Areola Grande posted:

BoldFrankensteinMir posted:

Well done, Dwarf friends.

Whistle a tune as you light your pipe, on a pile of dead lower-case g's!
of the hundred and fifty one, ho ho, the hundred and fifty one please!

Of Dopey and Peaky and Lumpey and Kevin
And Flatulantradon

Of Naily and Goey and Jerky and Stumpy
And Knad and Yttrium

Of Mauvey and Moovie and Tibby and Tobby
And Titty and Mr Knocko

Of Orangey and lovely and Soupy and Goatsy
And Blastwice, and old Bilbo

And Tally and Crummy and Globby and Pukey
And "Fast Fingers" Freddy and Hollywood

And Mr. Mine, Plague Doc, Gassy and Flamey
And the dwarf you can't tell (they're too good!)

And Biggy and Smally and Smally and Smally
and Smally and Smally and Smally and Smally
and Smally and Smally and Smally and Smally
and Smally and Smally and Smally and Smally
And so on and so forth (and Smally)

And Fucko and Poopi and Poopo and Pipi
And Wonky and Trotsky and Fucky

And that Australian dwarf that I shall not name
And Sassy and Spidey and Lucky

And Smoko and Namey and Tommy Knocker
And Sammy, Incelly, and Entsy

And Pussyfooty and Slam Duncan
And Army and Bigs and Wentsy

And Reginald, Hidey, Boney and Clammy
And Porky and Rotblight and Gimli

Teryaki and Molly and Iffy and Sumi
Bonery, Metaphorey and Similey

Leonardo Da Winky and Hiney and Barfy
And Whoopsy and Bussy and Talky

Tragedy, Delivery, History, Nosey
and Penny and Slumpy and Floppy

And Frenchy and Lolly and, poo poo, rear end, and Slappy
And gently caress, Fucky Jr Other Fucky,

DJ Dwarf, Brick and Booky, and Naughty, and Knotty
And Gnawty and Jerry and Plucky

And Clippy, Mauricey, Floccinaucinihilipilificator
and Hurty and Mrs. Floccinaucinihilipilificator

And Singy and Turkey and MoriArty
Papa Gnome Slumpy Hurdy, and Noisy

Guacamoly and Industry, Chi Chi, Rigatoni
Cardi, Cardi B, Edamame, and Boise

Sanitary and Nutty and Butti and Numpy
And Brony, and Dwarf 2.0

Notsy, Illuminaty, Tony Hawk and Finally
Technically, Firsty, Culottes and Ho

What a hard tune to whistle, a dwarf might say as he zips along on his skis
of the hundred and fifty one, ho ho, the hundred and fifty one please!

Barking Gecko posted:

BoldFrankensteinMir posted:

PKMN Trainer Red posted:

BYOB isn't a forum it's a state of mine. Imagine all your buds are over having a cool brewski and one of them just told a great joke and another one is pulling pizza rolls out of the oven. Those pizza rolls? That's BYOB.

watho posted:

watho posted:

Sherbert Hoover posted:

she slid into the room like jelly dripping off toast, and slid into my life like tom cruise in socks. she had a shell for days and titties so human they were dreading tax day.

Barking Gecko posted:

google THIS posted:

But I'm in so deep
You know I'm at the hostpital
They're telling me I lost my fingat
Do you have to let it lingat?
Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it lingat?

Finger Prince posted:

google THIS posted:

Kaiser Schnitzel posted:

https://voca.ro/1j6UlfxBIS45

How Wonderful! posted:

First thing's first is I get a job in town, not a good one, but a job. And every week I make a small deposit down at the bank under an assumed name. Just little drips. Maybe a slice of bread. Maybe a piece of cheese. Maybe a couple of handsome wet lettuce leaves. Why? So when anybody asks why I'm hanging around outside the bank on a weekday morning, I can say, why, I'm here to make a deposit and I guess I got here early. Here's my card. Here's my account.

But really?

What I'm doing is watching the trucks. Every morning, like clockwork, the trucks. Taco trucks. Halal trucks. Icecream trucks. Burger trucks. Trucks full of samosas. Trucks heavy with breakfast sandwiches, the kind that come wrapped up in foil and exhaling curls of smoke, the good kind, the kind that make you forget what the rest of the day has balled up in a hard fist behind its back. They pull up, the lunch trucks, with the same heavy-lidded drivers, the same cigarette-smoking men who ferry their hauls into the bank with empty expressions, the same tired old men keeping watch in the back with unloaded pistols at their soft, pale hips... and I'm right there watching. Learning. Remembering.

And all this time I'm going to work and coming home and going to work and coming home, and the dame is there waiting for me, a little less patient every day, asking when? When? And I say hold your horses doll-face. Lunch happens when it happens. And maybe she's had a little to drink and she'll scratch and swap at my face and cry and keep saying when when when until she tires out but every night it ends the same, the two of us coiled together on the kitchen floor, whispering "patience, patience," into each others' hair.

