Seeking BBW

North vs. south


The North has sun-dried toe-mah-toes
The South has 'mater samiches

The North has coffeehouses
The South has Waffle Houses

The North has dating services
The South has family reunions

The North has switchblade knives
The South has Lee Press-on Nails

The North has double last names
The South has double first names

The North has Ted Kennedy
The South has Jesse Helms

The North has an ambulance
The South has an amalance

The North has Indy car races
The South has NASCAR

The North has Cream of Wheat or Oatmeal
The South has grits

The North has green salads
The South has collard greens and chitlins

The North has lobsters
The South has crawdads

The North has Distilleries, Brewer ies, and liquor stores
The South has stills, shine, and them ridgerunners

The North has the rust belt
The South has the Bible Belt
 
:kiss: and I - sorry if I am interrupting a nice thread - love the lovely bbws because of their very warm nature, their spontaneous sense of humour, their lovely sexy bodies and their hot chatting. Just too much. any bbw want to pm me is most welcome. I guess I have spoken too much - must be the beer - its a Sunday afternoon here.
 
DarkDad said:
:kiss: and I - sorry if I am interrupting a nice thread - love the lovely bbws because of their very warm nature, their spontaneous sense of humour, their lovely sexy bodies and their hot chatting. Just too much. any bbw want to pm me is most welcome. I guess I have spoken too much - must be the beer - its a Sunday afternoon here.

and here I am still trying to figure out the mystery of who you are, lol.
Welcome to the BBW thread Dad...you're more than welcome to
post here anytime you'd like... we love the company.

Oh Bama and Spicy........................ :devil:

FRESH MEAT!

lmao!
 
DarkDad said:
:kiss: and I - sorry if I am interrupting a nice thread - love the lovely bbws because of their very warm nature, their spontaneous sense of humour, their lovely sexy bodies and their hot chatting. Just too much. any bbw want to pm me is most welcome. I guess I have spoken too much - must be the beer - its a Sunday afternoon here.

Hiya DarkDad and welcome to our corner of LIt :rose:
 
babydoll2u said:
and here I am still trying to figure out the mystery of who you are, lol.
Welcome to the BBW thread Dad...you're more than welcome to
post here anytime you'd like... we love the company.

Oh Bama and Spicy........................ :devil:

FRESH MEAT!

lmao!

lol should we marinate him good?
 
I may have posted this one before,but when I got it again I had to share :)




Dear Friends,

My wife is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be something
akin to, "hey y'all, hold my beer and watch this!" Well, I have outdone
myself once again. And do not doubt me when I say this is a true story!!!

Here goes:......
Once upon a time..... or at least.....Last weekend, I spied something at
the local Pawn (no not Porn...Pawn) shop that tickled my fancy. (Note:
Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled). I bought something really
cool for little lady. The occasion was another anniversary and I was looking
for a little something extra for my sweet girl. What I came across was a
100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. For those of you who
are not familiar with this product, it is a less-than-lethal stun gun with
two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of
high-voltage, low amperage electricity... while you flee to safety. The
effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on
your assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to safety. You
simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb. tattooed assailant, push the button,
and it will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching,
whimpering, pencil-neck geek.

If you've never seen one of these things in action, then you're truly
missing out....way too cool! Long story short, I bought the device and
brought it home. I loaded two triple-A batteries in the darn thing and
pushed the button. Nothing! I was so disappointed. Upon reading the
detructions...er... directions (we don't need no stinkin'directions), I
found much to my annoance that this particular model would not create an arc
between the prongs. It would stun no worries... but I wanted to see the
blue electrical arc going from one prong to another!

How disappointing!
However, I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed the
gun against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arch of electricity
darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to.
Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arch of electricity, and a loud pop!!!

Yipeeeeee . . I'm easily amused, just for your information, but I have yet
to explain to Denise what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that the
zap one gets from it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A
batteries, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my cat Spaz looking on
intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me,
not Spaz) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a
flesh and blood target.

I must admit I thought about zapping Spaz for a fraction of a second and
thought better of it. He is such a sweet kitty, after all. But, if I was
going to give this thing to Denise to protect herself against a mugger, I
did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I
wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time.

