah,” right?
Actually, it was, “Sara”, but close. Really close. HA!
Spelling Nazi.
Grrr.
Mocking is such fun isn’t it. I hear it comes back ten fold though which should be interesting for you.
I wish you were not holding a charred zen garden rake when you said that.
Jennifer, did you just say “Gut to Cut?”
Ouch!
Sniff. That hurts.
Actually, ya’ll, we are looking at the wrong side of the glass – maybe the person lost weight and the pants FALL off.
It could mean that.
:::whistling:::
Her pants fell off? Sounds like another woman I knew once. If I could only remember her name…lemme see…what was her name? Dammit! I forget.
Let me guess, Tommy. Will I spot it in a freezer when I got the serious munchies?
You put Doritos in the freezer? That’s just too weird.
I’m not really a Doritos sort of girl, but I do like PIE when I’m drunk. Hint, hint.
Oh, sh1t, that sounded not like the way I intended it to sound.
Oh. My. God. My freaking neighbor just put on some sort of German military marching music.
What the hell? Is he some escaped Nazi?
Hey, so you like a little pie now and then when you’re drunk. You’re not the first woman do like that and you won’t be the last. It’s okay. I’m not going to judge you. HA!
Shut up Tommy! One day at some unexpected future blogger’s party I’m going to waste champage on your face!
Max, is it Wagner?
Maybe he read your blog and read what’s his face’s advice about German classical music and turning it really loud to make him leave and he’s mocking you?
You need some D DAY music.
I’m about to put on some music, too.
“What is love, baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, anymore…”
What? I’m just talking about pie. Geeze. Sweet, delicious, warm, mouth watering pie.
Not Wagner. It was something with heil-ish marching singing. Gadzooks.
Maybe he’s beating his girlfriend to it.
Ack.
Maybe he’s torturing her with it? Either that or she’s busy taking apart things and putting them back together again.
They are just very odd people. Sigh. It was only a burst of music but — German marching music with singing? Very weird.
There are some bodies being chopped up. You need to investigate further.