The hardest part besides the waiting is modifying the trailer. We bought a big, handsome trailer, the kind that hitches onto the back of a truck, that the suburban parents and the fat retirees like to buy to take on their vacations or move into their suburban dream homes. A huge, unwieldy thing. But ours is different. A false back on a hinge, a kind of secret door-- large enough to eat lunch in front of. Large enough to hide a truck behind.

Finally, the day comes. It's pizza day down at the bank. Folino's has a truck out front, and I watch the trim young men hop out and head in. The driver ambles off to have a cigarette around the corner. That means it's just me and the squirrely old man with the gun. I'm fine with that. Killing's an ugly business but it's an ugly world. I leap in silently, and take the springy dough out of my pocket, forming a loose, flat disc. I prefer to work with plain bread flour, like I learned in the war. New York boys talk a big game about semolina, the special water in the faucets, but that's not what this is about. I toss the dough in the air a few times, spinning it like a roulette wheel, and then it's over the old man's head, and he's kicking, and then, before long, he's not kicking at all, and he'll never be kicking again. 40 seconds. That gives me plenty of time and at this point it's like I can smell the lunch, can taste it on my tongue. But not yet, not really.

I slip a couple pepperonis in the ignition, an old trick but a good one, and I'm on the road, taking the corners hard and reckless, and before long I'm backing into the trailer. I'm giddy and I feel the dame pull out and onto the highway and I know we're on our way to the picnic spot, and I feel every bump in the road. I can't take it anymore. I start ripping into the burlap sacks jostling all over the back of the truck, I need to know what's for lunch. And then I see it. The scuffed cardboard corners, the sickly yellow packaging. It's a Lunchable. Pepperoni pizza. Snickers. You've seen it and you know it too. My heart sinks and I toss it aside, digging for hot crispy pizza underneath. But my fingers dig into more cardboard. Lunchable, Lunchable, Lunchable. I tear open the next bag and it's Lunchables as far as the eye can see. I can't help it. I start laughing. I start laughing at the tasteless beige crust and the sugary sweet sauce and the cold, starchy cheese and I keep laughing, I laugh when the feds pull us over and I laugh when they drag me into my prison and I'm laughing now, strapped to the electric chair, I'm laughing at the pious faces of the guards and the wardens and the prison chaplains, and I'm laughing and I'm laughing and on my lips I have only the taste of Capri Sun. Pacific Cooler flavor.

Dr. Honked posted:

done

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjDrR-kxrjI

B33rChiller posted:

East coast early risin' sumthin sumthins. Guess I'm havin hand soup for breakfast.

treasure bear posted:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5pt6U2rVUc

cruft posted:

This fsaturday!

https://voca.ro/133TRUi9sj6d

It's kinda quiet, sorry, I couldn't figure out how to boost the volume.

watho posted:

if it takes several hours to play a game of monopoly you're doing something wrong

your friend sk posted:

yeah, playing monopoly

Viginti Septem posted:

A lurker visited a Yobber.
The lurker was astonished to see that the Yobber's home was a simple room.
The only furniture was a keyboard and a hammock.

Lurker: "Yobber, where is your furniture?"
Yobber: "Where is yours?"
Lurker: "Mine? But I'm only a lurker here."
Yobber: "Hi, only a lurker here, I'm dad."

Dumb Sex-Parrot posted:

Finger Prince posted:

Cider-Man, Cider-Man,
Drinking his cider from a can
Spins a yarn, any size,
Catches hell from his wife
Look Out!
Here comes the Cider-Man.

Is he strong?
Listen bud,
He's got alcohol instead of blood.
Can he walk to the door?
Take a look on the floor.
Hey, there
There goes the Cider-Man.

In the chill of night
Drinking down at the pub
Apples back at the farm
Fermenting in the tub.

Cider-Man, Cider-Man
Friendly neighborhood Cider-Man
Wealth and fame
He's ignored
Scrumpy is his reward.

To him, life is a great big piss up
Wherever there's a knees up
You'll find the Cider-Man!

Barking Gecko posted:

vanisher posted:

dweepus, reciting their wedding vows: "Hayley Williams, the American musician, best known as the lead vocalist and one of the founding members of the rock band Paramore, in which you also play the keyboard, I wish to commit my life to you. I know in late 2007 you began dating New Found Glory lead guitarist Chad Gilbert, and I know Chad's infidelity was revealed as the reason you divorced in 2017. Look me in the eyes Hayley. I will never do that to you, or so help me my name isn't dweepus. I know you previously publicized your decisions not to smoke, drink alcohol, or use recreational drugs, though you now drink alcohol. I'll never judge you for that. In 2022, you endorsed Democratic nominee Beto O'Rourke in the Texas gubernatorial election. I praised your efforts even though his policies were a little heavy handed for the state at the time."

google THIS posted:

vanisher posted:

FutonForensic posted:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hxd0WyJUK7c

Viginti Septem posted: