So there I was ...

From: joecosby@mindspring.com (Joe Cosby)
Date: Wed, Aug 6, 2003

So there I was, doing about 80 up the sidewalk, watching the
pedestrians flung off my front bumper like bowling pins, when the
thought occurred to me.

"Joe"; I thought, "this is NO WAY to make friends".

So I thought I'd share that insight. Cause it's true, really.

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From: zosodada@aol.com (Zosodada)

To make friends you have to pull up beside a hooker in the red light district
and blow your horn -- she'll get in the car. Then drive to a secluded spot in
the park or by the water and the car will start making humpy-bumpy,
squeak-squeaks while she blows you and drains your wallet -- but after you cum
you can beat her bloody and get your cash back.

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From: "nu-monet v6.0" <nothing@succeeds.com>

How wude. A more civilized way was written about
by H.L. Mencken. He wrote about the very Slackful
but utterly worthless and untalented half-Tahitian
son of the artist Paul Gaugin.

The young man was a drunkard and a fraud, making
just enough money for food and vice by doing poor
sketches and signing them "Son of Gaugin."

Once, however, he noticed a French nurse with a
big wad of cash in her purse, so he offered her
another big wad of cash if she would sleep with
him. When they got to her place, he stole the
money from her purse, and paid her with it after.

She took him to court, but was unable to persuade
the judge that she was any the worse for wear, so
he dismissed the case.

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From: zosodada@aol.com (Zosodada)

"nu-monet v6.0" wrote:
<< How wude. A more civilized way was written about
by H.L. Mencken. He wrote about the very Slackful
but utterly worthless and untalented half-Tahitian
son of the artist Paul Gaugin. >>

. . . who's dad had his cock smoked by Vinny VanGogh right after he finished
fucking several pubescent Tahitian chicks.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

From: hellpopehuey@subgenius.com (HellPopeHuey)

joecosby@mindspring.com (Joe Cosby) wrote:
> So there I was, doing about 80 up the sidewalk, watching the
> pedestrians flung off my front bumper like bowling pins, when the
> thought occurred to me.
>> "Joe"; I thought, "this is NO WAY to make friends".
>> So I thought I'd share that insight. Cause it's true, really.

That depends on whether you were ON that sidewalk or across the
street laughing yer ASS off as I did. *I* think you're a SWELL friend
for brightening my day. After all, they were just Assembly of God
drones, scarcely different FROM bowling pins, except that bowling pins
don't proselytize. Not on this planet, anyway. ALL HAIL JOE!

HellPope Huey, hellpopehuey@subgenius.com
A coolness rating of 40 MegaFonzies!

"For every child, rich or poor, there's a time of running through
a dark place;
and there's no word for a child's fear and no ears to hear it if
there was a word
and no one to understand it if they heard.
God save the little children! They abide and they endure."
- from "Night of the Hunter," screenplay by James Agee.

"How's that 6-toed 0possum-baby your mother had with redneck?'
- 'King of the Hill"

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Original file name: So there I was.txt - converted on Saturday, 25 September 2004, 02:05