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top, directions in one
hand, Tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would
shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause
muscle spasms and a loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would
supposedly make your assailant flop about on the ground like a fish out of
water. All the while I'm looking at this little device (measuring about 5"
long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference, pretty cute really, and loaded
with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, "no friggin'
way!"

Friggin' way.......trust me...... but I'm getting ahead of myself.
What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.
Those of you who know me well might heave a pretty good idea of what
followed. I'm sitting there alone, Spaz looking on with his head cocked to
one side as if to say, "don't do it mate!" Reasoning that a one-second
burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad (sound,
rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?). I decided
to give myself a one-second burst just for the hell of it. (Note: You
know, a bad decision is like hindsight....always twenty-twenty. It is so
obvious that it was a bad decision after the fact, even though it seemed so
right at the time. Don't ya hate that?)

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and I'm pretty
sure that King Kong burst in through the front door, picked me up out of
that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again.

I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on
fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked
under my body in the oddest position. Spaz was standing over me making
meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly
thinking to himself, "do it again, do it again!"

(Note: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one note of
caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap
yourself. You can't let go of the button until it is dislodged from your
hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor, then, if you're lucky, you
won't dislodge one of the prongs 1/4" deep in your thigh like yours truly.)
that hurt! So that one second burst I was gunna' try... was probably more
like five!!!!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at
this point), I collected my wits (They were spread out all over the room),
sat up and surveyed the landscape.The directions were on the mantel of the
fireplace. How did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both
titties were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with
Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. give or take an ounce or two,
I'm pretty sure.

By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away. I'm
offering a reward. They're round, rather large, kinda hairy, and handsome
if I must say so myself. Miss 'em . . . sure would like to get 'em back.
 
The high school coaches in St. Landry Parish Louisiana went to a coaches
retreat. To save money they had to room together. No one wanted to room with
coach Boudreaux because he snores so bad. They decide it's not fair to make one
of them stay with him the whole time so they vote to take turns.

Coach Fontenot sleeps wit him the first night and he comes to breakfast next
morning hair a mess, eyes all blood shot. They say, "Man, what happen to
you?"

He say, " Man, that Boudreaux snore so loud, I watch him all night!"

Next night it's coach Guidry's turn. In the morning, same thing -- hair all
standing up, eyes all blood shot. They say, "Man, what! happened to you? You
look awful!"

He say, "Man, you know, that B oudreaux shake the roof. I watched him all
night,"

Third night, coach Doucet's turn. Next morning, he comes to breakfast bright
eyed & bushy tailed. "Good morning, ya'll."

They can't believe! They say, "Man, what happened?"

He say, "Well, we get ready for bed. I go & tuck Boudreaux into bed & give
him a kiss good night. He watch me all night."
 
Last week, we took some friends out to a new restaurant, and noticed that the waiter who took our order carried a spoon in his shirt pocket.

It seemed a little strange. When the busboy brought our water and utensils, I noticed he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket. Then I looked around saw that all the staff had spoons in their pockets.

When the waiter came back to serve our soup I asked, "Why the spoon?"

"Well," he explained, "the restaurant's owners hired a consulting firm to revamp all our processes. After several months of analysis, they concluded that the spoon was the most frequently dropped utensil. It represents a drop frequency of approximately 3 spoons per table per hour. If our personnel are better prepared, we can reduce the number of trips back to the kitchen and save 15 man-hours per shift."

As luck would have it, I dropped my spoon and he was able to replace it with his spare. "I'll get another spoon next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an extra trip to get it right now." I was impressed.

I also noticed that there was a string hanging out of the waiter's fly. Looking around, I noticed that all the waiters had the same string hanging from their flies. So before he walked off, I asked the waiter, "Excuse me, but can you tell me why you have that string right there?"

"Oh, certainly!" Then he lowered his voice. "Not everyone is so observant.

That consulting firm I mentioned also found out that we can save time in the restroom. By tying this string to the tip of you know what, we can pull it out without touching it and eliminate the need to wash our hands, shortening the time spent in the restroom by 76.39 percent."


"After you get it out, how do you put it back?"

"Well," he whispered,

"I don't know about the others, but I use the spoon."
 
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