Somethings you don't want to see...ever

[SeerSGB]

Took the laundry over to the laundrymat this afternoon (Washer and Dryer are both out of commission, I think it was a murder suicide, the Washer was jealous of the dryer and the electric razor). Should have known better than to do that the night after a fishing competition down at the river(The 'mat is a 1/2 mile up the road from the river, and most Saturday nights it's full with people washing up from the day's boating).

Go in, bunch of middle to senior age men and women (we'll say "country folk") and a handful of teens. Pickled out of their minds, carrying on, having a party, basically being idiots; the stench of cheap beer, gas, and fish is just ripe in the air. I groan a little, and decide "well the laundry's gotta get done". I start hauling in the baskets when I see one of the teen girls jerking off one of the teen boys, with a drunk elderly lady watching them from across the table with this creepy smile on her face. I just pack up and turn heels and leave; figure I'll try again tomorrow morning while everyone's at church.

Drunks, I can deal with it; it's Tennessee on a Saturday night, drunk idiots is a fact of life. But I really don't want to see Granny Clampet get her perv on while the kiddies are get theirs on.

 

[Count Zero]

Sounds like you live in a fun place. Well, the special kind of fun.

 

[F. King Daniel]

Eewwwwww.

 

[Holdfast]

Took the laundry over to the laundrymat this afternoon (Washer and Dryer are both out of commission, I think it was a murder suicide, the Washer was jealous of the dryer and the electric razor). Should have known better than to do that the night after a fishing competition down at the river(The 'mat is a 1/2 mile up the road from the river, and most Saturday nights it's full with people washing up from the day's boating).

Go in, bunch of middle to senior age men and women (we'll say "country folk") and a handful of teens. Pickled out of their minds, carrying on, having a party, basically being idiots; the stench of cheap beer, gas, and fish is just ripe in the air. I groan a little, and decide "well the laundry's gotta get done". I start hauling in the baskets when I see one of the teen girls jerking off one of the teen boys, with a drunk elderly lady watching them from across the table with this creepy smile on her face. I just pack up and turn heels and leave; figure I'll try again tomorrow morning while everyone's at church.

Drunks, I can deal with it; it's Tennessee on a Saturday night, drunk idiots is a fact of life. But I really don't want to see Granny Clampet get her perv on while the kiddies are get theirs on.

Says the guy with an avatar showing Beverly Crusher getting off with a ghost that banged her grandmother...

 

[SeerSGB]

Took the laundry over to the laundrymat this afternoon (Washer and Dryer are both out of commission, I think it was a murder suicide, the Washer was jealous of the dryer and the electric razor). Should have known better than to do that the night after a fishing competition down at the river(The 'mat is a 1/2 mile up the road from the river, and most Saturday nights it's full with people washing up from the day's boating).

Go in, bunch of middle to senior age men and women (we'll say "country folk") and a handful of teens. Pickled out of their minds, carrying on, having a party, basically being idiots; the stench of cheap beer, gas, and fish is just ripe in the air. I groan a little, and decide "well the laundry's gotta get done". I start hauling in the baskets when I see one of the teen girls jerking off one of the teen boys, with a drunk elderly lady watching them from across the table with this creepy smile on her face. I just pack up and turn heels and leave; figure I'll try again tomorrow morning while everyone's at church.

Drunks, I can deal with it; it's Tennessee on a Saturday night, drunk idiots is a fact of life. But I really don't want to see Granny Clampet get her perv on while the kiddies are get theirs on.

Says the guy with an avatar showing Beverly Crusher getting off with a ghost that banged her grandmother...

Yeah, well it's tis the season of Halloween. And event then Granny wasn't watching Beverly in a room full of drunken mountain folk now was she.

 

[Mr Light]

This thread is useless without pictures.

Kidding!

 

[star]

OP: That's just.... wrong.

 

[Locutus of Bored]

Took the laundry over to the laundrymat this afternoon (Washer and Dryer are both out of commission, I think it was a murder suicide, the Washer was jealous of the dryer and the electric razor). Should have known better than to do that the night after a fishing competition down at the river(The 'mat is a 1/2 mile up the road from the river, and most Saturday nights it's full with people washing up from the day's boating).

Go in, bunch of middle to senior age men and women (we'll say "country folk") and a handful of teens. Pickled out of their minds, carrying on, having a party, basically being idiots; the stench of cheap beer, gas, and fish is just ripe in the air. I groan a little, and decide "well the laundry's gotta get done". I start hauling in the baskets when I see one of the teen girls jerking off one of the teen boys, with a drunk elderly lady watching them from across the table with this creepy smile on her face. I just pack up and turn heels and leave; figure I'll try again tomorrow morning while everyone's at church.

