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The Dysfunctional-Palooza Obnoxious Masshole BS Thread

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Ok. I conceded the race. Congratulations to Mr Flatulent Fowl for unseating me from my position as Resident Drunkard. (Pause for applause...) For years I've done my best to represent the people, (applause...) coming home, downing a few adult beverages (applause...) and proceeding to share my psychosis with all of you. (Long pause for applause...). And while I've done my best...(applause...) the people have spoken and decided that its time for a change. So please join me... (Applause...) Join me in wishing the Flatulent Fowl continues success in the position of Resident Drunkard. From the early work he has shown, I'm sure he'll be at it for a long time. (Applause...). I'll still be around...(Long pause for applause...). I'll still be around here, watching over all of you and contributing as I can (applause...) but I'll also be able to spend more time with Mrs TheNurse (Long pause for applause...) and drinking in the private sector.

(Band starts playing Auld Lang Syne..)

Goodnight and I hope to run into each and every one of you , except Rookie, in a local bar where you can buy me a drink. (Applause...)
 
In here, the DPMHBS thread, is an appropriate place to discuss the collecting of toes from dead hookers stored under my shed.

In a public post that my mother might read isn't.

That said, I just get a huge kick out if that idea.

For those of you wondering WTF we're talking about, I heard on the radio yesterday about a bar in Alaska that serves a drink with a toe in the glass. And despite promising to not do so, the occasional toe goes down the occasional drunken throat, leaving the bar toe-less. So yesterday on FB, I posted my desire that upon my demise my toes get lopped off and sent to that bar. Seemed appropriate somehow...
 
Ok. I conceded the race. Congratulations to Mr Flatulent Fowl for unseating me from my position as Resident Drunkard. (Pause for applause...) For years I've done my best to represent the people, (applause...) coming home, downing a few adult beverages (applause...) and proceeding to share my psychosis with all of you. (Long pause for applause...). And while I've done my best...(applause...) the people have spoken and decided that its time for a change. So please join me... (Applause...) Join me in wishing the Flatulent Fowl continues success in the position of Resident Drunkard. From the early work he has shown, I'm sure he'll be at it for a long time. (Applause...). I'll still be around...(Long pause for applause...). I'll still be around here, watching over all of you and contributing as I can (applause...) but I'll also be able to spend more time with Mrs TheNurse (Long pause for applause...) and drinking in the private sector.

(Band starts playing Auld Lang Syne..)

Goodnight and I hope to run into each and every one of you , except Rookie, in a local bar where you can buy me a drink. (Applause...)

We should all applause to drown out the noise of this so called speech.
 
In here, the DPMHBS thread, is an appropriate place to discuss the collecting of toes from dead hookers stored under my shed.

In a public post that my mother might read isn't.

That said, I just get a huge kick out if that idea.

For those of you wondering WTF we're talking about, I heard on the radio yesterday about a bar in Alaska that serves a drink with a toe in the glass. And despite promising to not do so, the occasional toe goes down the occasional drunken throat, leaving the bar toe-less. So yesterday on FB, I posted my desire that upon my demise my toes get lopped off and sent to that bar. Seemed appropriate somehow...

No one mentioned hookers... your mind must be stuck in the gutter.
 
Met Cape for lunch the other day. Choked down a couple pints of the Bog Water and listened to him whine about how "We don't even have enough time/capacity to brew an extra couple of kegs for us to bring home for ourselves."

"Is that your way of saying that you're not going to pony up a keg for Masstoberfest?"

"Pretty much. Ya."

What a D-Bag.
 
Met Cape for lunch the other day. Choked down a couple pints of the Bog Water and listened to him whine about how "We don't even have enough time/capacity to brew an extra couple of kegs for us to bring home for ourselves."

"Is that your way of saying that you're not going to pony up a keg for Masstoberfest?"

"Pretty much. Ya."

What a D-Bag.

He took time out of His schedule to spend time with you and you treat Him this way? Isn't seeing Cape akin to getting in to see the Pope?
 

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