@yoop
Forum Replies Created
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- February 1, 2013 at 1:40 pm
Your typing skills are just fine. 20 years eh? Hmmm, do you know the secret in making the “perfect” Bloody Mary?
Resume not needed so we will skip to the interview. Question one. Johns moobs are swollen because he is nursing so where can he pick up a real good bro?
Question two..
Bill has penis envy but has a very nice boat, RV, house(s). How can he wipe away the ‘really old person’ funk from his body.
Your answers will be kept very confidential.
Yoop -
- February 1, 2013 at 1:40 pm
Your typing skills are just fine. 20 years eh? Hmmm, do you know the secret in making the “perfect” Bloody Mary?
Resume not needed so we will skip to the interview. Question one. Johns moobs are swollen because he is nursing so where can he pick up a real good bro?
Question two..
Bill has penis envy but has a very nice boat, RV, house(s). How can he wipe away the ‘really old person’ funk from his body.
Your answers will be kept very confidential.
Yoop -
- February 1, 2013 at 1:40 pm
Your typing skills are just fine. 20 years eh? Hmmm, do you know the secret in making the “perfect” Bloody Mary?
Resume not needed so we will skip to the interview. Question one. Johns moobs are swollen because he is nursing so where can he pick up a real good bro?
Question two..
Bill has penis envy but has a very nice boat, RV, house(s). How can he wipe away the ‘really old person’ funk from his body.
Your answers will be kept very confidential.
Yoop -
- February 1, 2013 at 1:28 pm
Sensitive?? Vulnerable?? Geez, I must be getting soft.
This place can now be called the “ManGina Monologue’s”. Anyone up for giving me a cyber hug? And why are we attacking my penis? Size is purely subjective but I’ll give you some perspective. Compared to John Holmes my penis = tiny. Now.. my penis compared to ‘ol Bill’s’ and I am John Holmes.
Nancylee is my heroine. Thank you. Have you talked with Dan in a while?
Thanks to Bill I now have this mental image of John looking like Phil Mickelson when he was chubbier. Sweat marks even under his moobs. Bleh.
And POW… Lookeee what you dun… Banter on the off topic.. Good job. And yes, I promised not to write the “P” word anymore but did. Tried to just whisper it but I can’t find that font on my IPad. Ha
Yoop -
- February 1, 2013 at 1:28 pm
Sensitive?? Vulnerable?? Geez, I must be getting soft.
This place can now be called the “ManGina Monologue’s”. Anyone up for giving me a cyber hug? And why are we attacking my penis? Size is purely subjective but I’ll give you some perspective. Compared to John Holmes my penis = tiny. Now.. my penis compared to ‘ol Bill’s’ and I am John Holmes.
Nancylee is my heroine. Thank you. Have you talked with Dan in a while?
Thanks to Bill I now have this mental image of John looking like Phil Mickelson when he was chubbier. Sweat marks even under his moobs. Bleh.
And POW… Lookeee what you dun… Banter on the off topic.. Good job. And yes, I promised not to write the “P” word anymore but did. Tried to just whisper it but I can’t find that font on my IPad. Ha
Yoop -
- February 1, 2013 at 1:28 pm
Sensitive?? Vulnerable?? Geez, I must be getting soft.
This place can now be called the “ManGina Monologue’s”. Anyone up for giving me a cyber hug? And why are we attacking my penis? Size is purely subjective but I’ll give you some perspective. Compared to John Holmes my penis = tiny. Now.. my penis compared to ‘ol Bill’s’ and I am John Holmes.
Nancylee is my heroine. Thank you. Have you talked with Dan in a while?
Thanks to Bill I now have this mental image of John looking like Phil Mickelson when he was chubbier. Sweat marks even under his moobs. Bleh.
And POW… Lookeee what you dun… Banter on the off topic.. Good job. And yes, I promised not to write the “P” word anymore but did. Tried to just whisper it but I can’t find that font on my IPad. Ha
Yoop -
- January 31, 2013 at 6:29 pm
Hi POW,
Hmmm, yes, we all use different coping mechanisms when dealing with anger and grief.
