Red Mosquito

Ello Sailor wrote:How many times did he get jizzed on?

B wrote:

Ello Sailor wrote:How many times did he get jizzed on?

Zero.

doug rr wrote:

B wrote:

Ello Sailor wrote:How many times did he get jizzed on?

Zero.

like he's gonna tell you...

tommy wrote:

doug rr wrote:

B wrote:

Ello Sailor wrote:How many times did he get jizzed on?

Zero.

like he's gonna tell you...

Which baseball player would be most likely to cum on a bus driver?

The Argonaut wrote:I took Amtrak yesterday. I love Amtrak!

Chris_H_2 wrote:By the way, if trains were faster and more convenient, I would take them. Europe is so lucky.

spike wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:By the way, if trains were faster and more convenient, I would take them. Europe is so lucky.

You don’t ride the Metra to work?

Chris_H_2 wrote:

The Argonaut wrote:I took Amtrak yesterday. I love Amtrak!

Well, this is one way to tell people you’re either 75 years old or you’re broke.

The Argonaut wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

The Argonaut wrote:I took Amtrak yesterday. I love Amtrak!

Well, this is one way to tell people you’re either 75 years old or you’re broke.

ok, yeah, I'll just fly to the city next time. so much easier to go through TSA and then spend an extra hour taking two trains just to get out of the airport. And the seats on a plane are much more comfortable, those famously comfy plane seats. Or maybe next time I'll just drive to Brooklyn, since that is so painless and cheap. (I actually drove back upstate from Brooklyn yesterday, as rescuing my injured uncle's car was the purpose of my trip, and the train ride was in fact faster and more pleasant.)

You get on the train, nobody gives you a hard time, pop on the headphones and watch the river for two and a half hours. It couldn't be more pleasant. Amtrak works pretty good

The Argonaut wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

The Argonaut wrote:I took Amtrak yesterday. I love Amtrak!

Well, this is one way to tell people you’re either 75 years old or you’re broke.

ok, yeah, I'll just fly to the city next time. so much easier to go through TSA and then spend an extra hour taking two trains just to get out of the airport. And the seats on a plane are much more comfortable, those famously comfy plane seats. Or maybe next time I'll just drive to Brooklyn, since that is so painless and cheap. (I actually drove back upstate from Brooklyn yesterday, as rescuing my injured uncle's car was the purpose of my trip, and the train ride was in fact faster and more pleasant.)

You get on the train, nobody gives you a hard time, pop on the headphones and watch the river for two and a half hours. It couldn't be more pleasant. Amtrak works pretty good

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.