Email to:KJ In Nude Romp: Never Again…
Good morning!
Everything in order here in my modest digs…..only ONE part of my daily routine left to execute.
And that is to DISMANTLE THE DRAGNET around my front door……
The dragnet consists of two antique anodised steel chairs lifted as keepsakes from the headquarters of the once mighty Leeton Redlegs Australian Rules Football Club.
You know the chairs. Red or green. And they’re still keeping orthopaedic surgeons busy. It’s a Four Corners just waiting to happen because the hundreds of thousands of community-minded folk who spent large parts part of their lives plonked on them all did their backs and bums in.
But for me, those same bum breakers represent security, the last line of defence between me and the Unthinkable……..
BECAUSE I HAVE LIVED THROUGH IT AND I’M NEVER GOING BACK……..
One night – like all other nights – I went to bed - nude and alone, ready to sleep the sleep of the twitchy, the naturally nervy.
The very next thing I’m aware of…….
The bang of the front door closing behind me. Nude KJ OUTSIDE the door on the landing.
FOR KJ HAS HAD HER FIRST (AND ONLY EXPERIENCE) OF SLEEP-WALKING.
PLEASE read on: This is NOT gratuitous. (cr:camil tucan: flickr)
To recap: KJ is: (1) Nude (2) Disorientated (What time is it?/Gee, my stomach needs bit of work/I’ve heard about this sort of thing on ‘Life Matters’ (3) Blind (NO seeing eye appliances/close up or long shot) (4) Incommunicado (NO mobile/NO pigeon/NO sempahore) (5) Penniless (and has nought to barter with) (6) Pitifully Alone (Why, oh why didn’t I smile at the neighbours? Thus ensuring I’d be comfortable enough to present nude in front of husbands in the middle of the the night…..?) (7) Vulnerable (WELL, WHAT DO YOU THINK?!).
I cowered in the stairwell - in a breech birthing position – for what seemed like six months.
THEN, ACTION STATIONS: THE PLAN……
After feeling my way down the stairs, I stuck my head into the recycling bin, grabbing handfuls of the Sydney Morning Herald’s classified section. Wondrous symmetry because soon, THE broad was wrapped in a broadsheet. Target? A dear friend who lived (the broad estimated) eight-minutes away (with glasses) but anything up to 45 (taking into consideration the newspaper, lack of glasses and out-of-control nerves).
……I ran, I ran, I RAN into the darkness and lots of other things. Pages of motoring advertisements and funeral announcements flying off my trembling body. Falling down. Picking myself up. Scratching my bum in repetitive fraught strokes.
But Miss Adrenaline was on the move…… And Miss Adrenaline was going to live……
……Up though the alley way at the back of the Catholic Church (Please God, please keep safe your nude and very worked up daughter)……up thingos and down thingos, hanging off thingos, feeling thingos and recoiling in horror, slipping off thingos…..AND THEN, the horror final stretch – a deserted park where bad things had happened before, even to fully-clothed, fully-sighted citizens.
GO IN THERE MISS ADRENALINE, GO IN THERE………
And go in she did. Then suddenly, a voice from the mist. South African: Afrikaan.
YOU CANNOT GO RUNNING AROUND THE PARK WITH ONLY A NEWSPAPER ON. YOU CANNOT DO THIS…..YOU CANNOT GO RUNNING AROUND…..
Suddenly, Miss Adrenaline’s demeanour changed. Survival mode at its most mysterious. Miss Adrenaline could NOT see the approaching voice. No matter. Her words came thick and fast:
I CAN GO WHERE I BLOODY WELL LIKE. NO ONE TELLS ME WHERE I CAN GO. YOU USED TO BE ABLE TO TELL PEOPLE WHERE TO GO……NO MORE, NO MORE. STEP ASIDE, STEP ASIDE….!!
Park Man actually turned out to be very sweet. Just cooling off after a long shift at a busy city steakhouse. He had with him a full red apron with the word SIZZLING on it, just at groin level. I put the apron on (my bum shaking out the back of it) and he accompanied me to my friend’s place.
Knock, knock….(4am)
(Friend) What now KJ, what now…….?
* I returned the apron to Park Man. Gave him a box of chocolates and two hand towels which Gwennie had put magnificent knitted edges on. Neither of us said much.
