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Yesterday I was driving downtown to work, and I notice some movement in the car in front of me, it looked like someone's dog was overexcited and jumping around in their car. Then I noticed that it was a pretty cat looking dog. I pull up next to the car, and it's a goddamn lynx. Someone was calmly driving their Hyundai downtown with a loving huge goddamn lynx pacing around in the car, jumping between front and back seats continuously.
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Sep 15, 2011 09:19
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Big Hairy Wah posted:Today a hedgehog tried to eat me. I saw him heading towards the road and went in to get something to pick him up with and I came back expecting him to run away, or curl up into a ball or something, but no; he walked right up to me and started nibbling my shoe Humboldt squid posted:Yesterday I was driving downtown to work, and I notice some movement in the car in front of me, it looked like someone's dog was overexcited and jumping around in their car. Then I noticed that it was a pretty cat looking dog. I pull up next to the car, and it's a goddamn lynx. Someone was calmly driving their Hyundai downtown with a loving huge goddamn lynx pacing around in the car, jumping between front and back seats continuously. Neither of these stories is  as much as they're loving awesome.
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Sep 15, 2011 17:34
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I concur. I've always wondered what having a hedgehog was like  and I (think, could be misremembering) have seen a few small bobcats and the occasional armadillo at my grandma's house in the countryside. Lynxes and bobcats are awesome.
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Sep 15, 2011 17:38
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Humboldt squid posted:Yesterday I was driving downtown to work, and I notice some movement in the car in front of me, it looked like someone's dog was overexcited and jumping around in their car. Then I noticed that it was a pretty cat looking dog. I pull up next to the car, and it's a goddamn lynx. Someone was calmly driving their Hyundai downtown with a loving huge goddamn lynx pacing around in the car, jumping between front and back seats continuously.  Reminds me of Ricky Bobby, that's loving awesome.Malachite_Dragon: one of my good friends kept a hedgehog as a pet for awhile, it was cute at first, but eventually she got tired of him being a huge rear end in a top hat and sold him. Pretty entertaining see the little guy repeatedly get his head stuck in a toilet paper roll tube though. She never did paint him blue either 
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Sep 15, 2011 18:18
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movax posted:
Hah! A friend of mine also has a hedgehog, I forget his name at the moment, who is apparently an oddity, as far as hedgies go. He's grumpy, all the time. She takes good care of him, cleans his cage and feeds him well and all that, but he's not a good-natured bumbler. No no, he's a grouchy little bastard who grumbles when she picks him up and spends his days either in spikey-ball mode or asleep, one of the two. I like to imagine he's the hedgehog equivalent of the crochety old man who stands on his porch yelling at those drat kids to piss off and hands out pencils at halloween 
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Sep 15, 2011 18:53
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Malachite_Dragon posted:Hah! A friend of mine also has a hedgehog, I forget his name at the moment, who is apparently an oddity, as far as hedgies go. He's grumpy, all the time. She takes good care of him, cleans his cage and feeds him well and all that, but he's not a good-natured bumbler. No no, he's a grouchy little bastard who grumbles when she picks him up and spends his days either in spikey-ball mode or asleep, one of the two. I like to imagine he's the hedgehog equivalent of the crochety old man who stands on his porch yelling at those drat kids to piss off and hands out pencils at halloween Mine was grumpy for a while after I got her, but now she is all for giving me cuddles and trying to annoint with whatever vague smells she finds on my hands. Definitely not for everyone, and I wish I had done more research before getting her, but I love mine.
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Sep 15, 2011 19:48
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Malachite_Dragon posted:I've always wondered what having a hedgehog was like  Just ask Dinsdale. 
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Sep 15, 2011 21:50
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Hedgehogs are the best animal Anyway it had a happy ending. I put him in a box with a big fluffy towel and fed him some chicken then phoned the SSPCA and a nice man took the hedgehog away to fatten him up for the winter 
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Sep 15, 2011 22:06
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Where do you live? According to wikipedia, you do not live in Australia or the Americas. Wish I could just walk outside and spy a hedgehog doin' his thang.
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Sep 16, 2011 06:03
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The Scientist posted:Where do you live? According to wikipedia, you do not live in Australia or the Americas. Wish I could just walk outside and spy a hedgehog doin' his thang. Scotland. But they don't usually come out in the daytime, if they are it can mean they're sick or in this case an adolescent too small to hibernate.
