- Joined
- Apr 7, 2013
- Messages
- 137,364
Test...
- Thread starter EZ22
- Start date
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2013
- Messages
- 17,446
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2004
- Messages
- 11,888
I'm assuming she got the proper discipline when she got home?
She definitely got a spanking.
L.T. Fan
I'm Easy If You Are
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2013
- Messages
- 21,875
But why deddy.
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2013
- Messages
- 137,364
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2004
- Messages
- 11,888
My son who is a Jr in HS just destroyed 23 college credits with a 3.5. Those included intermediate algebra, college algebra, A & P I & II, Eng. Comp I & II and nutrition. He is registered for 19 hours this summer and another 22 in the fall. He will graduate HS in December and possibly with an associate degree in biology at the same time. If not he will be done in May with that. He has one minor hurdle to get over for acceptance into a 48 week intensive RN program starting in January. So he should be an RN by the time he is 19 and a few months.
Plus he's an all-state football players at two positions, weighs 180 and squats 430.
Also, he is a great kid who loves the Lord and has never had premarital sex, Tebow style. Suck it haters!
That is my incredibly annoying brag on my kid.
Plus he's an all-state football players at two positions, weighs 180 and squats 430.
Also, he is a great kid who loves the Lord and has never had premarital sex, Tebow style. Suck it haters!
That is my incredibly annoying brag on my kid.
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2004
- Messages
- 11,888
Naw, that's my oldest son.
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2013
- Messages
- 137,364
Ahh okay cool. BTW that's still moms favorite cross.
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2004
- Messages
- 11,888
Nice.
L.T. Fan
I'm Easy If You Are
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2013
- Messages
- 21,875
That's also D Day.
Bob Roberts
Professor StinkFinger
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2013
- Messages
- 3,023
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2013
- Messages
- 17,446
Damn, I hope this kid never breaks his ankle.
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2013
- Messages
- 17,446
James K.
Fort Lauderdale, FL
5/20/2013
A friend and I stopped in here a few weeks ago. We had a coffee and a pastry which were both remarkably mediocre.
However, that night I had the strangest dream! Yes, a dream that the following took place. It is therefore not a claim that this happened, and therefore not begging to be say, oh I don't know, deleted? Although I suspect that the store bought pastry I had may have brought it on which makes it relevant. Very, very relevant....
[wavy dream sequence lines...]
Upon entering, we were greeted by a warm and engaging Samy who hustled us excitedly, and totally not at all rudely, to the nearest table. While perusing the best, and most honest and forthcoming, menu on planet earth, I hardly noticed that Samy had removed our shoes and was giving us pedicures! He said it was 'just one of those things we do!' Now THAT is service.
After our leg massages (although a little high up the thigh, Samy you rascal, this is a family show!) we ordered Caesar salads to start followed by a pizza and totally not ever shipped from 500 miles away ravioli. We were thrilled to wait the 3 hours for the salad to arrive as Amy came out of the kitchen to fawn over the staff and perform a little soft shoe for her adoring, and totally not starving, fans. Initially we thought the dressing was contrived over spiced crap, but Samy was kind enough to remind us that, although by a conservative estimate we had eaten over 43,000 meals in our lives, we have no fucking idea what we are talking about and we should probably just shut the fuck up. We all had a good laugh!
The fig jalapeno mutton black truffle oil velveeta shallot mango pizza arrived a barely perceived 53 minutes later. Lest anyone think that it looked like a luke warm, soggy pile of cow shit with smaller lumps of multi colored shit all over the top of it making us want to vomit, I can assure you friendly reader, it most certainly did not. Minutes after gutting down the skittles pizza we both began to uncontrollably projectile vomit and foul our pants simultaneously. Samy stopped by to remind us that not only did we not know how to eat, we knew even less about shitting and puking. Right again Samy. Right again.
