Hijack This Thread!

Quasimodem

Literotica Guru
Joined
Jun 30, 2001
Posts
2,191
Dear Laurel,

I am experiencing some difficulty placing my recently completed epic into one of your present categories.

Let me elaborate.

My writing qualifies as Non-English, my stories as Non-Erotic, my readers - so far - have all been Non-Consensual, while I, myself, am Non-Human.

Never mind!

I just found Naked Fiction. Not only does that work, but it means I no longer need to call the Maytag Repairman.
 
Hey don't you go knocking Maytag! I have one and haven't had a single problem with it. Unless you count the chalk that got left in a certain pocket and that decided to jam up the pump for which I needed a Repairman to come and fix. But he doesn't count because it was his very first Maytag operation.

So there.

And I do so like the way it tumbles.
 
*hijacking in progress*

yeah.... i remember tumbling... it was 4th grade physical education class.. co-ed cause they didn't think it mattered at that age...

wow... the way becky rogers tucked and tumbled... sent shivers through my spine... i used to say i forgot my gym shorts... but those 'in the know' knew I really didn't want to get caught 'admiring' her form in the flimsy material of our school issued gym shorts....

so, who else has early gym memories???
 
so, who else has early gym memories
Oh, I'll never forget Jim. He was the guy who sat in the back of the agriculture class and cracked jokes. Once he took a five dollar bet that he wouldn't choke his ckicken in class. The moment he won his bet, the teacher, a guy, walked over, took a look, and asked, "Okay, now that you got it, what are you going to do with it?"

Rumple Foreskin

ps: Quasi, that was LOL funny. Thanks. RF
 
I went to pre-Vatican II Catholic schools where gym was 'taught' by nuns or pious dykes. I've repressed all memories of gym class.

Perdita
 
Gym class had and will always be taught by pious dykes, as you so tastefully put it.

Some of us used to skip class and play soccer on a nearby lawn instead. Until it started messing too much with our grades, that is.
 
I returned to a school after 2 years abroad.

I "forgot" to register for the gym class because I had to catch up on the differences between the UK curriculum and the foreign one. I spent all my "gym" classes in the library.

I got a consistent "B" grade for gym. Years after I'd left the school I met my gym teacher at a reunion. He remembered me from my other school activities.

I admitted that I'd skipped his gym classes and asked about those "B" grades.

He answered that he gave "B" grades to those he couldn't remember as being particularly good or bad. If someone was good they stood out. If someone was bad they stood out. If someone was competent he wouldn't really notice them. He hadn't noticed me so I must have been "competent".

We adjourned to the nearest pub for a beer since none of the returners wanted to talk gym.

Og
 
Gymboree was best though, watching all those girls in those skin tight outfits, parents not wanting to pay for new suits as quickly as the girls were developing, stretching them to their limits as they taught us the anatomy of young girls. Nothing could compare with the revalations of gym, until I discovered swim team in college. New girls, same problem, no money to buy suits as the girls went through stages of additional filling-out and resorted to bikinis for practice that weren't really made to stretch with the body of an athelete, hopeful glimpses, cold water hardened nipples, equally icy stares.

Ah, the memories of youth.
 
Yes those where the days when I was a symbol of all that was wrong with america. A dykeon (as oppossed to icon) if you will.
My first girl was had just admmitted that she was a hasbian.
There's nothing worse then a lesbian has been in my opinon.
But I wasn't phased just another trick turned and dismissed.

Yes those were the days my friends
:D
 
I seem to remember reading a story some years ago about a Dutch boy who put his finger in the dyke. I always wondered what would happen if the dyke started gushing over the poor Dutch boy. For that matter, what the hell was a child doing near a leaking dyke, and where the hell were the maintenance engineers. They should have been on the job and taken care of that dyke themselves.
 
I wonder if I turned the coffee pot off.
I wonder if I made coffee this morning.
 
Vincent E said:
. . . where the hell were the maintenance engineers. They should have been on the job and taken care of that dyke themselves.

Where I was graduated there was a motto of/for the engineering department.

"Yesterday, I didn't know what an engineer was." :(

"Today, I are one!" :eek:

(And they all wore black and white pinstriped, peaked hats like Casey Jones. What was that all about :confused: )



When I was graduated, was before metric became statutory, so I was graduated in Quarts. :rolleyes:
 
Quasimodem said:
Where I was graduated there was a motto of/for the engineering department.
Dear Quaz,
Motto of the Sewage and Sanitation Engineering Dept: "It may be shit to you, but it's our bread and butter."
M "EE" G
Ps. Those courses were always refered to as "turd tracing."
 
Some believe that God must have received his early training as an engineer. :D

Who else would run a sewage line through a recreational area. :eek:
 
Word turdery, I like that. Nice word invention; I'm sure we've all done it at times - I have a penchant for putting "age" on the everything I say .. e.g. "Let's go out for some foodage", etc etc.

Friend of mine likes to mix and match his words. He'll say "Yeah, I'm bifocal, I speak two languages" .. Or "I can use both hands, doesn't that make me amphibious?"
 
Speaking of hi-jacking, I read about this guy who got ona bus, pulled out a gun, and pointed it to the driver and said: "Drive to Cuba!"


That's what happens when you take Geography off the school curriculum...:rolleyes:
 
perdita said:
Geez, I knew we couldn't go too long w/o ButtGirl's potty mind churning out word turdery.
Dear Perdita,
Terribly sorry if I offended your well know delicate sensiblities.
MG
 
So, I have wash and wear sensibilities?

Dang. I like naked better.
 
I have just been given the task of composing something compelling about a movie which features the story of a woman who harbours a guilty secret. :(

All I seem capable of doing at the minute, is to sit and wonder if she also extends it dockage, or just anchorage. :confused:

And you thought your job was difficult. :rolleyes:
 
Back
Top