There was another board called the “Dark Side”, it was where the delinquents of cancer expressed themselves without abandon. Brutal sometimes but we all knew the rules…there were none. That board was taken down for various reasons.
It was an active board with very clever (mostly) people taking shots at each other and there were many differing thoughts shared with very descriptive overtones. Many came over to the off-topic, but because it had differing ‘rules’ than the dark side most left.
How about a story??? I wrote this last week.Hot Buttons
by SirWilho
”Billdo, Billdo, Billdo,” chides brother Gump at me.
”Honestly, if you call me that one more flippin’ time, I am going to rip your lips off,” says the red faced, blood boiling me.
”Whatcha gonna do? Hit me with your purse??… Billdo, Billdo, BilllllDooooo”
Size and age were against me so there I sat and took the abuse. Mannn, did I HATE that nickname Gump gave me. See… Billdo rhymes with … well it has to do with women doing something to get something from something and I liked it not.
I could have hit Gump’s Hot Button, but the sight of my own blood never did sit well with me. His hot button was to call him, MahhhKoooommmBa, based on features reminiscent to Neanderthals. (How do we know Neanderthals called each other MahhhKoooommmBa? Not sure and I guess it doesn’t matter)
The brothers and I are very attune to each others personality quirks, likes and dislikes and we share a twisted sense of humor. What is odd, is that we expect it from each other and revel in how fast and how mad we can make each other. Back when we were kids, a simple punch would crank you up. Now, since we are much more mature, simple brain attacks serve the same purpose. Afterward, all is good and we will even laugh about it. However, the Billdo name cranked me up, but that was when I was a kid and I really don’t care when the smiling brother calls me that now.
What made me think of this topic? Well, this morning, Brother Bishop called me at 8:30 A.M. It’s a Thursday and he should be at work so something must be wrong and I answer the phone. “What’s up?”, says me. “Nuttin, just calling you,” Bishop says with a smile in his voice. Now I know everything is good but he took the day off for a reason. He’s not hunting, he’s not ice fishing and I think real hard why he has the day off. Then it hits me.
”You are off to see the dentist in Marquette, aren’t you?” I ask. “Yep… you got it,” says Bishop.
I instantly feel me blood pressure rise and I shouldn’t let it bother me. Here is why it does… Marquette is 88 miles from Bishops house… one way. This dentist… (he says)… cuts him a deal for the two gold crowns that run about a grand a piece.
Here’s my issue. His dentist sucks, flat out SUCKS. Bishop goes there at least, (no lie) once a month. The crown will fall off, the mold didn’t work, crown fell off again, now need a root canal, new tooth needs new crown…. endless, f’ing endless. He then takes a day off of work each time to drive there. IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE… gas money, eating out… its just not right.
You’re right… Why should I care? It’s not my problem but it drives me nuts for some reason. Then… he calls me throughout the day…. ringg, ringgg…. “Yeah?” says me. “We’re just driving to the dentist,” he says. Click. Ringg, ringgg… “Yeah?” says me. “We’re at Pondi, having something to eat before going to the dentist.” he says. Click. Ringg, ringgg…. “Yeah?” says me. “Just sitting and waiting at the dentist office.. the ‘Dr.’ is running late.” Click. Ringg, ringgg… “Yeah?” says me.. “It sure is dark driving back from the dentist,” says he.
This morning when I was talking to Bishop about this, I tried…. really tried, not to say something but then it just came out and there was no stopping my foul mouth from spewing, (once again) all the reasons why he shouldn’t drive there. This took five minutes off my life and I used every swear word there is. Bishop begins to giggle, then chuckle, then laugh just because he got me cranked up.
Brother Sprout? Just take a huge swig out of his one and only water or pop and leave him with backwash swirling on the bottom. Instant swearing. He also likes to take little ‘snickey snackey’s’ along when we plan a day in the woods. I usually don’t bring anything. Well, I never do but sure get hungry and need a snack after walking around all day.
