GuyBeardmane

Kermit hasn't sung Love Shack, as far as I know. And you can't tell me that even singing those two songs vanilla wouldn't put a smile on your face.

Sing your favorite song in either the voice of the guy from the B-52s or Kermit the Frog.

Nope. Just go home and sleep.

Just, nasty, stinky ass that's been in a sauna for too long.

I was hoping this would be a pair of leggings with one of those cartoon bombs on the ass. I am disappoint.

Only the Soylent Green. But I do eat it weekly.

I don't believe you. I'll need to see more evidence of this. For reasons.

You've got a funny lookin' autograph book.

I am doubtful.

Sub out the Cheez its with a can of Planter's Cheese Balls, and I've done the same.

It's a big enough loophole that I'm not too concerned. Also it's not like I'm seeking clientele either, just the salon owner and the owner of the shop next door, so I feel pretty comfortable with the whole deal. Plus I get to massage Heather and that's a good deal for me.

So let me get this right. He didn't move to Jamaica?

This is a thread about things that no one would believe happened to you, but have actually happened to you. Today I got offered an illegal job. The story starts about 5 years ago with my favorite hair stylist Becca, who always gives me a neck massage as part of any service. About a year and a half ago, I went to see Becca and as usual she gives me the neck massage before my scalp massage. After the service, she's talking about being sore so I tell her to take a seat and I give her a neck massage. She said it was great and told her boss Heather to sit down and let me give her a neck massage. Heather loved it, and every time I go see Heather now I give her a neck massage and she tells me I need to do it professionally. Flash forward to today. Heather asks for a hand massage, then a neck massage. Pam, the owner of the store next to the salon, comes over and sits down after Heather moves and tells me that it's her turn, so I give her a neck and shoulder massage. Then the two gang up on me and ask why I don't go to school for this, yadda yadda yadda. Then Heather starts plotting and says they still have the massage table, and says that as long as I'm not charging, then I don't have to be licensed and that I could come in on my days off and give her and Pam massages for $50 tips for an hour massage. I'm kind of a pushover anyway, and I enjoy giving massages, so next week I become an illegal masseuse. Feel free to share your stories below.

Surprised there isn't more PMJ in this thread.

It's not size, it's context. Like Kane in the movie See No Evil is a scary ass giant guy, because he's sneaking around and gruesomely murdering folks. Godzilla in the latest movie isn't scary, because he's fighting giant bugs. Godzilla wrecking Japan for waking him up is scary, though.

I am avoiding that folder, as one should avoid dumpster fires.

That's such a sexist way of thinking. Hookers make money by providing a service that people want. They're human beings as well. If you expect someone to love you when you've had previous sexual partners, it shouldn't matter if they had partners before. Like, as long as she's disease free and into me, I am down for LTR.

*hires Paul Heyman* *beats up Paul Heyman for cheers* *hires Paul Heyman again*

I've made enough posts to see the Dumpster Fires folder.

Is this in reference to when he ripped that car door off and threw it and it hit a kid in the stands? Because yes. I concur.