Understandable. Even I have barely spoken of the woeful sequence of events of that night….until now……..
*******************************************************************
Well, I feel okay now. What about you? Do you HAVE to be in control? You’ll come unstuck….yes you will….just like I did……Your biggest and best out-of-control experience? What did you learn? Are you a sleepwalker? Or do you just enjoy doing bad things and say it’s because of somnambulism? AND if anything strikes you as vaguely interesting about your life, do report in or they’ll close us down. NOTHING is too small …….believe me you….
THE GINGER MAN is still enjoying the bush hospitality afforded by the locals at The Fat Lamb Hotel - follow his escapades in the comments section. God Bless The Ginger Man!!!
(cr: capn mad matt: flickr)
******ALL commenters go for it!! Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore it.
Prawn Cutlet Award
July 6th, 2009 at 11:51 am
Hi KJ
You know what, you know what, you know what?
When you’re hot, you’re HOT.
And it’s not just my hot bot…..(the one that nurse in Qld tweaked).
With the Rev Kev: It’s the whole hot tottin’ lot.
I’m sure you caught me on Rove (with Bruno) who said of me,
…..and I quote:
The Rev Kev’s SO HOT.
It’s almost certainly why the Pope wants to see me.
Smoothshanks has advised me not to mention that I jumped ship and joined the Prods some years ago.
And Sii also says better to keep quiet about that unfortunate incident on the scout camp with Father Bumjoy all those years ago (amazing what you had to do to get your first aid badge).
I agree with Smoothshanks on this one.
As I said to Malcolm only the other day:
Time to move on…….
Dear The Rev Kev,
Tall poppy or what? But be careful. We are (of course) a country of people well known for prancing around with pruning clippers at the ready. I myself LIKE confidence – a strong sense of self – in a man. It’s a Murrumbigee Irrigation Area thing: Big men with big dreams. And good luck to ‘em….. KJ.
July 6th, 2009 at 12:15 pm
On Bad Things Happening Unexpectedly
Caught out at 72,
Jesus bowled the ball….
Somebody threw it from the outer,
Didn’t hurt him at all.
http://www.mailonsunday.co.uk/news/article-1197617/Cricket-umpire-72-killed-ball-thrown-match.html
July 6th, 2009 at 3:28 pm
IN THE SHOPFRONT NEAR THE FAT LAMB HOTEL
What is happening here please?
I woke up this morn to find Harry the Hare sitting on my chest with a big goofy grin.
I thought I had raised predators.
But they (Fingo, Fetsina, nee Brekkie, and The Five Super Puppies and Fabina) have adopted Harry.
Is there no mercy?
Bedside absinthe needed.
July 6th, 2009 at 4:24 pm
Dear KJ,
My students particularly enjoy hearing the Colin Thiele story, The Lock-Out.
It tells the story of a kid called Jim who is locked out of home without a stitch on.
It really gets those self-taught pilots going:
“Come down immediately!”
Think I’ll read it again at 3:00pm, this Friday.
School holidays you know……..
Dear Megsy,
The late, great Colin Thiele……
He died on September 4th, 2006, just before Steve Irwin (Sept 6th, 2006). It is said that Australia failed to mark his death in a manner appropriate: our collective concentration was on the demise of The Crocodile Hunter. ‘Storm Boy’ was, is and will always be ‘perfection’ story telling. KJ.
July 6th, 2009 at 4:34 pm
Did anyone come running up to you asking: What’s news KJ, what’s news?
The Dude: No, they did NOT. But one bloke did approach me wanting to know where he could get a good deal on the latest Ford. KJ.
July 6th, 2009 at 6:02 pm
Dear TBL, what else you been looking at in Femail? Shame!
See what your nude romps bring out in people KJ?
………Meanwhile in Missionville, the case of the half-poisoned family gets murkier.
I go into the supermarket – am staring into some cleaning goods. While talking to my son I slip in a reference to murdering the next door neighbour’s dog.
A man gives me a filthy look.
I turn slightly, looking him in the eye: just because I FEEL like it doesn’t mean I’m gunna do it.
Bold I am.
KJ, did your body go mouldy the day following the nude romp?
Greek and loving it,
You CANNOT speak to children about killing people’s pets or poisoning their lantana. This is Australia 2009 – NOT Greece, something or rather BC.