He will even resort to hiding them someplace in the truck. I am a bloodhound when it comes to his snacks. Since I am a planner, I plan on getting to the truck before Sprout and indulge in a few of his snacks. “What’s on your goatee? Is that ChexMix remnants?” he asks. “Nope,” says the smiling me. “If you touched any of my f’ing snacks I am going to punch you. Now…WHERE THE ‘F’ DID YOU PUT THEM,” the agitated Sprout demands. Then… he goes off.
Pappy is easily agitated and you can spin him out quick. I have about a hundred instances but will recount only one.
Mom grew up in Covington, about 50 miles from where we lived, and five or six times a year we would all load up and take the seemingly eternity drive up there.
Now imagine, 4 boys…. (All needing Ritalin, but it wasn’t invented yet) and two adults in an old Ford Montego. No portable DVD players, Ipods, or hand held devices… Nuttin’ to keep us occupied. Ever see a raccoon in a live trap? Now imagine 4 raccoon’s in 1 live trap. Brutal on us, but more brutal on our parents. After numerous threats and several hair pullings we were instructed to keep our yaps shut and not move a muscle. There we sat and I had my feet under the seat in front of me which was the Driver’s seat…. Pappy’s seat….
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle my shoes under his seat so that he can feel it on his butt. “Quit messing around with your feet Billy!” Pappy says nicely. “Sorry,” says me. Two minutes or so go by. Wiggle, wiggle, the feet move without instruction. “I said Quit it Billy,” “Oops, sorry. I forgot.” Three minutes go by and now my feet are sweating because they just want to wiggle so bad and irritate Pappy. Wiggle they go and I can’t stop them. “DID YOU JUST WIGGLE YOUR FEET AGAIN BILLY?” button pushed Pappy screams. “Nope,” the very nervous but trying to remain calm me says softly.
Five minutes go by and my mind is consumed with only one thought. Wiggling my feet. Wigg…. and a hand faster than a lightning bolt somehow snaps off the steering wheel, reaches behind the seat and smacks me upside the head. My wiggling obsession was quickly snuffed out with that one smack.
So there, something for everyone in this story. Sad and weird that making someone mad becomes amusing. However, I watched Americas Home Video’s last night and the world must love to see a guy get hit in his nads so hitting someone’s hot button and finding enjoyment from it must not be that weird… right? -
- January 31, 2013 at 6:29 pm
Hi POW,
Hmmm, yes, we all use different coping mechanisms when dealing with anger and grief.
There was another board called the “Dark Side”, it was where the delinquents of cancer expressed themselves without abandon. Brutal sometimes but we all knew the rules…there were none. That board was taken down for various reasons.
It was an active board with very clever (mostly) people taking shots at each other and there were many differing thoughts shared with very descriptive overtones. Many came over to the off-topic, but because it had differing ‘rules’ than the dark side most left.
How about a story??? I wrote this last week.Hot Buttons
by SirWilho
”Billdo, Billdo, Billdo,” chides brother Gump at me.
”Honestly, if you call me that one more flippin’ time, I am going to rip your lips off,” says the red faced, blood boiling me.
”Whatcha gonna do? Hit me with your purse??… Billdo, Billdo, BilllllDooooo”
Size and age were against me so there I sat and took the abuse. Mannn, did I HATE that nickname Gump gave me. See… Billdo rhymes with … well it has to do with women doing something to get something from something and I liked it not.
I could have hit Gump’s Hot Button, but the sight of my own blood never did sit well with me. His hot button was to call him, MahhhKoooommmBa, based on features reminiscent to Neanderthals. (How do we know Neanderthals called each other MahhhKoooommmBa? Not sure and I guess it doesn’t matter)
The brothers and I are very attune to each others personality quirks, likes and dislikes and we share a twisted sense of humor. What is odd, is that we expect it from each other and revel in how fast and how mad we can make each other. Back when we were kids, a simple punch would crank you up. Now, since we are much more mature, simple brain attacks serve the same purpose. Afterward, all is good and we will even laugh about it. However, the Billdo name cranked me up, but that was when I was a kid and I really don’t care when the smiling brother calls me that now.