Next up, the pepper encrusted okra pelican corn sweet spicy sour turnip sea snail, totally not shipped from 500 miles away, ravioli took our breath away. Along with the rest of the contents of our stomachs and bowels. Samy complemented us on improving our technique since the last bout but wisely cautioned us not to 'get big heads over it fucksticks'. He reminded us of his 'gangster' status and that he and his gang of other greasy haired 108 year old foaming at the mouth raving psychopath friends would 'fuck our asses up' and steal our gramophones, and our bicycles with giant front wheels and tiny rear wheels.
Amy then emerged from the kitchen wild eyed and ranting about 'the haters' and accused us of being among their ranks. But when she found out how much we had been threatened to enjoy her 'food' she broke into an interpretive dance that involved smearing our excrement all over her body as an acceptance of our compliment. Oh look at the time! It was 5:36am two days after we had arrived. Samy promptly doubled our check, added a 36% tip which he then pocketed, and after a little more soft shoe from Amy we went merrily on our way as she lovingly screamed obscenities at us in way of a final farewell.
Bravo Samy and Amy.
Bravo.
Fort Lauderdale, FL
5/20/2013
A friend and I stopped in here a few weeks ago. We had a coffee and a pastry which were both remarkably mediocre.
However, that night I had the strangest dream! Yes, a dream that the following took place. It is therefore not a claim that this happened, and therefore not begging to be say, oh I don't know, deleted? Although I suspect that the store bought pastry I had may have brought it on which makes it relevant. Very, very relevant....
[wavy dream sequence lines...]
Upon entering, we were greeted by a warm and engaging Samy who hustled us excitedly, and totally not at all rudely, to the nearest table. While perusing the best, and most honest and forthcoming, menu on planet earth, I hardly noticed that Samy had removed our shoes and was giving us pedicures! He said it was 'just one of those things we do!' Now THAT is service.
After our leg massages (although a little high up the thigh, Samy you rascal, this is a family show!) we ordered Caesar salads to start followed by a pizza and totally not ever shipped from 500 miles away ravioli. We were thrilled to wait the 3 hours for the salad to arrive as Amy came out of the kitchen to fawn over the staff and perform a little soft shoe for her adoring, and totally not starving, fans. Initially we thought the dressing was contrived over spiced crap, but Samy was kind enough to remind us that, although by a conservative estimate we had eaten over 43,000 meals in our lives, we have no fucking idea what we are talking about and we should probably just shut the fuck up. We all had a good laugh!
The fig jalapeno mutton black truffle oil velveeta shallot mango pizza arrived a barely perceived 53 minutes later. Lest anyone think that it looked like a luke warm, soggy pile of cow shit with smaller lumps of multi colored shit all over the top of it making us want to vomit, I can assure you friendly reader, it most certainly did not. Minutes after gutting down the skittles pizza we both began to uncontrollably projectile vomit and foul our pants simultaneously. Samy stopped by to remind us that not only did we not know how to eat, we knew even less about shitting and puking. Right again Samy. Right again.
Next up, the pepper encrusted okra pelican corn sweet spicy sour turnip sea snail, totally not shipped from 500 miles away, ravioli took our breath away. Along with the rest of the contents of our stomachs and bowels. Samy complemented us on improving our technique since the last bout but wisely cautioned us not to 'get big heads over it fucksticks'. He reminded us of his 'gangster' status and that he and his gang of other greasy haired 108 year old foaming at the mouth raving psychopath friends would 'fuck our asses up' and steal our gramophones, and our bicycles with giant front wheels and tiny rear wheels.
Amy then emerged from the kitchen wild eyed and ranting about 'the haters' and accused us of being among their ranks. But when she found out how much we had been threatened to enjoy her 'food' she broke into an interpretive dance that involved smearing our excrement all over her body as an acceptance of our compliment. Oh look at the time! It was 5:36am two days after we had arrived. Samy promptly doubled our check, added a 36% tip which he then pocketed, and after a little more soft shoe from Amy we went merrily on our way as she lovingly screamed obscenities at us in way of a final farewell.
Bravo Samy and Amy.
Bravo.