|By Nancywhiskey on Sunday, March 24, 2002 - 03:30 pm: Edit|
You all had some pretty good ideas, but do tell us the results of your individual tests. I will reveal what you should have experienced if it did not work for you. As well as the practical use of THE COPPER PENNY TEST! For those of you that it worked let us know.
|By Head_Prosthesis on Sunday, March 24, 2002 - 08:15 am: Edit|
The Atomic Sit up.
That's gay, butt funny.
The faith test is more thoelogical
|By Head_Prosthesis on Sunday, March 24, 2002 - 06:51 am: Edit|
|By Nancywhiskey on Sunday, March 24, 2002 - 04:54 am: Edit|
Well, what you need to do is take a penny, the older the better. I have been told their is a slightly higher grade copper in the older pennies. Most of the copper was mined in Utah prior to 1973.
Now you may wash the penny with a little soap and water if you like. Don't use hot water for the reasons i will explain later.
Rub the penny between fingers and thumb to make it a few degrees warmer than room temp.
As soon as the penny is warm, gently bite down on it with your front teeth. You must do this quickly. Now, hold the penny in your teeth and bring your lips down to contact the top and bottom of penny. Gently, now.
With the tip of your toung rub the edge of the penny back and forth. This should be done rapidly.
Be patient for the results. It may take longer for some to achieve the goal.
CONGRATULATIONS YOU HAVE COMPLETED THE COPPER PENNY TEST!!!!!
|By Pantagruel on Sunday, March 24, 2002 - 04:15 am: Edit|
this 'faith' test wouldn't have certain outcomes like the grand old 'atomic sit-up'?
|By Head_Prosthesis on Saturday, March 23, 2002 - 10:21 pm: Edit|
The test in which you win a bar bet being able to shit twice as much by placing a penny vertically in your ass canal and shitting out two turds at a time. Split down the middle by the lodged penny?
Did I ever tell you the old Vietnam whore trick? Where they'd place a razor blade inside the vagina suspended(I guess) so that when the Good Joe would dive in for action he'd withdraw his unit pronto only to find that it was split in half and two times the man he formerly was?
|By Head_Prosthesis on Saturday, March 23, 2002 - 10:16 pm: Edit|
The tire tread test?
|By Head_Prosthesis on Saturday, March 23, 2002 - 10:15 pm: Edit|
The faith test?
|By Head_Prosthesis on Saturday, March 23, 2002 - 10:15 pm: Edit|
The test that proves it can not kill a man?
Or the test that proves in an alternate universe you are the king of the world on only a penny a day?
|By Nancywhiskey on Friday, March 22, 2002 - 10:10 pm: Edit|
head,pantyman,jockeyman,and any rabid critters ready for the guillotine, as well as you fine laides in here. For I would have to agree,smartest,wittiest,clever,vile,trend setting craftsmen,etc. May I add that nothing is sacred? How many of you scratched and sniffed ahead of the q"s.
Do any of you jockey's remember the copper penny test. If you know the test, do not give it away, quite yet! A excellent test desinged by a tool crib attendant working the missile factories in New England. For what you may ask is this test preformed? This is so original that you would have known Mr. Silk, myself, or one of his associates to be privy to this test. I assure you this is not bullshit.
|By Louched_Liver on Friday, March 22, 2002 - 07:31 pm: Edit|
And so the Ball began.
After putting the rodents back in incarceration, we went into the living room and waited for the festivities to commence. Something I hate to do. I've been known to concoct some excuse to exit my own home before anyone arrives, and return after kickoff. Sick, but true.
Rabid appeared shortly. After we got together here last year, I shouldn't have been suprised when he showed up @ the balcony door again. But, seeing how it's 140' to the ground from here, it's disconcerting nonetheless. Polite small talk was exchanged, as is customary when sniffing out strangers, as Head and Rabid were. And who could be stranger than those 2?
After a bit of chit chat, the Pantaclan arrived. It was funny to see his daughter be ascaired of menfolk, while realising that down the road, she'll get men to walk through plate glass by cocking her hip and givin' 'em that "look" that women can give.
The boys retired to the kitchen, where arrayed were various and sundry cheap glasses, SC spoons, 3 types of sugars, and Da Booze! Betty's #3 (courtesy of the Pantyliner), Wolvie's, both clear and green, Old Way (show's how much I like these ginks, as I didn't polish it off), and rolled out the Versinthe as well. This was not a "tasting session". This was a PAH-TAY!!. Quick impressions were given of each by those who hadn't tried this or that, but the main focus was talkin' shit. It was glorious. Turns out, that in our humble opinions, we are the smartest, wittiest, mostest cleverest fuckers on the forum. Who'd have thought we'd agree to that?
A real party involves scratch n' sniff cards, so I broke out my vintage Polyesters.
What a pleasant suprise that 21 years down the road, they'd still pack enough of a wallop that they could get someone to snap their head back! That's quality.
In a foray into where the women were talking to answer a question, I noticed that the real Pants in the family, Mrs. Gruel was wearing a Manbeef.com t-shirt. This took some doing, as she had a shirt, sweater, and jacket over it. But, as they say, perseverance pays off. This discovery lead to many chuckles and guffaws as we weighed in on the choicest cuts of Manbeef, and of course, unrelatedly, but somehow appropriately, Ouchy the Clown. Some of you may recognise Ouchy from previous appearances here in the forum.