No, my temple did NOT go mouldy. Though for weeks after, I had people approaching me trying to read my full-body news print. One fella, after close inspection, said that I was ‘old news…’ What a creep! KJ.
July 7th, 2009 at 1:22 am
I read the News today…..
Oh, GIRL!
July 7th, 2009 at 11:08 am
Dear KJ,
What is your American Indian name?
Night Dancer With Herald…..
July 7th, 2009 at 11:17 am
Another thought – thank God this happened before the GFC.
You would have had some bugger come up to you:
EXCUSE ME, DO YOU MIND STANDING STILL FOR A MOMENT?….JUST WANT TO CHECK OUT THE POSITIONS VACANT.
July 7th, 2009 at 11:22 am
KJ,
Have sent your infomation to Forensic and CSI re series of unsolved murders.
By the way, do you happen to have a record titled SEA OF LOVE?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVJAW-ag7fs
Chadwick, yes I do. AND I’ve watched the movie 5,789 times IN THE NUDE……KJ.
July 7th, 2009 at 11:46 am
Came downstairs as An Act Of Courage.
Saw the terrible post.
KJ, what is the State of your Origin?
It’s an epidemic!
Hotel Shame & State Of Origin Star
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/07/07/2618532.htm
July 7th, 2009 at 1:16 pm
Hi KJ
Yes, as we go down life’s highway – and can I just say how much quicker that’s gonna be
once we get the Rev Kev’s superhighway up and runnin’ -
Life can be embarassing.
It’s not always your fault…..(as I told T when I got a little tiddly,
and found myself in a bar full of naked women stateside) it was that man from News Ltd.
I honestly had no idea what I was walking into.
But ya know what?
I’ve found a man who’s not embarassed about anything…
His name is Silvio.
He’s a very young 72.
Hangs out with 18-year-old girls,
Owns the biggest football club in Italy.
Most of the media.
And runs the whole damn show.
When I told him about my little UTE problem, he laughed and laughed and laughed.
Then he asked me for Malcolm’s home address.
Do you think I was wrong to give it to him?
Yrs,
worriedly,
The Rev Kev
PS. He asked me to ask you to say hello to ‘Big Tony’ in Griffith.
The Rev Kev,
Been in touch with ‘Big Tony’. Passed on his regards. And he said good on ya for going hard on the Pope to canonise Mary MacKillop NOW. ‘You gotta keep the pressure up on Popes,’ Big Tony said. ‘One foot wrong here and Mary M is sunk…..makes me bloody angry, really does….I’m burnin’ up….’
‘Big Tony’ said to give him a call any time. KJ.
July 7th, 2009 at 2:06 pm
I have a nephew who sleepwalks, which I find most unsettling on my rare visits because unlike most sleepwalkers – who apparently have uncanny powers of somnolent navigation – he crashes around the joint in the middle of the night, cannoning into walls and doors.
I have also been caught abroad in a state of nakedness but I wasn’t asleep.
I was attending a party at the farmhouse home of my paramour, and at one stage in proceedings we adjourned to the parental bedroom for an (ahem) interpersonal encounter.
Feeling the call of nature some time later, I decided that instead of making myself decent and braving the crowds in the house, I would pop out the french doors au naturel and make use of the extensive grounds.
Little did I know that a splinter group of partygoers had set up a campfire by the dam, so that my egress from the side of the house elicited a spontaneous chorus of whooping and hollering.
A better, bolder and more bohemian person than myself would have straightened up, jutted out the jaw and pressed on regardless, but I got all alarmed and confused and scurried back inside.
Dear Roma Street,
Please be assured that the events of that night appear bohemian enough – any MORE so, and you would have been heading towards the realm of the macabre. I trust you are aware that fellas whose number one aim is to experience intimate embrace in their parent’s bedroom can never be satisfied. Next, it’s their uncle’s car, then their grandfather’s aviary, then their grandmother’s sewing room…….and on it on it goes until there’s NO more challenges. The result is a sexless relationship. Oh my, the painful flood of memories you’ve unleashed……
With regards to your nephew. I do hope he’s a country boy. Where, as we know, EVERYTHING is in sleepwalking distance…… KJ.
July 7th, 2009 at 6:13 pm
The Rev Kev,
Why weren’t we given this FIRST?