What made me think of this topic? Well, this morning, Brother Bishop called me at 8:30 A.M. It’s a Thursday and he should be at work so something must be wrong and I answer the phone. “What’s up?”, says me. “Nuttin, just calling you,” Bishop says with a smile in his voice. Now I know everything is good but he took the day off for a reason. He’s not hunting, he’s not ice fishing and I think real hard why he has the day off. Then it hits me.
”You are off to see the dentist in Marquette, aren’t you?” I ask. “Yep… you got it,” says Bishop.
I instantly feel me blood pressure rise and I shouldn’t let it bother me. Here is why it does… Marquette is 88 miles from Bishops house… one way. This dentist… (he says)… cuts him a deal for the two gold crowns that run about a grand a piece.
Here’s my issue. His dentist sucks, flat out SUCKS. Bishop goes there at least, (no lie) once a month. The crown will fall off, the mold didn’t work, crown fell off again, now need a root canal, new tooth needs new crown…. endless, f’ing endless. He then takes a day off of work each time to drive there. IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE… gas money, eating out… its just not right.
You’re right… Why should I care? It’s not my problem but it drives me nuts for some reason. Then… he calls me throughout the day…. ringg, ringgg…. “Yeah?” says me. “We’re just driving to the dentist,” he says. Click. Ringg, ringgg… “Yeah?” says me. “We’re at Pondi, having something to eat before going to the dentist.” he says. Click. Ringg, ringgg…. “Yeah?” says me. “Just sitting and waiting at the dentist office.. the ‘Dr.’ is running late.” Click. Ringg, ringgg… “Yeah?” says me.. “It sure is dark driving back from the dentist,” says he.
This morning when I was talking to Bishop about this, I tried…. really tried, not to say something but then it just came out and there was no stopping my foul mouth from spewing, (once again) all the reasons why he shouldn’t drive there. This took five minutes off my life and I used every swear word there is. Bishop begins to giggle, then chuckle, then laugh just because he got me cranked up.
Brother Sprout? Just take a huge swig out of his one and only water or pop and leave him with backwash swirling on the bottom. Instant swearing. He also likes to take little ‘snickey snackey’s’ along when we plan a day in the woods. I usually don’t bring anything. Well, I never do but sure get hungry and need a snack after walking around all day.
He will even resort to hiding them someplace in the truck. I am a bloodhound when it comes to his snacks. Since I am a planner, I plan on getting to the truck before Sprout and indulge in a few of his snacks. “What’s on your goatee? Is that ChexMix remnants?” he asks. “Nope,” says the smiling me. “If you touched any of my f’ing snacks I am going to punch you. Now…WHERE THE ‘F’ DID YOU PUT THEM,” the agitated Sprout demands. Then… he goes off.
Pappy is easily agitated and you can spin him out quick. I have about a hundred instances but will recount only one.
Mom grew up in Covington, about 50 miles from where we lived, and five or six times a year we would all load up and take the seemingly eternity drive up there.
Now imagine, 4 boys…. (All needing Ritalin, but it wasn’t invented yet) and two adults in an old Ford Montego. No portable DVD players, Ipods, or hand held devices… Nuttin’ to keep us occupied. Ever see a raccoon in a live trap? Now imagine 4 raccoon’s in 1 live trap. Brutal on us, but more brutal on our parents. After numerous threats and several hair pullings we were instructed to keep our yaps shut and not move a muscle. There we sat and I had my feet under the seat in front of me which was the Driver’s seat…. Pappy’s seat….