Then we spooled up the WNBC comic short about "Green Fairy". Hoo Ha! We had a goodly group chuckle about Seisure Boy, and the overall level of hysterics about the self same stuff we were tippin' back as we watched. We enjoyed the stoicism of T-bone Breaux and Joo-stahn the Sledge Man a couple of times, because they look so different than those groups of little letters they post under their tags on the forum.
Then, of course, Forrest Hump had to come out for an airing. We enjoyed Mr. Diddle-diddle and the Fullmoon Momma as well. Note to those w/a limp wand-take her shoe off, and watch the tide rise!
A quick seminar was held on the differences between hurling (no, noone did, so shut up!), and cricket.
"That's the hurling stick, and that's the hurley ball. No, that's the cricket bat, and that's the googly. No, you can't switch balls from one game to another."
You can see us practising our backswings on Head's face in the 1st Photo of Head Prosthesis thread.
After that, things are a blur. Head captured the highlights of what ensued. The only thing I can add is that only Head's willywanger could fit in the crack in the Liberty Bell replica. He rang one home for freedom.
I managed to get all the charges dropped, so don't feel you have to hold back w/your sides of the story.
|By Sicboy13 on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 08:56 pm: Edit|
(in best Boo-Boo voice):
I don't think the Ranger's gonna like this Yogi....That guys more punk than me...
(slow poke Rodriguez):
How are we goin' to get da cheese from el pussy gato? Hi-ccup?!?! Dis guy's more punk dan meee!
|By Head_Prosthesis on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 07:54 pm: Edit|
|By Louched_Liver on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 05:26 pm: Edit|
You are sick! No, just a mouthful of gooey softness. Like Christina Ricci, or a salty marhmallow. Huh, RimBoy?
|By Pantagruel on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 05:15 pm: Edit|
oi! Dogboy. Whatho!
|By Louched_Liver on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 05:03 pm: Edit|
Who the hell could this newcomer be?
|By Sicboy13 on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 02:45 pm: Edit|
rat whippets, I likey...
|By Head_Prosthesis on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 02:40 pm: Edit|
Niggah'Whisky up in da' HAAAAAAASSSSSSS!
|By Nancywhiskey on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 01:45 pm: Edit|
Hello all,allow me to give ya all a heads up.Liver,Head, Nancy Whiskey is on board and ready to sail.
|By Louched_Liver on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 01:25 pm: Edit|
Midgets? Not! The movie Head was brave enough to eyeball is called Even Dwarves Started Small. It's your basic all dwarf cast, w/the premise that the inmates have taken over a mental institution. One of the petite insurectionists is tied to a chair in the director's office, and does nothing but laugh. The aforementioned Chiclets are a couple of little (of course) blind dudes w/welder's goggles. Someone loses a shoe, shit gets smashed. The guy pictured in Head's missive can't get laid because he can't figure out how to reach the bed. A 400 lb sow and her piglets are killed, and like El Topo, it all takes place in lovely, physcotic Mexico!
After figuring out they really killed the pig and her lil' bacon brood, I'd had enough when I watched it. Seeing a monkey getting crucified takes a certain mindset I just couldn't seem to find. Head told me they only tied him up. That made me feel much better. Oh yeah. A gimpy chicken runs around for about, hmm, FOREVER! Great movie.
The Whirl Examiner is a now defunct, I believe piece of art.
Email me, send me a $1, and I'll mail you some, I've got 1/2 a grocery bag full.
I think "nothing says punk" like a domicile full of wild rats. Having 3 tame little balls of loving fur, who happen to have big orange teeth, and long, pointed, naked tails, is less so. Since the vermin are on lockdown, they get yard time for an hour or 2 every day to mingle w/the dirty humans.
As for amusement, try taking a can of Ready Whip, letting one of the little nippers grasp the nozzle in their mouth, then letting 'er rip. Hoo hah! Fun for the 4 legged rodents receiving, and the 2 legged rodents administering.
|By Barsnake on Thursday, March 21, 2002 - 11:58 am: Edit|
Head - we've missed you on the forum...
that's not my profile pic is it?
|By Head_Prosthesis on Wednesday, March 20, 2002 - 07:35 pm: Edit|
Had a hard time falling asleep. Full of beer, potaytoes and chicken wings. Checked the Forum, nothing going on as usual. I played PONG for several minutes… then hours… Then the darkness came and lahhhhhhhhhhhhhh……………
Woke up to the sound Mrs. Livah coming in from her shopping expedition. She offered coffee, tea, breakfast, etc. I hate making those big decisions so I went with the black coffee.
Seeing as I already knew the answer to the question “Who ya’ with?”
I opened with “Where ya’ from?”
Cooffee tawwk commenced and bacon hit the pan. Mrs. “L” was starting the fixins for that nights mixin. Information exchanged was proprietary and will remain confidential until such time as I forget and then it will no longer be accessible. Tell you what though, nicest woman you could meet.
The transition from pleasant conversation to a midget uprising was rather abrupt, but with Mrs. “L”s steady hand and grasp of technology she had me burning down trees, throwing stones, smashing plates and crucifying monkeys in no time.
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