Entonnoir du Cul was also known as La Babouche, according to Erotica Verba, page 456. What else do we know about him? Precious little, except through the relations of his women, who were big in his life.
Both the one he met at the afterparty for Norman Mailer’s Sodden in Kenora, and the one who played the Queen of Sheba’s lady-in-waiting for Andy Warhol, they couldn’t either of them say enough good about the good old boy, particularly in his primary role as a mammal. But, as you know, every animal has its failings. Plants do too. Please contact your system administrator if you cannot understand this sentence. And the executor of your will.
The eyes of Texas are upon you, during these ides of march. Those rangers were encouraging motorists to call 911 to report criminal activity, but had to desist due to the deluge of reports of speeding.
The human integument is not fabricated to be washed with soap every day. Once a week is sufficient, and you don’t need soap.
She was borne with both the breasts of her mothers and the four worts of her fodders. They all looked in a the family bible for a trace of her brooders, yet in vein. Even in the beginning, well within hearing of the indian love call, she was chaste as the praying mantis in a hand of rummy.
The allegations come after some of the officers texted each other the answers to a monthly test gauging their understanding of how nuclear missiles are operated. “There was cheating that took place with respect to this particular test. Some officers did it. Others apparently knew about it, and it appears that they did nothing, or at least not enough, to stop it or to report it,” Air Force Secretary Deborah Lee James said at a news conference. The cheating was found during an investigation into drug use involving 11 missile launching sites, including a never before revealed site in Disney World.
At Brunei, on the northwest coast of Borneo, the explorers were engaged in a lively trade with the townspeople when the lookouts were horrified to see the harbor filling with an armada of dugout canoes. It was the local rajah’s fleet returning from a foray against another potentate, and no harm was meant. But the jittery Juan Carvalho believed an attack was imminent and decided to strike first. Abandoning five men who were trading ashore, he captured a large junk and took everyone hostage, including three women. He then entered into some desultory negotiations with the rajah. When those were stalemated, he sailed away with his captives, leaving the men ashore to the fates. Carvalho further disenchanted his crew by ransoming the male captives for gold he kept himself, and retaining the women as a private harem.
I’ll bet you dorks to donuts that there’s nothing up my sleeve.
And I’ll drop a dime on you if you spill the beans on the birds and the bees. Keep it under your hat. Don’t spoil the children’s surprise.
Take an ordinary wooden matchbox, and remove the drawer holding the matches. In the center place a small coin, a cent will be the best for the experiment, the object of which is to make the coin fall into the interior without touching it. Tap lightly on that side of the box to which you desire the coin to come, until it rests upon the edge.
Then slightly raise the end of the box whereon the coin rests, and lightly tap with the finger once more. At once the coin will fall into the box. The secret of the experiment is this: the taps on the box only move the box, while the coin retains its position by reason of its own inertia, until the edge of the box reaches it. The last tap knocks away the support, and the coin, obedient to the law of gravity, falls vertically into the interior of the box. This little experiment is easily performed, and extremely interesting when done neatly.
’Tis the paradox of Zorba’s ass. Those who command resources always need more. It’s in everyone’s best interest, according to the first corollary, attested to their lawyers and sworn in a court of law having jurisdiction in their bailiwick. The bootlickers are on winning side, but it’s the end of the line, according to those who execute the code.
All the advance thinkers agree on one thing, but they don’t know what it is.
Check out the true story of old mother Hubbard. You’ll be amazed, or my name’s not Heranimus Botch. It’s not at all what you would think. She didn’t go to the cupboard. Not under her own volition. The old dog did not dance a jig. It tripped the light fantastic.
Remember to clear your gustation tubes after changing the oil or you’ll be spraying your mess mates with territorial markers.
They decoded this message as an order to embark upon a study of the human animal in all its disguises. They had but few specimens in the white, and many in the other, which may have coloured the results. So said jolly Green Genes.
She, the woman we have been trying to follow, went to a frat party at the Chemical Brothers. All the other brotherhoods were spoken for. She came out of that one smelling like Gypsy Rosealeechee.