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle my shoes under his seat so that he can feel it on his butt. “Quit messing around with your feet Billy!” Pappy says nicely. “Sorry,” says me. Two minutes or so go by. Wiggle, wiggle, the feet move without instruction. “I said Quit it Billy,” “Oops, sorry. I forgot.” Three minutes go by and now my feet are sweating because they just want to wiggle so bad and irritate Pappy. Wiggle they go and I can’t stop them. “DID YOU JUST WIGGLE YOUR FEET AGAIN BILLY?” button pushed Pappy screams. “Nope,” the very nervous but trying to remain calm me says softly.
Five minutes go by and my mind is consumed with only one thought. Wiggling my feet. Wigg…. and a hand faster than a lightning bolt somehow snaps off the steering wheel, reaches behind the seat and smacks me upside the head. My wiggling obsession was quickly snuffed out with that one smack.
So there, something for everyone in this story. Sad and weird that making someone mad becomes amusing. However, I watched Americas Home Video’s last night and the world must love to see a guy get hit in his nads so hitting someone’s hot button and finding enjoyment from it must not be that weird… right? -
- January 31, 2013 at 6:29 pm
Hi POW,
Hmmm, yes, we all use different coping mechanisms when dealing with anger and grief.
There was another board called the “Dark Side”, it was where the delinquents of cancer expressed themselves without abandon. Brutal sometimes but we all knew the rules…there were none. That board was taken down for various reasons.
It was an active board with very clever (mostly) people taking shots at each other and there were many differing thoughts shared with very descriptive overtones. Many came over to the off-topic, but because it had differing ‘rules’ than the dark side most left.
How about a story??? I wrote this last week.Hot Buttons
by SirWilho
”Billdo, Billdo, Billdo,” chides brother Gump at me.
”Honestly, if you call me that one more flippin’ time, I am going to rip your lips off,” says the red faced, blood boiling me.
”Whatcha gonna do? Hit me with your purse??… Billdo, Billdo, BilllllDooooo”
Size and age were against me so there I sat and took the abuse. Mannn, did I HATE that nickname Gump gave me. See… Billdo rhymes with … well it has to do with women doing something to get something from something and I liked it not.
I could have hit Gump’s Hot Button, but the sight of my own blood never did sit well with me. His hot button was to call him, MahhhKoooommmBa, based on features reminiscent to Neanderthals. (How do we know Neanderthals called each other MahhhKoooommmBa? Not sure and I guess it doesn’t matter)
The brothers and I are very attune to each others personality quirks, likes and dislikes and we share a twisted sense of humor. What is odd, is that we expect it from each other and revel in how fast and how mad we can make each other. Back when we were kids, a simple punch would crank you up. Now, since we are much more mature, simple brain attacks serve the same purpose. Afterward, all is good and we will even laugh about it. However, the Billdo name cranked me up, but that was when I was a kid and I really don’t care when the smiling brother calls me that now.
What made me think of this topic? Well, this morning, Brother Bishop called me at 8:30 A.M. It’s a Thursday and he should be at work so something must be wrong and I answer the phone. “What’s up?”, says me. “Nuttin, just calling you,” Bishop says with a smile in his voice. Now I know everything is good but he took the day off for a reason. He’s not hunting, he’s not ice fishing and I think real hard why he has the day off. Then it hits me.
”You are off to see the dentist in Marquette, aren’t you?” I ask. “Yep… you got it,” says Bishop.
I instantly feel me blood pressure rise and I shouldn’t let it bother me. Here is why it does… Marquette is 88 miles from Bishops house… one way. This dentist… (he says)… cuts him a deal for the two gold crowns that run about a grand a piece.
Here’s my issue. His dentist sucks, flat out SUCKS. Bishop goes there at least, (no lie) once a month. The crown will fall off, the mold didn’t work, crown fell off again, now need a root canal, new tooth needs new crown…. endless, f’ing endless. He then takes a day off of work each time to drive there. IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE… gas money, eating out… its just not right.
