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A car full of Irish nuns is sitting at a traffic light in downtown Dublin when a bunch of rowdy drunks pulls up alongside them.
"Hey, show us yer tits, ya bloody penguins!" shouts one of the drunks.
Quite shocked, Mother Superior turns to Sister Mary Immaculata and says, "I don't think they know who we are; show them your cross."
Quite shocked, Mother Superior turns to Sister Mary Immaculata and says, "I don't think they know who we are; show them your cross."
Sister Mary Immaculata rolls down her window and shouts, "Piss off, ya fookin' little wankers, before I come over there and rip yer balls off!"
Sister Mary Immaculata then rolls up her window, looks back at Mother Superior, quite innocently, and asks, "Did that sound cross enough?
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In other news. I made a soap sack to put bits and slivers into for my shower. I have a vast collection of those little soap pills they give out at hotels. Some smell quite nice. They are all in the bag now. And speaking of hot showers.
After a string of days in the Georgia pollen shitstorm (over 8000 today), I took Jack Flash to the DONT TOUCH ME OR SPEAK TO ME car wash. You know the kind. Wave your card, they wave you through. Spanking clean and shiny, I cranked up the rock and took the long straightaway home, heavy on the gas.
On FB I wanted to say "This was more fun than a fast fuck in a hot shower" #veryeasilyamused. But I censored myself. You, my friends, get me full blast.
5 comments:
crank up the music ... heavy on the gas ... a woman after my own heart!
and thank you for sharing ... I've managed to tame FB into only giving me a dozen or so posts a day, mostly from friends and fam, so I miss most of the "good stuff"
Oh, yeah. I've always had Indy aspirations. I need to be careful right now because I cannot find my drivers license. Had it for voting, popped it into my breast pocket when they handed it back. From there? My renewal is in October and requires an in-person visit to the DMV, not bloody likely for a while.
I work from home full time. Two computers running on the desk, the work one and my laptop. I equate FB with the way my Mom used to buy the gossip rags at the grocery store, like the National Inquirer, the Globe, etc. Direct contact with people I know is nice, many I've never met, especially now. I'll curate it for you.
I'll follow you there ...
You're gonna drive me to drink in' if ya don't stop drivin' that Hot Rod Lincoln!
Round, round, gitaround, I gitaround.
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