Drunks, I can deal with it; it's Tennessee on a Saturday night, drunk idiots is a fact of life. But I really don't want to see Granny Clampet get her perv on while the kiddies are get theirs on.

Says the guy with an avatar showing Beverly Crusher getting off with a ghost that banged her grandmother...

Proving that Casper the friendly ghost isn't "the friendliest ghost we know."

 

[Amaris]

Took the laundry over to the laundrymat this afternoon (Washer and Dryer are both out of commission, I think it was a murder suicide, the Washer was jealous of the dryer and the electric razor). Should have known better than to do that the night after a fishing competition down at the river(The 'mat is a 1/2 mile up the road from the river, and most Saturday nights it's full with people washing up from the day's boating).

Go in, bunch of middle to senior age men and women (we'll say "country folk") and a handful of teens. Pickled out of their minds, carrying on, having a party, basically being idiots; the stench of cheap beer, gas, and fish is just ripe in the air. I groan a little, and decide "well the laundry's gotta get done". I start hauling in the baskets when I see one of the teen girls jerking off one of the teen boys, with a drunk elderly lady watching them from across the table with this creepy smile on her face. I just pack up and turn heels and leave; figure I'll try again tomorrow morning while everyone's at church.

Drunks, I can deal with it; it's Tennessee on a Saturday night, drunk idiots is a fact of life. But I really don't want to see Granny Clampet get her perv on while the kiddies are get theirs on.

Says the guy with an avatar showing Beverly Crusher getting off with a ghost that banged her grandmother...

Proving that Casper the friendly ghost isn't "the friendliest ghost we know."

Zing!

You know, Sith, the problem here is someone's wingman didn't run the right offense for granny.
He should have stayed on point.

 

[Holdfast]

Drunks, I can deal with it; it's Tennessee on a Saturday night, drunk idiots is a fact of life. But I really don't want to see Granny Clampet get her perv on while the kiddies are get theirs on.

Says the guy with an avatar showing Beverly Crusher getting off with a ghost that banged her grandmother...

Proving that Casper the friendly ghost isn't "the friendliest ghost we know."

Now I'm imagining Casper porn.

Damn you Locutus, damn you to HELL.

 

[Locutus of Bored]

Says the guy with an avatar showing Beverly Crusher getting off with a ghost that banged her grandmother...

Proving that Casper the friendly ghost isn't "the friendliest ghost we know."

Now I'm imagining Casper porn.

Damn you Locutus, damn you to HELL.

This won't help then.

Note: Be grateful that I went for the least offensive image I found. Rule 34 is a bitch.

 

[Amaris]

Proving that Casper the friendly ghost isn't "the friendliest ghost we know."

Now I'm imagining Casper porn.

Damn you Locutus, damn you to HELL.

This won't help then.

Note: Be grateful that I went for the least offensive image I found. Rule 34 is a bitch.

Meh. He probably had to rent Prozac Nation like the rest of us.

 

[Tribbles]

I'm going to Tennessee next weekend on vacation. I've been worried about bears; maybe they shouldn't be my biggest concern!

 

[sidious618]

I don't know about you guys but I'm ordering some cheap tickets to Tennessee.

 

[AstroSmurf]

^ Don't. I know what he means when he says "Country Folks" and he is most definitely not talking about the Clampits.

(I have a feeling that I am living within fifty miles of you, TheGallifreyanSith. These are probably the same wackos that come grocery shopping here. I refuse to buy produce in a market where scores of unwashed hands with crusty finger nails have handled all of it. Bleh. I have been driving well out of my way each week to shop in a store that has been unmolested by "country folk".)


As for my "something" you don't ever want to see... We had a Halloween costume contest a couple of years ago at work. Being the resident HR I was tasked with taking everyone's picture for the breakroom bulletin board. Later that evening, while sorting through the photos on my computer, I ran across a particular image I had taken of our bar staff. It looked pretty innocent at first, that is until I hit "full size" in Photoshop and proceeded to almost vomit into my keyboard. One of the woman had dressed as a German Barmaid complete with short skirt and tam. And here she was, captured in high resolution digital glory, perched on the edge of the bar, her skirt hiked-up, with her vagina hanging out. But before all of you get excited let me describe her. She was 50, bleach blond, built like Ms. Balbricker, addicted to the tanning bed and didn't know the meaning of a bikini wax. Needless to say it looked like two old pieces of fuzzy beef jerky, surrounded by cottage cheese, melting down the front of the bar counter. I almost snapped the keyboard in half trying to delete that picture. I couldn't get it off the screen fast enough. *shudder* Now it is forever burned into my cerebrum haunting me in nightmares from the seventh level of hell.

