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Wife makes me lug it down to the basement each time. I foresee the day when I slip and the whole shebang including me takes an unwilling ride on my ass.

Works out great for the birds though. The ones visiting our feeder are starting to bend spacetime.

Wife makes me lug it down to the basement each time. I foresee the day when I slip and the whole shebang including me takes an unwilling ride on my ass. Works out great for the birds though. The ones visiting our feeder are starting to bend spacetime.
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[–] • 1 pt

Death is but a door and time is but a window. As for myself, dot dot dot, yeah never quite sure. I'll let you know.

[–] • 1 pt

Instructions unclear, forgot my own name.

[–] • 1 pt (edited )

Heard the first line in a podcast recently. Might be from a movie, not sure. It sounds so deep in the first 10 milliseconds, until you realize it makes no sense at all.

The second line may be 'The Disease'® talking. Had a cow-orker coughing it up all week. While I was entertaining fantasies of male virility making me immune to anything but particle beams... Looks like I caught the ill. Or it's the box wine. Or all three.