Yay!No my dear. You would not be one of the recipients.
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Yay!No my dear. You would not be one of the recipients.
You're just jealous
What???? You think I'M on DJ's list?You're just jealous
Okay - let me rephrase that - it was a North American beaver...What makes a Canadian beaver different than an American beaver? Are they more polite?
j/k... great story. Animal attacks make me feel right at home.
You forgot one other type of beaver.Okay - let me rephrase that - it was a North American beaver...
Apparently there are two types:
Hinterland Who's Who - Beaver
The one mentioned above and also the Eurasian beaver!
Eurasian beaver - Peoples Trust for Endangered Species
I thought you'd have a picture of Justin Bieber under that spoilerYou forgot one other type of beaver.
Scared you for a moment.... didn't I?
Not so good pic of Miley Cyrus, right?I thought you'd have a picture of Justin Bieber under that spoiler
.....Stef rode in a Whoremobile....tee hee hee.......Okay let's move away from the supernatural but keep it in the realm of weirdness for a moment. Who wants to hear my prostitute story? Of course you do (and keep the inevitable wisecracks PG-rated, cause I don't want to get in trouble with the Mods on account of you pervs - you know who you are).
I started secondary school when I was 11, and would take a taxi to get home on evenings. The taxis here aren't like in America where you pay for a cab: it's a shared vehicle. So I'd get to the taxi-stop hoping I'd get a front seat, cause I didn't want to get stuck in the back or worse: get stuck in the backseat and be squished in the middle. Which is exactly what happened one afternoon: to my left is some hefty dude, to my right an unassuming young lady. About 5 minutes into the drive the lady turns to me and says "Look, don't feel ashamed or anything, but I'm just going to change my clothes okay?" And then she...proceeds to do exactly that. In that tight little corner, she begins to change her clothes. Like, underwear and everything. And I'm looking around and nobody else in the taxi is paying her any mind, not even the driver who I'm certain can see everything in his rear-view mirror. And all the while she keeps patting me on the shoulder saying things like, "Don't worry I'll be done soon." She even does her makeup and uses hairspray (got a decent blast in my eye for good measure too, which made my eyes red and runny and look like I was crying). Now I'm getting really nervous cause NOBODY is paying attention to the fact that there is a lady changing her clothes in the darn car and I'm just sitting there all teary and red-eyed. Needless to say, I was very relieved when I got out the car to walk home.
I didn't know what to make of that until I got to school the next day and told a friend about it. Then he told me that she must have been a prostitute. I said "what's a proseetute?" (keep in mind I was 11 and obviously not very bright at the time). Then the little idiot goes around school telling everyone Stef drove home with a proseetute.
Friends are jerks.
I couldn't say for certain, but now I have the chorus of that old Joe Diffie tune running through my head for some reason. You know, the one that says something about .....in letters three foot highWhat???? You think I'M on DJ's list?
Does Stephen believe in ghosts? And if he does, does that make his belief more credible than anyone who doesn't?
Not Tina Turner’s Simply the Best? I’m shocked... shocked, I say!I couldn't say for certain, but now I have the chorus of that old Joe Diffie tune running through my head for some reason. You know, the one that says something about .....in letters three foot high
Sometimes I crack myself up
Not once did I ever go to a slumber party and have a pillow fight. And I've been to hella' lot of sleepovers.
I have a new client at the salon. She's pretty weird. She says they've moved here from out of town.......I'm thinking she's from a little farther away.bump! C'mon people I need a fix of weird stuff,