MsGuy

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Have you ever wanted children?
 
Nope, I manage to keep it over 18.
 
Kevin Slater

I believe I could have been a good grandfather, but I never wanted the frontline responsibilities.

Reminds me of the old story about the Greek snd the Italian trying to impress one another. "Ah, the Greeks founded Athens", "Yes, but the Italians created Rome." "Well, the Greeks built the Acropolis." "Yes, but the Romans built the Coliseum." "Hah!, the Greeks invented sex." "To be sure, but the Italians introduced it to women."

Hell, I can't even remember the last time. http://www.boytoy.com/forums/public/style_emoticons/default/unsure.gif

Not counting the blowjobs I used to give to my cousins or to the couple of friends who sometimes stayed the night, my first time was during the summer of 1987 when I had just turned 14. I had been accepted to a state-run residential high school for gifted and talented students, but my dad was too cheap to help foot the tuition. So, I got myself a summer job to start earning the money to go to school. HE took the rest of the family on a week-long vacation to Disney World and left me home alone so I could take a cab to and from work. (I should preface the rest by saying that my dad was a monster who beat me and my brother so badly that there are photos of our welted and bruised butts on file in two different sherriff's departments.)
 
Two days before they were to return, on a Friday night in June, I got out the phone book, looked up the number of the only gay bar in our little city, and I called the bar, asking the bartender who answered, "Hi. I was wondering, are there any really attractive guys there tonight? Like an older guy? Maybe in his 30's?" He gave me a slow, quizzical reply and confirmed that there were indeed several men there matching that description. So, I asked if he could put one of them on the phone. He obliged.
 
Without knowing the first thing about this guy, I asked him if he was interested in popping the cherry of the neighboring town's Chief of Police's oldest son that night. He seemed pretty keen. So I gave him the address and waited nervously about 2o or 30 minutes for him to show up. When he did, I remember taking his hand at the door and leading him down the hallway through to my Dad's bedroom at the back of the house. We went in, undressed each other, and climbed into my Dad's atrocious 1980's king-sized waterbed with the huge, ornate wooden shelves for a headboard. That's where 14-year-old me took his first big ol' cock up the ass with the help of a totally perverted (hindsight is a bitch) 30-year-old statutory rapist. I *hated* it the first time. It hurt like fire. Maybe it was the cum he left in me that first go around that made the second time more enjoyable, but round 2 was everything I'd hoped for. Mission accomplished!
 
Dad and the step-fam got back that Sunday afternoon, each of them wearing their stupid mouse ears and looking like sunburned stupid. I just paraded around with a shit-eating grin on my face for pretty much the rest of that summer. I never told him his bed had laid the scene for his big, gay son's deflowering. I've been saving that little nugget of golden information for his deathbed. In case there's any chance the old bastard might pull through whatever finally gets him headed down the chute to hell, I want to be able to recount this story to him and help him shuffle off this mortal coil and reap his final reward for being such a remarkable father.

A perhaps more insightful view of the law offered by Anatole France begins "The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg on the streets, and to steal loaves of bread."

A perhaps more insightful view of the law offered by Anatole France begins "The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg on the streets, and to steal loaves of bread."

A perhaps more insightful view of the law offered by Anatole France begins "The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg on the streets, and to steal loaves of bread."

But I'm still puzzled by how staring at the sun during an eclipse makes hair grow in the palm of your hands.
 
Gman

Imagine Dragons being turned into White Flyers. Would they spew fire or ice?

HAHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah, sometimes I feel like that chatting with dancers at the bar.

May 15, 2017
This Woman Was Arrested For ‘Stealing’ A Case Of Water Bottles And THIS Was Her Husband’s Response.
 
 
Dear Whole Foods executives:
 
I consider myself to be a loyal Whole Foods customer. In fairness, it’s my wife who is the customer, since it is she who actually frequents your stores and spends the money. “Frequent” is an appropriate word to use, because she frequents your stores frequently. Indeed, between October 8 and November 27th of this year, she purchased goods from you on 27 separate occasions. The total spend during that period was $2,165.46 (an average $80.20 per visit). Just the other day, I pointed out to her that if she keeps this up, we will spend close to $30K a year at Whole Foods, if I’ve done my math right (which I have). I’m not sure where that ranks on your “customer value” metric (if you guys bother to track that sort of thing) but I’d venture to guess it’s pretty high. I mean, really. Thirty grand a year on friggin pears, quinoa and smoked turkey has got to be up there, no? Someone over there has to be making a bit of coin on our visits, although admittedly, I’m not up on the current margins for quinoa sales.
 
That’s why it was so shocking to me to learn that she was arrested by your staff during her last visit to Whole Foods.
 
Arrested, you might ask? Well, it seems that way. And the crime? She “stole” a case of water.
 
Admittedly, I feel somewhat responsible for this “theft” since I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on her to stockpile water bottles. I’ve been very thirsty lately. I’ve had many sleepless nights craving my water from Whole Foods. But, alas, the other night, when I groggily made my way to our kitchen pantry at 3AM, we were out of those sacred bottles. Imagine my outrage… this was the final straw! In a desperate attempt to quench my insatiable thirst, I told her: “Honey, you are going to have to do better with the shopping. We need more Whole Foods water bottles. I don’t care how you get them – just get them!”
 
