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Posts for: Bog Irish
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Feb 18, 2021 09:25:44   #
The CDB is Awesome wrote:
I Made a good bit of these myself, Dont judge.


CDB: About that shoe factory fire; it was started by a heel with a hole in his soul....
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Feb 14, 2021 09:41:48   #
Fredfish wrote:
Spread the word Bobby!

Thanks BF.


You're right Fish. And the word of the day is legs! Spread the word. ...
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Feb 14, 2021 09:34:20   #
kandydisbar wrote:
Reminds me..."If I tell you you have a nice body, will you hold it against me?"


kandy: Word of the day is legs. Spread the word. ...
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Jan 25, 2021 09:54:30   #
Larry M wrote:
The original version of The Thing in WW2.
In Germany The Thing was called a Volkswagen 181.


Also known as the Kubelwagen. A watery version was made called the Schwimmenwagen, which had a flip-down propeller, allowing it to traverse streams and lakes. They were designated a Naval vessel because of this attribute, and most were destroyed after WWII.
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Jan 12, 2021 09:09:30   #
EasternOZ wrote:
Dreams.

Yup, dreams. Had a couple wet ones last night. Wooda had more, but I went to sleep. Just fer yuks... thanks RJS

https://youtu.be/i5_asj1BGFs
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Jan 6, 2021 09:19:10   #
Flytier wrote:
Had a beagle, and he was a PISTOL


On a need to know; Roger Miller said it best with: "If my pappy was a pistol. I'm a son of a gun".
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Jan 1, 2021 09:39:02   #
ghaynes1 wrote:
5 am. Why am I up at this ridiculous hour? Who knows? Last day of work this week. I need a break. Get up knuckleheads and ding dongs. 56 today with some sun. Rain tomorrow.

"I was married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury." - Groucho Marx.

Last day of 2020. Tough year for many. Did it bring out the best in us as people? Our worst? Do we care about anyone but us and what we want? You guys decide. Have a good one clones. Good luck in 2021.

Good health and happiness to all FS members in 2021.
5 am. Why am I up at this ridiculous hour? Who kno... (show quote)


"Paying alimony is like feeding hay to a dead horse." - Groucho Marx
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Dec 19, 2020 10:54:35   #
ripogenu wrote:
just out of curiosity what is the correct hand? ( in your humble opinion of course)


On a need to know (if you don't already), if you travel to distant lands, NEVER shake hands usin' your left hand. You just might not get it back.
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Dec 18, 2020 10:41:12   #
Flytier wrote:
Positive thoughts make breakfast work better.


So does a good strong cuppa coffee. Makes my breakfast move right along.
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Dec 17, 2020 10:29:32   #
dbed wrote:
Missed the best "party" car lay down bucket seats in my 1969 Javelin
Friends always wanted to borrow it


dbed: Your 1969 Javelin was not the first vehicle with the "drive-in movie" lay-down seats. None of the parents of the little girls I used to date would let me take their daughters out in my butt-ugly '63? (CRS) Rambler.
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Dec 17, 2020 10:23:16   #
ijoecallot wrote:
A few years ago I was hauling ass on my motorcycle on a lonely, long road in Arizona I got pulled over by a State Trooper. He asked my name. I told him Scott. Just Scott, you have a last name? No sir, just Scott. I lost my last name. He was in a good mood and decided to humor me. What happened to your last name? Ok, it is a long story so stay with me.

I was born Scott Johnson. I studied hard, got good grades and decided to become a doctor. Went college and got my degree and became Scott Johnson MD. I became bored being a doctor and became a dentist, so I was Scott Johnson MD DDS. Dentistry was not my real calling so I fooled around with my Asst. and got VD.

So now I was Scott Johnson MD DDS with VD. Well, the ADA found out about the VD and took away my license. Now I was Scott Johnson MD with VD. The AMA learned about the ADA, so they took away my license also, so then I became Scott Johnson with VD.

Then the VD took away my Johnson, So now I am just Scott.
A few years ago I was hauling ass on my motorcycle... (show quote)


If Scott was a Scot maybe he coulda "hooked up" with Bobbitt, and got his Johnson back. Just sayin'... (thanks RJS)
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Dec 16, 2020 22:53:30   #
BadFisherman wrote:
The magic of Southern speech is in the similes and metaphors and other allusions.

