In honour of Coupling
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On the Melty Man Patrick: It was just so embarassing. I didn't know what to do. Steve: Happens to us all mate. Jeff: All of us, in our time, are visited by the melty man. Patrick: The what? Jeff: Don't say his name, Patrick. Don't even think his name or he will rise from the shadow dimensions to do his evil work on your terrified pants. Patrick: [chuckle] Terrified pants? Steve: [gravely] There's nothing funny about the melty man, Patrick. Patrick: [face falls] You know about the melty man, too? Steve: [in a "duh!" voice] We all know the melty man. Patrick: Who is he? Steve: The archenemy of trouser confidence. Jeff: Professor Moriarty. In groin form. Steve: Darth Vader Jeff: Without the helmet. Patrick: [terrified and shocked] What does he do?! Jeff: Patrick, you *know* what he does. Patrick: [looks down] Oh right. Jeff: You're in bed with a woman. Everything's going fine. That's when the melty man strikes. Steve: Suddenly you find yourself thinking, "Maybe she's really bored". Jeff: Maybe you're licking her neck too much. Are you over-wetting her neck? Steve: Are you spending an equal amount of time on each breast? I mean, what if one breast gets ahead? Jeff: Should you be switching between them really quickly or should you squish 'em both together and do them at once [demonstrates] Patrick: [frowns] Steve: Or should you skip one breast completely just to save time? Jeff: She's wriggling about. Is that a good sign or is she just trying to draw her neck?
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On the Melty Man Patrick: It was just so embarassing. I didn't know what to do. Steve: Happens to us all mate. Jeff: All of us, in our time, are visited by the melty man. Patrick: The what? Jeff: Don't say his name, Patrick. Don't even think his name or he will rise from the shadow dimensions to do his evil work on your terrified pants. Patrick: [chuckle] Terrified pants? Steve: [gravely] There's nothing funny about the melty man, Patrick. Patrick: [face falls] You know about the melty man, too? Steve: [in a "duh!" voice] We all know the melty man. Patrick: Who is he? Steve: The archenemy of trouser confidence. Jeff: Professor Moriarty. In groin form. Steve: Darth Vader Jeff: Without the helmet. Patrick: [terrified and shocked] What does he do?! Jeff: Patrick, you *know* what he does. Patrick: [looks down] Oh right. Jeff: You're in bed with a woman. Everything's going fine. That's when the melty man strikes. Steve: Suddenly you find yourself thinking, "Maybe she's really bored". Jeff: Maybe you're licking her neck too much. Are you over-wetting her neck? Steve: Are you spending an equal amount of time on each breast? I mean, what if one breast gets ahead? Jeff: Should you be switching between them really quickly or should you squish 'em both together and do them at once [demonstrates] Patrick: [frowns] Steve: Or should you skip one breast completely just to save time? Jeff: She's wriggling about. Is that a good sign or is she just trying to draw her neck?
Curse you CP for truncating my previous posting: Here's "On toilets" Susan: Men and toilets, the love that dare not speak its name. What's that about? Steve: [slams hand down] We are men! Throughout history, we have always needed, in times of difficulty, to retreat to our caves. It so happens that in this modern age, our caves are fully plumbed. The toilet is, for us, the last bastion, the final refuge, the last few square feet of man-space left to us! Somewhere to sit, something to read, something to do, and who gives a damn about the smell? Because that, for us, is happiness. Because we are *men.* We are different. We have only one word for soap. We do not own candles. We have never seen anything of any value in a craft shop. We do not own magazines fill of pictures of celebrities with all their clothes *on*. When we have conversations, we actually take it in turns to talk! But we have not yet reached that level of earth-shattering boredom and inhuman despair that we would have a haircut *recreationally*. We don't know how to get excited about... really, *really* boring things, like ornaments, bath oil, the countryside, vases, small churches. I mean, we do not even know what, *what* in the name of God's *ass* is the purpose of pot-pourri! Looks like breakfast, smells like your auntie! Why do we need that? So please, in this strange and frightening world, allow us one last place to call our own. This toilet, this blessed pot, this... fortress of solitude. You girls, you may go to the bathroom in groups of two or more. Yet we do not pass comment. We do not make judgment. That is your choice. But we men will always walk the toilet mile...
