You shan't be wanting to lubricatifies them too much, lassie. Sometimes, they when they gets too slippery they just pops out. (Official "Don't Look Below® Alert")
Posted on 01/01/2012 8:10:22 AM PST by Gen.Blather
I met some illegal Mexicans last night at a party. Several years ago I stayed with a couple of wonderful Mexican families in the Baja below California. These were well-off people. The homes, on average were beautifully tiled and some of them had mahogany inlaid walls, bookshelves and cabinetry that would cost a hundred-thousand dollars here. So, I’m guessing if they aren’t rich they’re very comfortable. The elderly not as well-off grandfather, while living in Mexico was receiving Social Security from the United States and owned a rent-free apartment in California which he used as his address to receive several forms of assistance checks from Californian agencies. He visited the apartment once a week to re-arrange things and make it looked lived in. He had a car, a Toyota Corolla that looked quite nice and had working air-conditioning. I gathered it was supplied as some form of assistance and he generally left it in California at the apartment. The apartment was about 1100 square feet and very livable. The grandfather told me most of entire complex, easily a 1000 units, were like him, on Californian assistance, but actually living in Mexico.
At the party were a couple of teenage boys from this family. Very nice kids. I’d be proud to have them as my own; diligent, hard working, trouble-free and much more adult than you’d expect from that age. They told me that they’d decided to go to high school in California instead of Mexico. They said that the (California) government gave them an apartment and they travel back to Mexico on the weekends. (I don’t know if they’re staying alone or if a family member is staying with them, but if I had to guess, they came alone.)
When I posted information on this family last time, Freepers angrily asked why I hadn’t reported them. Firstly, I was a well-treated guest. Secondly, this must be obvious to the casual observer. Even if I knew who to report it to in California, which I don’t, it is obvious that this is how it’s done. These people are only taking advantage of “benefits” put there for them. Not to avail themselves of these benefits would be like deciding not to take candy freely offered to you.
I’ll share your beets, but I draw the line at giving up guacamole.
I'd say this means war, but only if we can work it into our schedules and it's a Nerf-type thing with unlimited time-outs when we can share anecdotes and hors d'oeuvres. Definitely hors d'oeuvres. And a newsletter with clip art. We need a War Newsletter with a mailing list.
Did I mention matching t-shirts and silly hats?
I had to see my optometrist. It became impossible to wear my contacts. It’s some type of weirdness that causes “hills and valleys” on the corneas. She said she’s never seen a pattern like mine tho. She recommended Systane Balance eyedrops because it contains an oil that keeps the eyeballs super lubricated. Sure plays heck with my vision some days. Truly annoying.
Third house to the left. Just go outside and turn left. Go the third house, knock on the door and ask for the instructions. You must be firm. That's what Tax-chick told me to do when I joined this thread.
The instructions look surprising like a citation and the presentation ceremony involves festive flashing lights and the local constabulary.
That’s right - you must be firm! Otherwise, you’ll never get in the door.
You shan't be wanting to lubricatifies them too much, lassie. Sometimes, they when they gets too slippery they just pops out. (Official "Don't Look Below® Alert")
No kittehs were harmed in taking that ^ photo. Whether he LOL’d is under advisement.
OMG!!!! How can he do that?!
Smoke. And mirrors.
And a an unnerving amount of free time to practice.
There are still some stale chocolate chip cookies, and maybe some cocoa in the fridge, but you will have to supply your own rum.
I'm thinking stale chocolate chip cookies, sprinkled with cocoa, drenched in rum, microwaved for 1 min.
Mmmm. Thanks Face. Yummy, AND calorie free!
Anyone need a napkin?
LOLOL!
. . .
"Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it snow."
"Yeah. But I'm the one here with the Y'upiks, kicking the white stuff off my mukluks."
I'd like to see it performed musically, with the Roy-bot cheerfully singing Happy Trails,
And the hapless about-to-be-outcast plaintively reminding him that it isn't a fit night out for man nor beast.
The antagonistic juxtaposition is fraught with potential humor, especially as the music blends smoothly into almost a single melody.
.
Well, humor is a serious business.
Hmm. Maybe we could also background the duet with "I really must go", "Baby, it's cold outside" and "Button up your overcoat" and "Take good care of yourself".
We just might have the next "Hooked On Classics".
I've always preferred my fraughts with portent.
Nice tag.
Is that what God says to us in our dreams? I think so. :-)
Quite likely. It's also what Superchicken said to his sidekick, Fred, when he gave Fred the unpleasant stuff to do. Superchicken delegated things much the way that Marlon Perkins of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom always let Jim Fowler climb out of the boat to hold the anaconda. Or pick up the hissing wildcat. Or ask the natives with the pointy sticks if they were friendly natives.
I use the phrase with a smile whenever someone has a mild 'issue.'
Yes, we visited Scotland. That's where our moat-dwelling plesiosaur received an unexpected suitor. But we left there, crossing over the Pole, and stayed for a while off the coast of Hawaii while we gathered U-know-what from the ocean to fuel our Gas-Cooled Nuclear Reactor/Rocket Engines (that we now call Shuttles), but then we actually took off from near Eniwetok Atoll to go into orbit.
Just setting things straight.
"We have habitats, “He’s Touching me!” “Are We There Yet?” and “I Have To Go To The Bathroom!” Well, the last one, I’m not really sure of, but I’m sure Bob will correct me when he reads this."
The third is not accurate. We do have three Habitats, more familiarly known as Habitat A, Habitat B, and The Flying Castle.
They rotate around a common axis to give us Mars-normal artificial gravity, and we have a rotating mirror assembly to focus the wan sunlight out here in the Asteroid Belt (four-year orbit) and provide a twenty-four hour day. Each Habitat is on its own Time Zone, and separated from its neighbor by eight hours.
We get back and forth between the Habitats by riding spherical elevator cars in a tube network.
There, everything's clear now, right? (Other than the zombies, the under-levels, the shifting ways down there, the wine processing, the distillery, Tax-Chick's abominable kudzu and its ever-munching horde of goats, the asteroid Plymouth that we are mining, the maintenance crews that sky-dive from the canopy, the furnaces and their denizens making metal things to satisfy odd interests, the swamp and the forest, and all the restaurants and shops in Habs A and B, and perhaps a few things I might not have mentioned.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0O0MWxJkIg
Hmm.
Title of the song could be a slight hint as to what will happen in the rabbitoid tale.
Third house to the left. Just go outside and turn left.
That was originally my answer to the Instructions Question, above, but in a pinch it does double duty.
You forgot to mention that if you need to fart turn your buttocks towards Mecca.
Sorry.
I couldn’t resist.
“...“Infiltration Ninja Skills” merit badge.” lol!
(Just catching up; had to cross the river early this AM to get more mortar; the fog allowed visibility to about 20 ft. Expected a gaggle of grumbling rugs to swoop down from low-hanging clouds. Do they usually travel in flocks?)
G’night, y’all....
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