You’re right… Why should I care? It’s not my problem but it drives me nuts for some reason. Then… he calls me throughout the day…. ringg, ringgg…. “Yeah?” says me. “We’re just driving to the dentist,” he says. Click. Ringg, ringgg… “Yeah?” says me. “We’re at Pondi, having something to eat before going to the dentist.” he says. Click. Ringg, ringgg…. “Yeah?” says me. “Just sitting and waiting at the dentist office.. the ‘Dr.’ is running late.” Click. Ringg, ringgg… “Yeah?” says me.. “It sure is dark driving back from the dentist,” says he.
This morning when I was talking to Bishop about this, I tried…. really tried, not to say something but then it just came out and there was no stopping my foul mouth from spewing, (once again) all the reasons why he shouldn’t drive there. This took five minutes off my life and I used every swear word there is. Bishop begins to giggle, then chuckle, then laugh just because he got me cranked up.
Brother Sprout? Just take a huge swig out of his one and only water or pop and leave him with backwash swirling on the bottom. Instant swearing. He also likes to take little ‘snickey snackey’s’ along when we plan a day in the woods. I usually don’t bring anything. Well, I never do but sure get hungry and need a snack after walking around all day.
He will even resort to hiding them someplace in the truck. I am a bloodhound when it comes to his snacks. Since I am a planner, I plan on getting to the truck before Sprout and indulge in a few of his snacks. “What’s on your goatee? Is that ChexMix remnants?” he asks. “Nope,” says the smiling me. “If you touched any of my f’ing snacks I am going to punch you. Now…WHERE THE ‘F’ DID YOU PUT THEM,” the agitated Sprout demands. Then… he goes off.
Pappy is easily agitated and you can spin him out quick. I have about a hundred instances but will recount only one.
Mom grew up in Covington, about 50 miles from where we lived, and five or six times a year we would all load up and take the seemingly eternity drive up there.
Now imagine, 4 boys…. (All needing Ritalin, but it wasn’t invented yet) and two adults in an old Ford Montego. No portable DVD players, Ipods, or hand held devices… Nuttin’ to keep us occupied. Ever see a raccoon in a live trap? Now imagine 4 raccoon’s in 1 live trap. Brutal on us, but more brutal on our parents. After numerous threats and several hair pullings we were instructed to keep our yaps shut and not move a muscle. There we sat and I had my feet under the seat in front of me which was the Driver’s seat…. Pappy’s seat….
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle my shoes under his seat so that he can feel it on his butt. “Quit messing around with your feet Billy!” Pappy says nicely. “Sorry,” says me. Two minutes or so go by. Wiggle, wiggle, the feet move without instruction. “I said Quit it Billy,” “Oops, sorry. I forgot.” Three minutes go by and now my feet are sweating because they just want to wiggle so bad and irritate Pappy. Wiggle they go and I can’t stop them. “DID YOU JUST WIGGLE YOUR FEET AGAIN BILLY?” button pushed Pappy screams. “Nope,” the very nervous but trying to remain calm me says softly.
Five minutes go by and my mind is consumed with only one thought. Wiggling my feet. Wigg…. and a hand faster than a lightning bolt somehow snaps off the steering wheel, reaches behind the seat and smacks me upside the head. My wiggling obsession was quickly snuffed out with that one smack.
So there, something for everyone in this story. Sad and weird that making someone mad becomes amusing. However, I watched Americas Home Video’s last night and the world must love to see a guy get hit in his nads so hitting someone’s hot button and finding enjoyment from it must not be that weird… right? -
- January 31, 2013 at 1:22 pm
Sorry if my response was offensive to anyone.
I missed the fine print in the rules of posting regarding SATIRE…
Definitely a faux pas relating to the norms in cancer speak.
Never again will cancer, penis and breasts be uttered or writ in said passage. There.
Yoop -
- January 31, 2013 at 1:22 pm
Sorry if my response was offensive to anyone.
I missed the fine print in the rules of posting regarding SATIRE…
Definitely a faux pas relating to the norms in cancer speak.