Crikey has secured an advance transcript of tomorrow’s meeting in Rome between Prime Ministers Berlusconi and Rudd, also attended by Australia’s Ambassador to Italy, the Hon. Amanda Vanstone:
Rudd: Signor Primo Ministro, le vorrei presentare l’ambasciatrice Vanstone. Prime Minister, I would like to introduce you to Ambassador Vanstone.
Vanstone: Il mio cuore batte per lei, eccellenza. My heart beats for you, Excellency. Sono la sua ammiratrice numero 1. I am your #1 admirer.
Berlusconi: Lei mi incanta, Ambasciatrice. I am entranced, Ambassador. Mi farebbe il piacere di venire alla prossima festa alla mia villa? Would you accept an invitation to my next villa party?
Vanstone: Mama mia. Mama mia!
Rudd: Signor Primo Ministro, e’ un vero onore venire in Italia. Prime Minister, we are honoured to visit your country. Le vorrei porre una domanda dell’infrastruttura: I treni, arrivano in orario adesso? I have an infrastructure question: do the trains run on time yet?
Berlusconi: Lavoro in corso. Work-in-progress. Piu’ espresso? More expresso?
Vanstone: Il mio cuore batte per lei… My heart beats for you…
Rudd: Arriverderci, Prime Minister. Goodbye, Prime Minister.
Berlusconi: Arriverderci, Prime Minister. Goodbye, Prime Minister.
Vanstone: Il mio cuore batte per lei. My heart beats for you…….
July 7th, 2009 at 8:46 pm
THE DERELICT SHOPFRONT NEAR THE FAT LAMB HOTEL
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
A white cockatoo has arrived and has taken up residence.
I have called him Rev Kev.
Kev The Cocky has really made himself at home.
We are by candlelight because he has broken all the light fittings.
I know how Noah felt.
July 8th, 2009 at 2:04 am
IN THE DERELICT SHOPFRONT NEAR THE FAT LAMB HOTEL
The Cocky speaks.
It says:
You know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know whatYou know what……………
July 8th, 2009 at 10:00 am
I cover G8 for you.
I cover next G-string-20, in September.
Many earthshakes here in Italy. I thought Angela Merkin here at Table.
I have ear to Table.
I am Under The Table Top Man.
Much to report Down Here.
Under Papal Table Top, I listen to The Rev Kev discuss excommunication of Mad Monk.
Papal Skills Abbott here soon.
–UTTTM News.
July 8th, 2009 at 10:05 am
Bella KJ
Didn’t you get my postcard?
My fault.
I gave it to Ambassador Vanstone to post!
I must say she’s looking very well – Italy suits her……she speaks the lingo fluently, and has adapted well to the local culture, particularly the food and the wine -
BUT, it seems, if you want a job doing, you’ve gotta do it youself.
Your information is spot on.
My new amigo Silvio (with much winking and nudging) – DID invite me to a villa house party
…..BUT my personal bodyguard Garry Handjob (I gather you know Garry – used to play for the Mighty Redlegs) strongly advised me NOT to go under any circumstances.
The Rev Kev, sure Silvio can control what goes into his papers, but the Dirty Digger’s presses are a different matter……
Must rush – gotta sort out climate change by tea time.
The Rev Kev,
This is a site with a ‘publish or be dammed’ attitude. Subsequently, I am pleased to announce we have secured the services of the top-shelf freelancer, Under The Table Top Man, to cover your tour. Please afford UTTTM the respect he deserves. KJ.
July 8th, 2009 at 11:15 am
THE DERELICT SHOPFRONT NEAR THE FAT LAMB HOTEL
YOUKNOWWHATYOUKNOWWHATYOUKNOWWHATYOUKNOWWHATYOUKNOWWHAT….
I could stand no more. YOUKNOWWHAT………….
I applied a gag to my new feathered friend. YOUKN————(He bit me).
Kev the Cocky ate through the muffler (my old Trinity scarf), and began a new litany.
FREE UTE FREE UTE FREEUTEFREEUTE FREEUTEFREEUTEFREEUTEFREEUTEFREEUTE FREEUTE….
Whereupon a farmer entered The Ginger Man Shoppe saying:
G’day I could do with a ute. (Heck, it’s just a bloody bird!!!)