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Sep 16, 2011 10:22
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I am somewhere in my early 20s, and working in a bakery. Or rather, not working, at the time of this particular happening, as it was my lunch break. Being a fairly nice day, I had scrounged something to eat and sat on the grass in a park-ish area to eat. It was small, but nicely taken care of - a little corner of the city with a fountain, small grass beds, benches and tables, precisely for my purpose. A small group of pigeons had become attracted to the fountain in particular, and would walk along the edge, wetting themselves and taking drinks while I idly observed them, lost in my own thoughts. A needed rest. Then the largest, blackest cat I've ever seen burst out from underwater, wrapped the whole of his mutant bulk around a helpless bird, and returned his prize to the briny deep. I love nature.
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Sep 17, 2011 09:19
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Umbilical Lotus posted:I am somewhere in my early 20s, and working in a bakery. Or rather, not working, at the time of this particular happening, as it was my lunch break. Being a fairly nice day, I had scrounged something to eat and sat on the grass in a park-ish area to eat. It was small, but nicely taken care of - a little corner of the city with a fountain, small grass beds, benches and tables, precisely for my purpose. A small group of pigeons had become attracted to the fountain in particular, and would walk along the edge, wetting themselves and taking drinks while I idly observed them, lost in my own thoughts. A needed rest. I do believe you've spotted the rare "urban catfish".
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Sep 17, 2011 09:22
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My story begins in the city of Gothenburg on the Swedish west coast, known for its friendly people and relaxed atmosphere. It was early June and high school graduation had rolled around, meaning there were a lot of drunken teenagers in the streets doing their damnedest to get even more drunk. My evening walk was thus marked by several minor moments, but nothing unusual. All that changed when I passed by the cathedral. Now, it should be mentioned that the cathedral sits right in the middle of the city and there were hundreds of people around. The cathedral grounds themselves were largely empty apart from a trio of female high school graduates wearing the traditional white dresses and caps. One of them, basically held standing by the other two, seemed to be having a biological emergency as she would go from laughing to sobbing and back again while her knees went all over the place. Finally she decided that the best thing to do was make her intentions known.  "I HAVE TO poo poo!"Her friends let go of her and could not stop laughing as she stumbled around for a few seconds, desperately trying to find her bearings. While the grounds were not that big, it was still a decent plot of land. Several bushes around to hide in while doing her business. However, deciding that such cowardice was not her style, she marched out into the middle of the open and, after a few false starts, managed to squat down. Right on top of a grave. Moments later she let loose a fart that likely woke said grave's occupant, then added to the dead man's horror by releasing an absurd amount of excrement onto his final resting place. I could never have imagined that amount of poo poo coming out of a girl her size, and nor could she apparently as she started laughing uncontrollably. Her friends joined in, as did some random bystanders, lifting their beer bottles into the air as if to salute her defecation skills. She carried on voiding her bowels for a good twenty or thirty seconds, creating a pile of impressive dimensions. When she was finally done, she stumbled a bit, went to pull her underwear up and... "Oh gently caress I pissed myself too!"There was, indeed, a noticeable stain on the front of her virgin white dress. Suddenly concerned about her appearance, she tried to bat at her groin with one hand while struggling with her underwear with the other. This sort of coordination was of course not possible in her drunken state, and she stumbled, tripped and crashed backwards into the stone marking the grave. Despite being well dug in, it was clearly not prepared for that sort of force and gave away. Now sitting at a forty-five degree angle out of the ground, it proved to be an excellent resting position for the drunken girl who decided to take the chance to remove her underwear entirely. Hanging them from her cap, she beamed a triumphant smile and got to her feet with some help from her friends. And that is when the stench hit me. I was standing at least a good ten metres away, yet the very air around me took on a repugnant odour similar to that of rotten flesh. Whatever she had eaten in the days prior, it had turned into the foulest refuse I had encountered since my visit to the compactor room at the local water purification plant. I was gagging, but it was obviously ten times worse for the criminal herself. She took a few whiffs and then, without missing a beat, projectile vomited squarely into the pile of poo poo on the grave. Cheers were heard from bystanders again, though some got busy throwing up themselves due to the stimuli, both olfactory and visual. When the trio finally managed to stumble out of the cathedral grounds, they ran into a group of four guys coming from the opposite direction. There was a few seconds of confusion as they found their respective paths blocked, but then the main character once again showed why she owned the night. Ripping herself free from her friends, she practically fell onto one of the boys and kissed him, messily. Both parties cheered and formed a single group, slowly making its unsteady way down the street. I just shook my head and went on my way, knowing that there was no way this night could get any weirder. Now, this was definitely the moment of that year, but exactly one year later I received an update. It was graduation time again and I was passing by a school when I suddenly saw the girl from that night standing in front of the gate. She was easy to recognize since she had the same hairstyle and was wearing the same drat dress. More importantly, she had a baby carriage with her. In it lay a child no more than two months old, happily snoozing away. As I passed her by I saw the guy she had kissed that night one year ago come walking up to her and putting his arm around her shoulder.So yeah, after making GBS threads, pissing and vomiting on a grave and dressing her head in stained underwear, she still manages to get laid... only to get knocked up. She then decides to keep the kid and gets together with the daddy.