As country as Corn Flakes.
As slick as cat’s poop on linoleum.
As welcome as an outhouse breeze.
Knee deep and sinking fast.
Barefooted as a yard dog.
Better than a sharp stick in the eye.
Bleeding like a stuck pig.
Bowed up like a Banty rooster.
Brave as a bigamist.
Brave as the first man to eat an oyster.
Brave enough to eat in the boomtown saloon.
By the skin of my teeth.
Clean as a hound’s tooth.
Cooler than the other side of the pillow.
Country as a baked bean sandwich!
Dark as a sack of black cats.
Dark as the inside of a cow.
Deaf in one ear and can’t hear out of the other.
Even a blind man on a galloping horse could see it.
Flashy as a rat with a gold tooth.
Flatter than a fritter.
Forty going north.
Going at it like killing snakes.
Good enough for state work.
Green as a gourd.
Grinning like a possum eating a sweet potato.
He ain’t sawing logs, he’s clearing brush.
He looked like a pig on ice.
He talks like he’s got a mouthful of mush.
He thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread.
He thinks the sun come up just to hear him crow.
He was so fat it was easier to go over top of him than around him.
He was the turd in the punchbowl.
He’s so deaf, he can’t hear himself fart.
He’s so scared you couldn’t drive a wet watermelon seed up his butt with a sledge hammer.
He’s so thin-­skinned, it’s just barely enough to keep him from bleeding to death.
He’s scratched up worse than a blind berry picker.
He’s so country he thinks a seven-­course meal is a possum and a six-­pack.
Heavy as a boarding­house dumpling.
I bought it for a song and you can sing it yourself.
I don’t know her from Adam’s house­cat.
I was never like this until I was born.
I was stuck hub deep to a Ferris wheel.
I’m just hanging out like a hair in a biscuit.
I’m out like a fat kid in dodge­ball.
I’m prouder of that than a pup with his first flea.
It was hanging open like a pea-­coat sleeve.
It’s a right far piece from here.
It’s plain as a pig on a sofa.
It’s quieter than a mouse peeing on cotton.
It’s more than I can say grace over.
Just a hop skip and a jump.
Knee high to a grasshopper.
Like a garlic milkshake...smooth & strong.
Like a polecat at a camp meeting.
Like a popcorn fart in Hell.
Like a rooster in an empty hen­house.
Like a rubber nosed woodpecker in a petrified forest.
Long as a month of Sundays.
Looks like Hell with everyone out to lunch.
More fun than a sack full of kittens.
More than one way to skin a cat.
No higher than corn and no lower than taters.
Now we’re cookin’ with gas!
Over yonder at the edge of nothing.
Pert near, but not plumb.
Rough as a cob.
Rougher than a pulp wood truck in a cotton patch.
Scarce as a hen’s teeth.
Scarce as deviled eggs after a church picnic.
Scattered from Hell to breakfast.
From here to East Jesus.
Screamed like a mashed cat.
Sharper than a mother-­in-­law’s tongue.
She didn’t say “pea turkey squat.”
She was so tall she could hunt geese with a rake.
She’s so deaf, she can’t hear a fart in a jug.
Slapped him like a red­headed stepchild.
Slick as an eel.
Slick as snot on a goat’s glass eye.
Slicker than a chased greased hog.
Slicker than deer guts on a door knob.
Slicker than otter snot.
Slicker than snot and smashed bananas.
Smaller than a tick turd.
Smiling like a goat in a briar­-patch.
Smoother than a hairy chest on wax day.
So deep in jail he’ll have to be fed beans with a sling­shot!
So sore can’t touch it with a powder puff.
Sober as a judge.
Squirming like a worm in hot ashes.
Stout as a mule.
Strong as bear’s breath.
Stuck so badly I needed a four wheel drive helicopter to pull my truck out.
Tail up and stinger out.
Tender as a judge’s heart.
That is just the cat’s pajamas.
That kid ain’t knee­-high to a duck.
The personality of a dishrag.
There were so many people, you couldn’t stir ’em with a stick.
They could worry the horns off a billy goat.
They live so far out they have to pipe in sunshine.
They lived so far out in the country that the sun set between their house and town.
Thick as flies on a dog’s back.
Thicker than fiddlers in Hell.
Weak as dishwater.
We’re closer than two roaches on a bacon bit.
Whiter than a hound dog’s tooth.
Wound tighter than a three-day clock.
Written on the heel.
You can’t sling a cat without hitting one.
The magic of Southern speech is in the similes and... (show quote)


thet rube is so dumb he couldn't pour piss out of a boot even if the directions were written on the heel
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Dec 16, 2020 22:33:01   #
Graywulff wrote:
An useless as tits on a boar hawg!


kinder sorter like puttin' lipstick on a pig
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Dec 16, 2020 22:25:38   #
Blackdog wrote:
Yer Bout as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit.
Kinda like herdin' cats


An' slowern' molasses in January
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Dec 16, 2020 22:21:44   #
mrenzella wrote:
" he lies so much, he has to hire someone to call his dog"


Thet dawg won't hunt
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