He produced a shotgun.
R.I.P. Kev the Cocky.
A short but very eloquent life……………..
July 9th, 2009 at 1:26 am
IN THE DERELICT SHOFRONT NEAR THE FAT LAMB HOTEL
Festina, the Five Super Puppies, Fabina the Fox and Fingo – the half dingo half fox – have cracked a hissy fit. Their eyes bored into me before they flopped in corners and ignored their host.
They loved the Late Little Kev The Cocky.
I had to do something.
Fortunately I trained as a taxidermist at Bletchley (We had a lot of fun with Goering after his Trial and popping the pill, but that’s another story) so I was able to take action.
Look fellas, Cocky’s just a bit tired. So why don’t we all have an early night too? Eh,eh,eh?
In the dark hours I performed the grisly deed.
In the morning, Kev The Cocky looked quite perky, apart from being a little dead.
The beads for eyes did not match, and the beak was a little King of Pop, but who’s perfect?
I perched him in a canary cage I found around the place. I hung it from a rope from the ceiling.
Say good morning to Kev, fellers. He’s a bit droopy from a rough night, so be nice and quiet.
Tails wagged……
It was working.
Knock, knock.
Another farmer. Not another shotgun, please! Have they no mercy at the Fat Lamb Hotel?
Gday, just doing a bit of shopping. Thought I might get something for the little woman.
It was Aeroplane Jim, scanning the ceiling as usual because of his fused neck from the bulldozer.
And up there hanging in Aero’s sightline was Kev The Cocky.
What’s that?
That’s Kev the Cocky. Wonderful creature.
Doesn’t say much, does he? [Am I in Monty Python or what?]
He’s very, very tired. Didn’t sleep a wink last night. Usually a real chatterbox…….
FREE UTE FREE UTE FREE UTE and YOU KNOW WHAT YOU KNOW WHAT YOU KNOW WHAT……
I’ll take him ! Here’s a fiver. My wife voted for Kevin R.
Aeroplane Jim snapped up Kev The Cocky in his cage and departed.
I hope that Aeroplane Jim does not have a shotgun too, and nor does Mrs Aeroplane Jim.
The menagerie inhabitants fortunately were having a snooze during this incident……..
July 9th, 2009 at 1:32 am
I have only one word for Harry the Hare:
DELICIOUS!
Harry’s gone home to mummy…..I told the fellas rubbing my tummy.
July 9th, 2009 at 9:17 am
TGM,
I fear the ‘bedside absinthe’ is taking its toll. I’ve seen it happen before. Strange people suddenly turning up in country towns, promising the world.
Doesn’t take long for the locals to suss them out.
Beware TGM – once you are declared ‘a low down dirty blow in’ there’s NO going back.
July 9th, 2009 at 2:10 pm
Bella KJ
Can I just say……that rumours of my death are highly exaggerated.
Cos y’know what?
You can take the Kev out of the Cocky BUT you can’t take the Cocky out of the Kev.
Eg: I’ve just been to the newsagents and seen a “vision’
of myself (alive and well) in full technicolour on the cover of Time magazine.
As I said to my new pal Benny:
Y’know what?
It’s a bleedin’ miracle!
Benny looked a little startled,
got down on his knees and said:
Let us pray.
(which I take as a ’sign’).
Hope everything’s sweet in Oz….
And tell the folks not to worry -
The Rev Kev’ll be rootin’ tootin’ back home real soon.
*Silvio told a funny story about cockies, which Ambassador Vanstone translated for me:
There’s an old Italian saying -
Man with hole in pocket……
Feel cocky all day!
Dear The Rev Kev,
Did OUR ambassador to The Holy See, Tim Fischer, agree to see you on this trip? Have seen NO mention. But I know he’s been very busy……saw a great profile piece in a recent Inside The Vatican magazine.
(Excerpt)
Interviewer: Could you tell me a little bit about Domus Australia, and what the purpose behind its construction is?
Fischer: It is located within five minutes of Stazione Termini. It is going to end up with about 70 bedrooms and quite large shower cubicles because there is not so many decent sized ones in Rome. It is complete with a chapel which is a magnificent chapel and we hope we’ll have Anzac Day Masses at that chapel, amongst other things, because it is easy to get into and from………..