Never again will cancer, penis and breasts be uttered or writ in said passage. There.
Yoop -
- January 31, 2013 at 1:22 pm
Sorry if my response was offensive to anyone.
I missed the fine print in the rules of posting regarding SATIRE…
Definitely a faux pas relating to the norms in cancer speak.
Never again will cancer, penis and breasts be uttered or writ in said passage. There.
Yoop -
- January 30, 2013 at 9:45 pm
Nice hearing from you John,
Yeah, no Bonnie Lea in a while, hopefully she will drop by.
Wow, Jedd is crawling all over? This time in their lives always made me nervous, the constant trying to pull up, falling.. Yikes. Sure is fun watching them grow.
No more renting out houses anymore. Done.. A big pain in the arse.
Stalker dude left his calling card again last night I heard. I wonder what a person gets from stalking.
Me to unknown guy, “So, whatcha do fer fun?” ” I stalk,” replies stalker. “Stalk?” “Yep,I F’ing stalk now shut up or I will stalk you.” Hmmm, odd.. The mind of a stalker.
See, now you are on to something relating to the Dear Abby comment. Almost like ‘Jimmy the bartender’ in Men’s Health. Maybe certain people then have areas of expertise like you are the vet guy, Marie is tramp stamp chick, bill gives advice on how to disguise ‘old person smell’ and boats and how to post pictures. Dan can pretty much chime in anytime. Yawn is the pharaoh. Roxanne…. Weather, Bonnie Lea- bears/camping. I could go on and on but have to create some sort of sustenance for two growing kids.
Yoop -
- January 30, 2013 at 9:45 pm
Nice hearing from you John,
Yeah, no Bonnie Lea in a while, hopefully she will drop by.
Wow, Jedd is crawling all over? This time in their lives always made me nervous, the constant trying to pull up, falling.. Yikes. Sure is fun watching them grow.
No more renting out houses anymore. Done.. A big pain in the arse.
Stalker dude left his calling card again last night I heard. I wonder what a person gets from stalking.
Me to unknown guy, “So, whatcha do fer fun?” ” I stalk,” replies stalker. “Stalk?” “Yep,I F’ing stalk now shut up or I will stalk you.” Hmmm, odd.. The mind of a stalker.
See, now you are on to something relating to the Dear Abby comment. Almost like ‘Jimmy the bartender’ in Men’s Health. Maybe certain people then have areas of expertise like you are the vet guy, Marie is tramp stamp chick, bill gives advice on how to disguise ‘old person smell’ and boats and how to post pictures. Dan can pretty much chime in anytime. Yawn is the pharaoh. Roxanne…. Weather, Bonnie Lea- bears/camping. I could go on and on but have to create some sort of sustenance for two growing kids.
Yoop -
- January 30, 2013 at 9:45 pm
Nice hearing from you John,
Yeah, no Bonnie Lea in a while, hopefully she will drop by.
Wow, Jedd is crawling all over? This time in their lives always made me nervous, the constant trying to pull up, falling.. Yikes. Sure is fun watching them grow.
No more renting out houses anymore. Done.. A big pain in the arse.
Stalker dude left his calling card again last night I heard. I wonder what a person gets from stalking.
Me to unknown guy, “So, whatcha do fer fun?” ” I stalk,” replies stalker. “Stalk?” “Yep,I F’ing stalk now shut up or I will stalk you.” Hmmm, odd.. The mind of a stalker.
See, now you are on to something relating to the Dear Abby comment. Almost like ‘Jimmy the bartender’ in Men’s Health. Maybe certain people then have areas of expertise like you are the vet guy, Marie is tramp stamp chick, bill gives advice on how to disguise ‘old person smell’ and boats and how to post pictures. Dan can pretty much chime in anytime. Yawn is the pharaoh. Roxanne…. Weather, Bonnie Lea- bears/camping. I could go on and on but have to create some sort of sustenance for two growing kids.
Yoop
-
