"Where you stand depends on where you sit."
I have a story that I can't write out here that is, well, pure Kaiser.
In other news:
I was walking on campus yesterday wearing my kilt, and I cut across the grass to get onto a different sidewalk. Well, there was a bunch of clover, and therefore were a bunch of bees in this certain patch of grass.
Circle one of the two options of what bees do when startled: fly up / fly down.
If you chose fly up, then you have already ascertained the origin of the frantic dance with which I proceeded to entertain all comers.
Now, one would think that a bee-keeper would not move about frantically after having startled some bees, but the word I would use to describe that notion would be WRONG!!
Not only was I dancing, but when I felt one on the inside of my leg close to the round brothers, I flapped the front of my kilt a couple of times to get them out.
I bet if I had any pride at all, that would have been a difficult ordeal.
7 comments:
And that, my friend, is the reason I don't wear a skirt.
I wasn't wearing anything underneath- it's a kilt.
You say to-MAY-to, I say to-MAH-to. Either way, you have bees on your junk and I don't.
Before we went fishing today the Kaiser e-mailed me to let me know that he had to go home & change his "lower garments".
And I quote: "I’ll need to stop by the house and get out of the kilt. No ticks on the dicks."
On a related note, I think we've found a Rule 34 violation.
While I would enjoy the extra swelling, I didn't have any insect/arachnid difficulties.
Omdurman, Battle of. Bitches.
Post a Comment