The next day, a plot was hatched. My wife set out to “steal” water bottles from Whole Foods. Brilliantly disguised as an everyday shopper (pushing a cart around, sampling items, making purchases and all those things normal shoppers do), my wife surreptitiously took a water bottle case and stashed it underneath her cart, masking it with the only available “cover” she had – her gym bag. Her true genius on full display, she filled her shopping cart with another $180 worth of “decoy” shopping goods, (which of course she would pay for in full), all in a clever attempt to draw people’s attention away from the real prize. The crown jewel. A $5 case of Whole Foods water. Palms and brow billowing with sweat, she made her way to the cashier, as the final stage in her plan – the escape – was now well within grasp. Just beyond the register, she could see her freedom – and a life of endless amounts of Whole Foods water (or at least a few days worth).
 
But, my dear Whole Foods executives, it was not to be. On this fine day, one of your crafty security guards would foil the plan. Drawing from his many weeks of in-classroom training in the art of thwarting dastardly acts such as “stealing water bottles”, “eating food from the coveted salad bar while still shopping”, and “using expired coupons”, his spidey senses went off the minute she walked into the store. And why wouldn’t they go off? After all, it is rare that you would see a shopper who has been in your store 27 times in the past month and a half come back again to do more shopping the next day (hmmm, wait a minute…?). Ducking behind the deep freeze, dropping-and-rolling around the fresh produce, and using the mixed nuts section as camouflage, our Whole Foods SWAT team member stalked his prey, patiently waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
 
Once my evil-doer wife passed the register while paying for all of her groceries, except the Whole Foods Holy Water, your faithful security guard pounced. Accosting her in a crowded elevator in front of 15 other customers (accomplices perhaps?), he loudly (and proudly) proclaimed, “Miss, you are under arrest. You stole water from us and I am going to have to take you in.” I kid you not, the lad said “take you in”. Beaten at her own game, my wife had to think on her feet. Under pressure, and furious about the situation, all she could muster was: “Oh shit, I totally forgot about that. It was hidden under my gym bag. Here’s five bucks – I’m so embarrassed and I really do apologize.”
 
Now, whole foods executives, both of us know just how ridiculous that excuse sounds. We all know that’s COMPLETELY implausible. Especially to customers who shop every day and have a zillion other things going on. It should be patently obvious to anyone that reads this that my wife hatched a plot to steal $5 worth of water, and was caught red-handed.
 
My only relief is that your able-bodied staff properly resolved the situation. After keeping her under “lockdown” for a half hour, interrogating her about her motives and plans for future attacks on Whole Foods (thankfully, she unleashed her fury on Whole Foods as an “independent”, with no direct ties to Al-Qaeda, ISIS or any other terrorist organization), they let her go. And, in a strangely ironic twist, they gave her the water bottle case for free. I crack myself up every time I re-read that sentence.
 
But there’s one more catch. I consider it my own consolation prize.
 
The catch is that before she was allowed to leave, the kind staff at Whole Foods told her she’s never allowed to shop there again. Phew, what a relief! Now I can take my $30K per year food budget to one of your competitors, where, I’ve been most pleased to discover, a dollar is stretched to a far greater degree.
 
And, they have such great deals on cases of water. They are a practical steal!
 
Yours truly and truthfully,
 
*David
 
TruHart1

Because that is what we do as we follow the saga of the wonderful family!

http://68.media.tumblr.com/6467946c0827f32bc080d426869cd3d8/tumblr_o5khwnFZsN1rmin5no1_400.gif

I have a feeling that Sansa looked at her siblings and realized, "shit, I'm the sane one!"

Agreed...hopefully he'll have a nude scene before he dies though.

TruHart1

I am pleased to say that Shelia is a former employee of mine. I cannot say enough good things about her or recommend her too highly. You sure don’t see performance like hers often. I would urge you to waste no time in making her an offer of employment.

Kevin Slater

From Quora:
 
What is your most interesting encounter with the police?



I was hitchhiking. A guy picked me up. A few miles down the road we were pulled over by a Washington State trooper.
 
The trooper was taking his time getting out of his cruiser. My driver was getting upset - glancing nervously in the rear view mirror.
 
“Look at this guy! What the hell is doing? Talking on the radio, looking out the window. Fucking cops!”
 
The trooper has finally emerged from his cruiser and is now adjusting his Smokey Bear hat while checking his look in the driver’s door glass.
 
“Jesus H Christ, what next?” My driver furiously rolled down his window and yelled back at the trooper “Hey! Did you forget your lint roller or some goddamn thing?”
 
The trooper straightened up, glanced our way and began a slow, deliberate walk up to the driver’s side of our car.
 
He had his right hand firmly on his weapon. I had my hand on the door handle, debating whether to jump out and run. The driver was halfway out the window, almost screaming .
 
“So tell me, pig, just what do you want? Why the hell did you pull me over?”
 
The trooper crouched down so his face was even with the driver’s. His face showed no emotion. I was jammed up tight to passenger side door, trying to make it clear that I’m Not With This Guy.
 
The trooper glanced at me, then held the driver in a steady gaze.
 
“What time are we supposed to be at Mom’s house tonight? I’ve got her birthday cake back at the office.”