Shilly-shally not, dearBunny. You've been outed and you must deal with the outtie. And how will you spot him? By hissssssssssssssss belly-button, of course!
Hmmmm - jerry has an outie? Don't a lot of other people?
Aims kalashnikov ever so casually at Beth - and which end do YOU open at, prithee, ma'am?
don't know about belly buttons, but i have heard vagina's are inverted penises - or was it penises are distended vaginas
oh ****
time for Mass
"bless me patriarchial pomposity for i have sinned...
and sinned
and sinned
and sinned
um, what year is it?
Well, I cannot participate, I simply can not, not, I loathe hard and softboiled eggs, both, together or individually, even now, although I have grown up past my childhood stages of disliking all things ukky, yucky, wiggly, or oozing. Not to mention slimy.
My eggs are scrambled, after having been mixed correctly, that is, well mixed.
As opposed to well-done, a distinction it seems impossible to clarify to others in real life time. I do not wish to see islands of egg white in my serving of scrambled eggs, absolutely not. Even less do I like to see squishy ooze pooling about. I try to avoid looking at meal mates' plates if they are utilized for sunny side up eggs, and will simply look away if such further depredation as, eeeeuwwwww, eating from an egg cup, occurs. Or worse, worse, the total enblobbing of a whole hard boiled egg or some portion thereof into someone's mouth, gross, gross. Which reminds me, did anyone see the movie with Charles Grodin and Elaine May's daughter (whose name fails me), set in, I think, Wisconsin? They were in a coffee shop and she was eating an egg salad sandwich. Really, worse than awful, and very funny too.
Hiya Moonie,
How's things?
hey jerry, other than difficulties with my "heretical and blasphemous big end", everything's rosey
ring-a-ring-a-rosie...
sheesh, it must be sunday again
and hot
toooooooo bloody hot
heading up the hills to find a cool water hole
Moony - to be precise, as we must be, when it comes to penises - we women have LOOOOOOOOTs of innie- with a little outie ('tis called the clitoris, that bit - like a map, sweetie, or have you found it already?) - while mens have a lot of outtie, and a bit of innie - but ours are BIGGER! So there! Heeheee.
Jerry - what colour is that thing? - it is all green to my monitor - but I like it!
how do you spell clitoris?
Moonie, problems with your big end??, They make pills for that!
dlowan,...The painting is in Purple
a pill would be great, but i'd have to get my foot out of it first
(you have got the right end haven't you?
not the end where it all begins, but the end where it all comes out...
um, let me re-phrase that
(now i know i left my "proper (small) end" around here somewhere...
looks like a blue bunny from here
"... all hail big bunny"
Some pills you can put into the end where it all begins,..then they help move things from the end where it all comes out,..feet included.
Hmmm - Moony, sounds like you MIGHT need a map. ShallI send you one?
heeeee heeeeeee
I AM bad - being drawn that way is just serendipity....
i'll write the screenplay, "Map of the Human Orifice"
"Map of the Human Orifice and Other Intersections"
UH..... but, Dlowan - I don't HAVE an egg cup,
nor do I make tiny soldiers out of my toast, if
indeed I have toast at all - I prefer it in long,
straight strips which I can then swirl all over
the 4 min. egg. And then crack: BIG END UP!
So, whatya gonna do to me, eh?
I'm not afraid of a wascally little old wabbit
Besides, I was told - er ... somewhere....
that this IS a free country, so you can't be
blaming me for Lilliputians laws unless I am
IN THE LAND OF THE LILLIPUTIANS, RIGHT???
AND besides who would ever want to go to
Lilliput Land when we have such a WONDROUS
EXISTENCE HERE.... no inflation here?
Less people are out of work here (but then
they don't tell you what YEAR they are comparing
it to ... it makes me a little unnerved.)
Well, dear dear Dlowan - I did my level best to
struggle along in the wee hours of last night,
blocking the way with my saber drawn - and I
THINK that only one of them got past me, isn't
that right??
I take exception to Babs suggestion that I'm lying about the last time I ate a soft-boiled egg. Soft-boiled is not the way I like eggs. I don't choose to have my eggs soft-boiled. When I was in Europe in 1970, soft-boiled eggs were served. I didn't ask for them. They just showed up on my breakfast plate. So I ate 'em. And I'm pretty sure it was small end up.
Hey Babs. You have the audacity to doubt my veracity. Phooey.
....er, as it were..... 