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Sep 17, 2011 11:40
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Arthur D Wolfe posted:My story begins in the city of Gothenburg on the Swedish west coast, known for its friendly people and relaxed atmosphere. It was early June and high school graduation had rolled around, meaning there were a lot of drunken teenagers in the streets doing their damnedest to get even more drunk. My evening walk was thus marked by several minor How romantic!  "Daddy, how did you and mummy meet?" "Well son, that's an interesting story..."
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Sep 17, 2011 12:09
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Here's a moment that didn't make me until about a year after it had happened. I was 21 and at school in a mostly quiet college town just south of the Canadian border.* At the time I was (still) dealing with a bad breakup in the way only a naive kid with too much spare time can. A saintly circle of my friends listened to me piss and moan and generally helped me hang in there, but at the time I was still a mess. One night my roommate and I went to a friend's apartment for a beer or ten, and at some point my ex showed up. Hey, no big deal; by then she was part of the group and besides, the two of us still went out for dinner and shopping all the time because we'd become such close friends despite our breakup. (I know, I know, but I didn't know any better at the time.) She was at least as clueless as me about breakup etiquette. Naturally, I had a pretty dim view of her current beau and was holding onto some quixotic fantasy about winning her back from this total loser. Over cigarettes she started to tell my other friend about this new guy she was seeing. I don't know what she was thinking. I don't think she was trying to gently caress me up, but it was definitely time for me to leave. I made my excuses and started the long walk back to my dorm in the freezing night. Just as I was really starting to wish that I'd held out for a ride back or a warmer jacket or something, this black SUV pulls up behind me on the deserted street. A middle-aged Asian woman dressed for clubbing asks me if I want a ride home. I figure that I could probably take her if things got weird, and I'm so twisted up in my misery that I don't even consider that she's probably just some cougar looking for a college boy to bed. Sure. Why not. On the way through campus, she tells me that the club was dead that night and she was still looking to have some fun. Why don't I come back to her place? She's even got drugs! No, thank you. I'm starting to regret not listening to every adult who ever told me not to accept rides from strangers, and I'm not about to move on to taking drugs and sex from strangers. Anyway, I'm already at the dorm so I get out of the car, still parrying her offers. It made for an all right story for a little while, but not a story. Right? Wrong.About a year later, I was living off-campus with the roommate and other friend from that night. I picked up a copy of our godawful school newspaper to read on the bus home, and I was reading a local story/interview on the front page. The reporter had scored an interview with a semi-legendary local personality I'd never heard of known only as "the Black Widow." It sounded like a bunch of bullshit, but there was even a quotation from a local police chief about how over the past decade they'd received a handful of reports from college-aged men who had been picked up by an attractive older Asian woman who would take them to her apartment and offer them  and sometimes sex. (I should point out that nearly everyone in this town smokes drugs or is at least unfazed by them. It's a holdout for the old guard of hippiedom) The story cites the common thread of these encounters is this "Widow's" quarry becoming too intoxicated to notice her penis when the clothes came off. All I can think as I read this story is how familiar it was beginning to sound...I'm sure I'm getting some of the details wrong, because the more I try to recall exactly what the article said the more surreal it sounds to me. What with the delayed revelation, I had actually sort of forgotten this whole episode until I was beginning to post a much tamer story from when I worked at a summer camp. Considering its urban legend cred, I probably wouldn't have believed it. You know, if I wasn't there. *After rereading this whole thing and realizing how flimsy it sounds, I'll mention that the town was Bellingham, WA. If any internet sleuth feels like trying to find the newspaper article in question, it was in The Western Front sometime in the 2009-2010 school year. Good luck. e: Internet sleuth, ha. Quick google reveals the story here: http://westernfrontonline.net/lured-into-the-web-top-stories-artslife-3326 I don't know where I got "over the past decade" from. 