Full interview: http://www.insidethevatican.com/newsflash/2009/newsflash-jun-04-09.htm
KJ
July 9th, 2009 at 6:42 pm
Tim Fischer has a strong Leeton connection. He was in a motor vehicle accident (not his fault) in which a married couple from Leeton were killed outright.
Dear Roma Street,
Yes. Terrible. The accident (and its aftermath) is described in a biography by Peter Rees (’The Boy From Boree Creek’)
http://books.google.com.au/books?id=_kovanpuYloC&pg=PA179&lpg=PA179&dq=tim+fischer+car+accident&source=bl&ots=YitXScbxQ1&sig=6IncaqOI-CMef7gqNEuFk2inAhw&hl=en&ei=JbpVSvWIOIqsswOZzvjzAQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1
July 9th, 2009 at 9:24 pm
Came downstairs as An Act Of Courage – with my NEW beanie on which I purchased from Woolies.
It’s got two poms poms on it.
What is it with poms poms?
Are they put there to ward off evil spirits?
Dear Red Knuckle,
Take it easy…..take it easy. Poms poms are STRICTLY for fun….. KJ.
July 10th, 2009 at 5:30 pm
Hi Red Knuckle – I also have a hat with two pom poms on it.
I’m not sure how or where yours are attached to the body of the hat, but mine swing from the end of two long threads of plaited wool whacking me in the face if I turn too quickly.
Can you tell me where yours are attached? Maybe I will move mine.
Simone said today: ‘Have you got one of those slow cookers?’
(I don’t but a friend of mine has and I’ve seen the results. Grey, very grey and very oily on top).
I don’t answer because Simone is plonking hot wax across the lower half my face. She goes on: ‘I put the lamb and the garlic in, onions and tomatoes and I put it on before I go to bed AND the smell I nearly died!’
Simone can be very cryptic: ‘I kept waking up all night, and then in the morning, I felt sick…..the garlic, it was shocking…’
(I wish her hand would stop shaking)
‘I told the boys eat it all before I got home.’ Simone’s laughing, I’m laughing my eyebrows are stiff with wax and I’m wondering what going to be pulled off here.
Last night, both my boys slept walked simultaneously.
Dear Greek and loving it: LAST NIGHT MY TWO BOYS SLEPT WALKED SIMULTANEOUSLY! You DO realise what you’re claiming? I suspect this is a WORLD FIRST. Did you discover your Attention Deficit Disorder slumberers dancing together? Fighting each other? Swapping lunchboxes? Did they wake up in unison? I fear Greek and loving it that THIS time you have gone too far.
* My, My – a FULL lower face waxing…….you’ve really gotta have balls to go through that…..KJ.
July 10th, 2009 at 5:44 pm
Oh my, a very exciting opportunity – and it is to co-ordinate a new subject next semester!
The email just arrived, an expression of interest to all in the faculty to put their hands up for one of a half dozen subjects in a new degree and what’s caught my heart? I shouldn’t have to tell you – Sonology.
Dear The Lonely Scholar,
That Dean of yours is unstoppable – a real trailblazer. I await the first tertiary-educated batch of unemployed, angry Sonologists. (They’re called ’sound guys’ where I come from). KJ.
July 11th, 2009 at 8:11 pm
Hi Greek and loving it,
100 per cent acrylic. Made in China. Dark navy blue with two pom pom balls swinging from the middle of the head like some creature from outer space whose evolutionary development took a different course in male genitalia.
The purpose of the pom pom? To make others giggle after you have passed by.
What is it with this pom pom craze?
Is it do distinguish us from balaclava robbers of service stations?
You can make your own:
http://www.kid-craft-central.com/pom-poms.html
Dear Red Knuckle,
What was it about NUNS and pom pom craft? They couldn’t get enough of it…..KJ.
July 12th, 2009 at 7:11 am
Hi Red Knuckle,
Yes, you’re right – the pom poms on our hats do look exactly like ….’some creature from outer space whose evolutionary development took a different course in male genitalia.’
AND I can confirm this because I went to see Transformers: The Revenge of the Fallen and one of the transformers did have testicles just so attached. Amazing……
July 12th, 2009 at 2:16 pm
Climate change? I have found Angela Merkin Hot, Hot, Hot.
Under The Table Top Man.