h a l f b a k e r yA riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a rich, flaky crust
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Right now there is a pack of coyotes up on the mountain
behind my house, yipping, yelping, yowling, and terrorizing
small furry things that go "eep!" |
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If I open my window and listen to them, it will only be a
couple of minutes before I hear a fight break out.
Somebody will step on somebody else's tail and suddenly
the whole pack will be, if you'll pardon the expression,
going at it tooth and nail. The squabbling is quick and
bloody and no holds are barred, and then suddenly
everyone's differences are resolved and the whole lot of
them go right back to making everyone else miserable. |
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Yep. Kinda the point I'm making. |
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I'm disappointed. I thought we were all going to meet up
and have a literal pissing contest. |
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Write your name on the wall. It will be dry tomorrow. |
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Ur ine trouble now, mate. |
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Can the contestants be known as Bladdiators? |
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Most definitely, [2fries]. |
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if you lost, you'd be pissed off, right? |
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Yeah, but then we'd all fuck off up the pub and get pissed. |
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Yeah, strange that, seeing as how usually it's the
women that tend to clump together more. |
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Yeah, but we can't write our name in the snow... |
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Certain types of combat (such as brawling, arm wrestling,
and Call of Duty 3) are play activity for men, just as
some of our favorite sports (American football, hockey,
rugby) are combative in nature. We are a predator species,
and it's written in our DNA that we must establish and
defend our territories and hunt and kill our prey. For lesser
predators, playfighting is a learning activity employed by
the young to hone skills they will use as adults. Our species
has mostly outgrown the need to engage in combat on a
daily basis, but the instinct remains, and the playfighting
continues as an outlet for that aggressive instinct and as a
subtle means to establish circumstantial dominance. Even
when I embrace my closest male friends, the hug is sudden
and firm and we clap each other hard on the shoulder. It
serves to remind us, on the primal level, that we may be
emotionally bonded but we would still tear each other to
pieces if the need arose. |
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With respect, [Alter], you're supposed to piss up the wall,
not in our pockets. |
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Shirley urearen't taking me seriously. |
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Rule #5: Thou shalt not mix piss with vinegar. |
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Rule 2: you do NOT talk about Piss Club! |
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I don't think I'd want to talk about Piss Club. |
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[marked-for-deletion] call for a list. |
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//Yeah, but we can't write our name in the
snow...// |
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How about a dot-matrix urine snow-printer? It
would consist of a gyroscopic direction detector,
some processing power, and pair of silicone-
coated steel fingers. The device is attached to
the penis, with the steel fingers above and below
the organ. |
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The wearer would then simply wave it in a raster
pattern, and the fingers would automatically
clamp and unclamp rapidly to generate a perfect
image. |
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(T-shirt I'd like to commission) |
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...says the man whose nation prides itself on canoe sex
beer produced in massive quantities. |
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No, because it's fucking close to water. |
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It's not original; I got it from one of the Pythons. Michael
Palin, I think? Anyway, in my family 'canoe sex' has become
a catch-all
reference to megabrew American lager and all beer from
Mexico and Australia. |
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