Five Year Plan has a new favorite as of 15:38 on Sep 17, 2011 |
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Sep 17, 2011 15:14
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I like turtles posted:My moment of Abraham?
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Sep 17, 2011 17:26
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ItsNotAGirlName posted:Search for "cyoc.net" on Google, that takes you to the actual site. Listen to this man. Also, why the Mormon redirect? Is there some connection between mormons and people who want to be pokemons that I'm missing? E: the second plane full of cognitive dissonance just hit my brain. Why did I type that sentence? Why am I not horrified? What have I become? Ogive has a new favorite as of 19:07 on Sep 17, 2011 |
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Sep 17, 2011 18:58
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Ogive posted:Listen to this man. Also, why the Mormon redirect? Is there some connection between mormons and people who want to be pokemons that I'm missing? I wonder if you can't link directly from Something Awful.
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Sep 18, 2011 00:46
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I wouldn't be surprised because god-loving-drat, that is some of the most horrid bullshit I've ever read, it was like furries, pedophiles, and transformation fetishists all got into a room and collaborated on the worst website to ever exist.
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Sep 18, 2011 03:00
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Once, I was waiting for the bus, and there was a small group of pigeons, maybe 4 or 5, clustered next to me on the curb. I was looking at one of them, kind of zoning out but still watching it jump off the curb and onto the side of the street, when the bus pulled up and its passenger-side wheel rolled directly onto the pigeon. It was maybe 3 feet away from me, and the worst part is that the pigeon was centered perfectly under the tire and its wings were poking out of either side. The wings flapped for a moment afterward.
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Sep 18, 2011 08:20
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Fascinator posted:Once, I was waiting for the bus, and there was a small group of pigeons, maybe 4 or 5, clustered next to me on the curb. I was looking at one of them, kind of zoning out but still watching it jump off the curb and onto the side of the street, when the bus pulled up and its passenger-side wheel rolled directly onto the pigeon. It was maybe 3 feet away from me, and the worst part is that the pigeon was centered perfectly under the tire and its wings were poking out of either side. The wings flapped for a moment afterward. I saw a pigeon get smashed a grocery store like that once. Thinking about the wet crunching sound still makes me uncomfortable nine years later.
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Sep 18, 2011 20:13
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I like turtles posted:I saw a pigeon get smashed a grocery store like that once. Thinking about the wet crunching sound still makes me uncomfortable nine years later. I've run over more pigeons than I can count. I figure if they're too loving dumb to get out of the way, it's their own drat fault.
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Sep 18, 2011 20:38
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Speaking of pigeons, one time I was walking with my friend and looked down just in time to avoid stepping on 2 pigeon wings that looked like they got ripped right off the bird, it was weird though, the wings were perfectly spaced and positioned or whatever and it had looked like the bird just disappeared and forgot his wings.
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Sep 19, 2011 04:36
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Maybe he had to catch a bus?
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Sep 19, 2011 05:45
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KozmoNaut posted:I've run over more pigeons than I can count. That's horrible.
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Sep 19, 2011 05:47
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KozmoNaut posted:I've run over more pigeons than I can count. There's something wrong with your brain.
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Sep 19, 2011 06:21
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As long as we're talking about avian genocide, my dad keeps track of his kill tally of birds who hit his car v v Two confirmed kills and one unconfirmed- Heard and felt it thump but never found the body, so either it just bounced off or it vaporized to Dimension X. It's not like he goes out of his way to hit them, the little bastards just don't get out of the way in time and he's more concerned about other cars then flying rats.
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Sep 19, 2011 08:12
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My sister's friend hit a pigeon the day after passing her driving test. Feathers everywhere apparently.
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Sep 19, 2011 08:50
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Chantilly Say posted:There's something wrong with your brain. I drive along on a street going maybe 40-50kph. A pigeon is in the middle of my lane. I reduce my speed until I am stopped right in front of the pigeon. The pigeon doesn't move. I honk my horn. The pigeon still doesn't move. I run over the goddamned pigeon. What am I supposed to do, get out of my car and carry the disease-ridden flying rat off to the sidewalk, all the while I'm blocking traffic behind me?