 

[scotpens]

. . .I almost snapped the keyboard in half trying to delete that picture. I couldn't get it off the screen fast enough. *shudder* Now it is forever burned into my cerebellum haunting me in nightmares from the seventh level of hell.

I think you mean your cerebrum -- but, whatever.


Now I'm going to have to think of Rhona Mitra in a bikini for at least the next 12 hours to get that image out of my head.

 

[Locutus of Bored]

As for my "something" you don't ever want to see... We had a Halloween costume contest a couple of years ago at work. Being the resident HR I was tasked with taking everyone's picture for the breakroom bulletin board. Later that evening, while sorting through the photos on my computer, I ran across a particular image I had taken of our bar staff. It looked pretty innocent at first, that is until I hit "full size" in Photoshop and proceeded to almost vomit into my keyboard. One of the woman had dressed as a German Barmaid complete with short skirt and tam. And here she was, captured in high resolution digital glory, perched on the edge of the bar, her skirt hiked-up, with her vagina hanging out. But before all of you get excited let me describe her. She was 50, bleach blond, built like Ms. Balbricker, addicted to the tanning bed and didn't know the meaning of a bikini wax. Needless to say it looked like two old pieces of fuzzy beef jerky, surrounded by cottage cheese, melting down the front of the bar counter. I almost snapped the keyboard in half trying to delete that picture. I couldn't get it off the screen fast enough. *shudder* Now it is forever burned into my cerebellum haunting me in nightmares from the seventh level of hell.

You must have worked with Meredith.

[yt]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QiwAf8ltuk[/yt]

[yt]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkeVbfilJys&feature=related[/yt]

 

[SmoothieX]

I'm going to Tennessee next weekend on vacation. I've been worried about bears; maybe they shouldn't be my biggest concern!

Hey I'm going there myself next weekend on vacation as well! Camping in the Smoky Mtns.

My guess is that a can of bear repellent works on mountain folk just as well.

 

[AstroSmurf]

. . .I almost snapped the keyboard in half trying to delete that picture. I couldn't get it off the screen fast enough. *shudder* Now it is forever burned into my cerebellum haunting me in nightmares from the seventh level of hell.

I think you mean your cerebrum -- but, whatever.


Now I'm going to have to think of Rhona Mitra in a bikini for at least the next 12 hours to get that image out of my head.

This is what happens when I drink and post. Fixed.

You must have worked with Meredith.

Oh. My. God. I don't watch The Office so I have never seen that before. But yes... *shudder* Now I am having flashbacks.

 

[Holdfast]

Proving that Casper the friendly ghost isn't "the friendliest ghost we know."

Now I'm imagining Casper porn.

Damn you Locutus, damn you to HELL.

This won't help then.

Note: Be grateful that I went for the least offensive image I found. Rule 34 is a bitch.

I just did a search to test Rule 34's applicability to this instance. The world is a dark, dark, dark place.

As for my "something" you don't ever want to see... We had a Halloween costume contest a couple of years ago at work. Being the resident HR I was tasked with taking everyone's picture for the breakroom bulletin board. Later that evening, while sorting through the photos on my computer, I ran across a particular image I had taken of our bar staff. It looked pretty innocent at first, that is until I hit "full size" in Photoshop and proceeded to almost vomit into my keyboard. One of the woman had dressed as a German Barmaid complete with short skirt and tam. And here she was, captured in high resolution digital glory, perched on the edge of the bar, her skirt hiked-up, with her vagina hanging out. But before all of you get excited let me describe her. She was 50, bleach blond, built like Ms. Balbricker, addicted to the tanning bed and didn't know the meaning of a bikini wax. Needless to say it looked like two old pieces of fuzzy beef jerky, surrounded by cottage cheese, melting down the front of the bar counter. I almost snapped the keyboard in half trying to delete that picture. I couldn't get it off the screen fast enough. *shudder* Now it is forever burned into my cerebrum haunting me in nightmares from the seventh level of hell.

The Casper porn was more appealing.