Filthy answers to innocent questions.

MVB is an anagram for BVM, and shame on you for bringing her into this thread.

Who's the most valued blogger on microsoft visual basic?
The MVB on MVB is, without question, the BVM herself, primarily for giving the Most Vigorous Blowjobs.

Why did Hector bring religion back into this filthy thread?
 
Why isn't Manitoba called More North Dakota?
What makes fountains squirt?

You're thinking of Saskatchewan, whose name comes from the Cree and means "North Dakota, more or less." The name Manitoba comes from the Ojibwe and means "land of a hundred thousand thousand orifices." It symbolizes the vast prairie of women waiting for someone to come along and spurt into theirs.

Where would you rather be, Moose Jaw or Regina?
 
You're thinking of Saskatchewan, whose name comes from the Cree and means "North Dakota, more or less." The name Manitoba comes from the Ojibwe and means "land of a hundred thousand thousand orifices." It symbolizes the vast prairie of women waiting for someone to come along and spurt into theirs.

Where would you rather be, Moose Jaw or Regina?
Regina, but with a “V”!

Why do we still have daylight savings time?
 
Degrees sexier than six degrees of Kevin Bacon.

Why did we stop sending men to the Moon?
 
Speak for yourself. I never stopped!

How often do you think of Rome?
I think of Rome very often, at least three times a week. I can still see the Spanish Steps, or, I should say, I can still see her on the Spanish Steps. A young woman, pretty, and with the breasts of Sophia Loren. I stepped up to her and asked, “scusami, signorina, but why do you have Sophia Loren’s tits?” She answered me with a smile, “to catch the eyes of l’uomo americano, signore.” With that, she flashed a little more of her cleavage, and I snapped a picture with my cheap disposable camera. I couldn’t resist following her as she nodded to me and started down the steps. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the Trevi Fountain. A little more breast, another pic, and she moved on. The same at the Coliseum and the Forum. She led me to all the famous sites of Rome, stopping at each for a photo; each pose showing more boob. Finally she led me to a blind alley. “Now you can see all of Sophia Loren’s tits, signore,” she said in a sultry voice as she slowly drew the bodice of her peasant blouse down to reveal a pair of bodacious tatas - Sophia’s bodacious tatas, to be sure. I stood there, jaw agape, and snapped the last frame in my disposable. “I have more to show you,” she said suggestively, and started raising her skirt. In an instant she pulled a six-inch stiletto from the top of her stocking and held it to my throat. “All your cash, signore,” she demanded harshly. “And your watch.” I quickly gave her the cheap Casio from my wrist and the fifty Euros from my wallet. “Grazie, signore,” she said as she sheathed her knife. “Prego,” I responded. That was nearly forty years ago, and I still think of Rome at least three times a week. I’ve traveled the whole of Europe since then, but I’ve yet to have a city tour as memorable.

What are "Hop On - Hop Off" buses?
 
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I think of Rome very often, at least three times a week. I can still see the Spanish Steps, or, I should say, I can still see her on the Spanish Steps. A young woman, pretty, and with the breasts of Sophia Loren. I stepped up to her and asked, “scusami, signorina, but why do you have Sophia Loren’s tits?” She answered me with a smile, “to catch the eyes of l’uomo americano, signore.” With that, she flashed a little more of her cleavage, and I snapped a picture with my cheap disposable camera. I couldn’t resist following her as she nodded to me and started down the steps. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the Trevi Fountain. A little more breast, another pic, and she moved on. The same at the Coliseum and the Forum. She led me to all the famous sites of Rome, stopping at each for a photo; each pose showing more boob. Finally she led me to a blind alley. “Now you can see all of Sophia Loren’s tits, signore,” she said in a sultry voice as she slowly drew the bodice of her peasant blouse down to reveal a pair of bodacious tatas - Sophia’s bodacious tatas, to be sure. I stood there, jaw agape, and snapped the last frame in my disposable. “I have more to show you,” she said suggestively, and started raising her skirt. In an instant she pulled a six-inch stiletto from the top of her stocking and held it to my throat. “All your cash, signore,” she demanded harshly. “And your watch.” I quickly gave her the cheap Casio from my wrist and the fifty Euros from my wallet. “Grazie, signore,” she said as she sheathed her knife. “Prego,” I responded. That was nearly forty years ago, and I still think of Rome at least three times a week. I’ve traveled the whole of Europe since then, but I’ve yet to have a city tour as memorable.

What are "Hop On - Hop Off" buses?
You spelled "busts" wrong.

How do you drive a scooter?
 
What is the best part of Venice?
In her arse.

Why do sheep eat grass?
 
Why do sheep eat grass?
...Who doesn't love the taste between a girls legs?

What's the best part of Boston?
 
d
Because it is one of the few times a guy can promise 8in and a woman might be happy with 3…

How did your last family gathering go?

In circles! We used up 10 gallons of lube, and everyone had a turn with everyone else.

How often do you clean your glasses?
 
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