this story brought a tear to my eye...
...and a lol to my mouth, or something.
The difference between US' and France's presidents
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And did you know - Carla Bruni became Sarkozy's wife JUST after the election. During the campaign he was more often seen with his wife (now ex-wife) promoting "family values"... Hungarians and their sense of humour...Leave a comment:
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Odd I spent a bunch of time in A.B.E. and had a few jobs down in Philly last summer too. Never saw them there. But yeah I can see the leaking across the state boarder going both ways, in that little town.Leave a comment:
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The difference is that I would do nasty things to France's first lady.Leave a comment:
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Well I remember growing up, eating seal blubber dipped in maple syrup, sitting in my parent's igloo, and my father would tell me grand stories of this french ship that sailed through the broken ice to our shore.
The boat was filled with stinky men who wore red and white striped shirts, and beautiful women with big hairy armpits. 'They ate a lot of baguettes', he told me. 'And smoked a lot of cigarettes through long skiny black sticks'.
Onde day as my dad was tying up the dogsled to go on a whale hunt, one of the beautiful french women with bigt hairy armpits asked if she could come along. My dad, not able to speak a word of french was more than happy to oblige and said 'Oui Oui!' What my dad was really saying was that his wee wee was getting hard and he wanted her to touch it.
As they were in the middle of the hunt my dad's sled broke through the ice and he fell in the frigid water, hypothermia soon to set in. The young, beautiful french girl with the big hairy armpits was quick to think. She braided a rope out of her long brassy armpit hair and threw the lifeline to my father.
Upon returning home we all rejoiced and feasted on Tim Horton's coffee and donuts while the french people put on a mime show, drank wine, ate cheese, and then we all had a massive french orgy like on those television shows you used to stumble upon late at night when your parents were fast asleep. But guess what!? Your parent's were not asleep, no, your dad was balls deep in your mother's vag and ps, that scary noise was not a monster under your bed, oh no, it was your mom gargling your father's hot steamy baby juice before she took that final gulp.
Stereotypes - if we can't laugh at ourselves, laugh at others ;-)


That's exactly how I envisioned your youth! Now I have confirmation.Leave a comment:
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I lol'd. The sad part? I actually have a dogsled. Several in fact... :DWell I remember growing up, eating seal blubber dipped in maple syrup, sitting in my parent's igloo, and my father would tell me grand stories of this french ship that sailed through the broken ice to our shore.
The boat was filled with stinky men who wore red and white striped shirts, and beautiful women with big hairy armpits. 'They ate a lot of baguettes', he told me. 'And smoked a lot of cigarettes through long skiny black sticks'.
Onde day as my dad was tying up the dogsled to go on a whale hunt, one of the beautiful french women with bigt hairy armpits asked if she could come along. My dad, not able to speak a word of french was more than happy to oblige and said 'Oui Oui!' What my dad was really saying was that his wee wee was getting hard and he wanted her to touch it.
As they were in the middle of the hunt my dad's sled broke through the ice and he fell in the frigid water, hypothermia soon to set in. The young, beautiful french girl with the big hairy armpits was quick to think. She braided a rope out of her long brassy armpit hair and threw the lifeline to my father.
Upon returning home we all rejoiced and feasted on Tim Horton's coffee and donuts while the french people put on a mime show, drank wine, ate cheese, and then we all had a massive french orgy like on those television shows you used to stumble upon late at night when your parents were fast asleep. But guess what!? Your parent's were not asleep, no, your dad was balls deep in your mother's vag and ps, that scary noise was not a monster under your bed, oh no, it was your mom gargling your father's hot steamy baby juice before she took that final gulp.
Stereotypes - if we can't laugh at ourselves, laugh at others ;-)Leave a comment:
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Well I remember growing up, eating seal blubber dipped in maple syrup, sitting in my parent's igloo, and my father would tell me grand stories of this french ship that sailed through the broken ice to our shore.
The boat was filled with stinky men who wore red and white striped shirts, and beautiful women with big hairy armpits. 'They ate a lot of baguettes', he told me. 'And smoked a lot of cigarettes through long skiny black sticks'.
Onde day as my dad was tying up the dogsled to go on a whale hunt, one of the beautiful french women with bigt hairy armpits asked if she could come along. My dad, not able to speak a word of french was more than happy to oblige and said 'Oui Oui!' What my dad was really saying was that his wee wee was getting hard and he wanted her to touch it.
As they were in the middle of the hunt my dad's sled broke through the ice and he fell in the frigid water, hypothermia soon to set in. The young, beautiful french girl with the big hairy armpits was quick to think. She braided a rope out of her long brassy armpit hair and threw the lifeline to my father.
Upon returning home we all rejoiced and feasted on Tim Horton's coffee and donuts while the french people put on a mime show, drank wine, ate cheese, and then we all had a massive french orgy like on those television shows you used to stumble upon late at night when your parents were fast asleep. But guess what!? Your parent's were not asleep, no, your dad was balls deep in your mother's vag and ps, that scary noise was not a monster under your bed, oh no, it was your mom gargling your father's hot steamy baby juice before she took that final gulp.
Stereotypes - if we can't laugh at ourselves, laugh at others ;-)Leave a comment:
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Last time I saw a woman with hairy armpits was in Vermont...Leave a comment:

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