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Sep 19, 2011 13:49
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No, you're fine. It's a pigeon, not a baby.
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Sep 19, 2011 14:31
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That pigeon was only 4 days away from retirement! Pigeon retirement is gut-wrenchingly boring, you probably did it a favour.
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Sep 19, 2011 14:36
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I once ran over a pigeon that flew directly under my rear wheel. This is only noteworthy because this is my car (I inherited it from my grandmother, an enthusiastic birdwatcher and photographer).
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Sep 19, 2011 15:09
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They see something like 75 'frames' of info per second, which is why they wait until the last second to get out of the way. If they're not paying attention it's really their fault.
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Sep 19, 2011 15:09
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I was playing golf about to hit a tee shot when a hawk comes barreling down and takes out a squirrel. I'm maybe 20 feet away and this hawk calmly starts tearing into its meal, pulling out all the gooey red stuff. It was kind of weird.
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Sep 19, 2011 15:28
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RKTM posted:Speaking of pigeons, one time I was walking with my friend and looked down just in time to avoid stepping on 2 pigeon wings that looked like they got ripped right off the bird, it was weird though, the wings were perfectly spaced and positioned or whatever and it had looked like the bird just disappeared and forgot his wings. Sounds like it ran afoul of one of these badass motherfuckers:  These are peregrine falcons, and they are pretty much the coolest animal ever. See, they have this unique way of hunting prey. They get way high up and cruise around until they see some chump bird flying beneath them, and they do this loving majestic power dive and ram right into the fucker. And they hit hard. A peregrine falcon at full speed can clear 200 mph. A cheetah can't do that. Your divorced, balding uncle's corvette that he's barely making the payments on but who cares because at least he's a free man can't do that. Anyway, peregrines are a real conservation success story. Their natural habitat is towering, flat cliffsides. At some point, somebody took a look at the specs and realised that these fuckers would feel right at home in the city. They're built for darting in and out of alleyways and between cars, and there's plenty of food for them with the pigeon problems most cities have, which brings me to your pigeon wing sighting. See, falcons haven't developed Frank's hot sauce, so when they smash a pigeon right out of the air, those wings are a liability. Very low meat-to-junk ratio. Instead, they just rip the whole back off right there and fly home with the important part. So any time you see a pair of wings that look like they were just yanked clean off a pigeon, you can take pride in the fact that your town is home to the fighter jet of the animal kingdom.
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Sep 19, 2011 17:35
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Pidgeons get out of the way of our cars, we look the other way on the statue defecation. We had a deal! 
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Sep 19, 2011 17:44
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RandomFerret posted:you can take pride in the fact that your town is home to the fighter jet of the animal kingdom. My town sure is:  The back of the office (indoors) had feathers all over the place for days.
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Sep 19, 2011 17:59
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Back in high school I worked a summer job at a small-town private aviation airport. The job was great, since whenever the weather was bad, nobody would fly in, and I could sit and read magazines for $11 an hour. The one disturbance of my summer in slacker's paradise came during the weekend of the annual offshore fishing tournament. For those unfamiliar with big money fishing, it involves a bunch of assholes with private jets who come in from all over to try and win an obscenely large pile of cash by catching the biggest googeley-eyed fish. When fifty planes show up all at once on Friday at 7pm, their pilots all want a coffee and a bathroom, and their owners all want a car and their ninth drink of the day. It is kind of hectic. When they all leave on Sunday, sunburnt and on the tail end of a three-day drunk, hectic does not begin to describe it: It is midday Monday, and a few stragglers who were too sick or drunk to leave on Sunday are staggering out of their rented Lexus and making for the tarmac. I tell the pilot of one of the last few jets that his clients are back, and he goes to do his pre-flight. Apparently the guys from the Lexus weren't his, as a minute later a couple walks through the tarmac and out to the pilot, who ushers them aboard. First One of the fishermen from the Lexus staggers up to my counter, looks me blearily in the eye and announces -matter of factly- that he would like to buy a Learjet. I explain that there is no Learjet dealership in this airport. In fact, while there are two King-Airs and a Citation on the tarmac, there is not a Lear to be found. He persists. Thinking he might mean 'from me', I continue to explain that I do not own a Learjet. I make $11 an hour, and am in high school. I really can't help him. Our man is not dissuaded. He pulls out one of those black credit cards; the invitation only, not-even-God-could-pass-the-credit-check, must spend fifty thousand per week to qualify kind, and slams it down on the counter. "Wan'm mbuy ua Leeeeeerjt." I again tell him he is out of luck, and he dejectedly shuffles off. happily, one of the other guys from the Lexus happens by, and I ask him to please keep an eye on his friend. Second I hear over the radio that the plane with the couple is ready to go. I'm about to look out the window to watch them taxi by, when all of a sudden the pilot comes back with "N - - - Juliet: Terminal, we have an obstruction on the ramp." As I check the window, I am greeted with the sight of Mr. Credit Card standing about three feet in front of the plane, pissing on the front landing gear, presumably using the logical inference "if I pee on it, that makes it mine."