I'm not a stalker, I just know things. Oh by the way, you're out of milk.
Forgive your enemies - it messes with their heads
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Curse you CP for truncating my previous posting: Here's "On toilets" Susan: Men and toilets, the love that dare not speak its name. What's that about? Steve: [slams hand down] We are men! Throughout history, we have always needed, in times of difficulty, to retreat to our caves. It so happens that in this modern age, our caves are fully plumbed. The toilet is, for us, the last bastion, the final refuge, the last few square feet of man-space left to us! Somewhere to sit, something to read, something to do, and who gives a damn about the smell? Because that, for us, is happiness. Because we are *men.* We are different. We have only one word for soap. We do not own candles. We have never seen anything of any value in a craft shop. We do not own magazines fill of pictures of celebrities with all their clothes *on*. When we have conversations, we actually take it in turns to talk! But we have not yet reached that level of earth-shattering boredom and inhuman despair that we would have a haircut *recreationally*. We don't know how to get excited about... really, *really* boring things, like ornaments, bath oil, the countryside, vases, small churches. I mean, we do not even know what, *what* in the name of God's *ass* is the purpose of pot-pourri! Looks like breakfast, smells like your auntie! Why do we need that? So please, in this strange and frightening world, allow us one last place to call our own. This toilet, this blessed pot, this... fortress of solitude. You girls, you may go to the bathroom in groups of two or more. Yet we do not pass comment. We do not make judgment. That is your choice. But we men will always walk the toilet mile...
I'm not a stalker, I just know things. Oh by the way, you're out of milk.
Forgive your enemies - it messes with their heads
And finally, on breasts: I need breasts with brains. I don’t mean individual brains, obviously... I mean, not a brain each. You know, I like intelligent women, but you’ve got to draw the line somewhere... I think breast brains would be over-egging the woman pudding.
I'm not a stalker, I just know things. Oh by the way, you're out of milk.
Forgive your enemies - it messes with their heads
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On the Melty Man Patrick: It was just so embarassing. I didn't know what to do. Steve: Happens to us all mate. Jeff: All of us, in our time, are visited by the melty man. Patrick: The what? Jeff: Don't say his name, Patrick. Don't even think his name or he will rise from the shadow dimensions to do his evil work on your terrified pants. Patrick: [chuckle] Terrified pants? Steve: [gravely] There's nothing funny about the melty man, Patrick. Patrick: [face falls] You know about the melty man, too? Steve: [in a "duh!" voice] We all know the melty man. Patrick: Who is he? Steve: The archenemy of trouser confidence. Jeff: Professor Moriarty. In groin form. Steve: Darth Vader Jeff: Without the helmet. Patrick: [terrified and shocked] What does he do?! Jeff: Patrick, you *know* what he does. Patrick: [looks down] Oh right. Jeff: You're in bed with a woman. Everything's going fine. That's when the melty man strikes. Steve: Suddenly you find yourself thinking, "Maybe she's really bored". Jeff: Maybe you're licking her neck too much. Are you over-wetting her neck? Steve: Are you spending an equal amount of time on each breast? I mean, what if one breast gets ahead? Jeff: Should you be switching between them really quickly or should you squish 'em both together and do them at once [demonstrates] Patrick: [frowns] Steve: Or should you skip one breast completely just to save time? Jeff: She's wriggling about. Is that a good sign or is she just trying to draw her neck?
ROFL! I wish you'd finish it
"I am for doing good to the poor, but I differ in opinion of the means. I think the best way of doing good to the poor, is not making them easy in poverty, but leading or driving them out of it. In my youth. I have observed in different countries, that the more public provisions were made for the poor, the less they provided for themselves, and of course became poorer. And, on the contrary, the less was done for them, the more they did for themselves, and became richer." ~ Benj Franklin