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Sep 22, 2011 02:02
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mllaneza posted:My town sure is: To contribute, I had a mild case as a result of this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRy7V3DE65g The first mindbender was a pretty normal one: "how the hell is this related to tea party footage?" The fact that the sidebar was now full of foot videos wasn't particularly weird, given that this is the internet and all. But then I read the description bit that said "By some strange miracle, they never noticed me, even though my knuckle grazed her foot trying to get that close-up (her foot was kind of cold)" and realized that this dude is hunched under a desk ramming his camera around girls' feet. I immediately went into mindsaving mode and convinced myself that it was staged. There's just no way a person wouldn't notice a panting creeper up against their feet. It's impossible. Even if you were too embarrassed or freaked out to do anything you would HAVE to move your legs or something. Then it occurred to me that this is probably an entire fetish based around secret foot voyeuring and how brave they are for doing it so I had to go lay down for a while
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Sep 23, 2011 23:45
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i'm not through with all the good stuff in this thread, but i feel like sharing a family story. in the light of recent events, some of it might sound like i made it up, but as so often, reality is far more bizarre than most things that one can invent. My Aunt One of my older memories from the early/mid 80s starts with me walking into my aunt's house right next to the house of my grandparents. Upon entering the lobby, i spotted a big, carved golden frame with an image of a man in sandy-colored uniform wearing lots of shiny medals. wondering who that was, i asked my aunt. She meant it was Col. Gadaffi, a revolutionary. some time later, i learned that she was mentally ill. schizophrenia, nothing that you could grasp as a child. she phantasized that she would marry Gadaffi, that the cia is after her, that her own mother wants to poison her, etc. There were times, when she took her medication, and times when she didn't and then this or that episode would surface. Sometimes something new, sometimes more violent, sometimes just plain paranoia. When i was 10 or so, the family of my father's side came to blows about money and heritage (they made her the main heir lol). So dad broke off all the contact and i never saw that part of the family again. A few years back my cousin would get into touch with my dad eventually, every now and then he went up there to pay a visit. So, one afternoon the phone rings. it's my cousin, he lives next door to my crazy aunt. he's worried, he hasn't seen her for a week or so. in her late years, she wouldn't let anyone inside the house. he tried to ring her out, but nothing. so dad drives up there, they try to ring, call, nothing. so they figure, ok, maybe she's injured, gently caress it, we'll get an axe and cut down the loving door. they smash in the door. what follows is hard to describe. this part of the house was maybe 130m³, pretty high rooms and all. there was an immense stench, trash and what have you up to the ceiling. you had to crawl to reach something like a trench that connected to the other rooms. they had to get flashlights, cos apparently the trash covered all lights inside. a few pages back, some guy wrote something about brown air. it's probably not unrealistic to assume something like this here. all that trash up to the ceiling consisted of cans, newspapers, leftovers, hell, all the waste that a single human produces in a bunch of years. Eventually they found her, she drowned in the bathtub, disfígured from the water. probably dead a week. the house was ruined, it took months and alot of money to get all the trash out, eventually they took it down. most of the money and land that she inherited was gone, untraceable. 20 years back, she had some arab friends, who always needed money. those guys were talking about revolution and this and that. i guess you can buy a few of AKs with several million €s. or maybe some animal shelter got lucky. you decide. Ah, lower austria. where ppl die from drinking themselves to death with style, drowning in manure pits and getting run over by tractors. Power Khan has a new favorite as of 19:20 on Sep 26, 2011 |
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Sep 26, 2011 15:52
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