allthumbs

Jeez, these friggin' liberals want everything handed to them on a silver platter. Do any of you wanks work for a living?

Doesn't matter. Like I said, I would do what my President asked me to do. BTW doofus, Nader & Gore are both too fucked up to be President.

I'd do what my President told me to do; regardless of who's in office.

Screw you Ryland; I'm a good soldier - I do what I'm told. Gum me nutz hoser!

I will follow the U.S. flag anywhere it flys, asshole. You know what they say, "Mine is not to question why...Mine is but to do or die." Call me whatever you want.

Why not buy a keg from TG? Everybody expecting free TG Stout now?

I'm sure he knows all about them, doofus.

I'll come watch and cheer for the underdog.

No shit. Ryland Moore - Another shamless, anti-American, Oregonian hippie.

All you Oregonians are a strange lot. Looks like liberalism runs rampant down there.

Our lager, Which art in barrels, Hallowed be thy drink. Thy will be drunk, (I will be drunk), At home as in the tavern. Give us this day our foamy head, And forgive us our spillages, As we forgive those who spill against us. And lead us not to incarceration, But deliver us from hangovers. For thine is the beer, The bitter and The lager. Forever and ever, Barmen

it was sketchy at best

Caveman, you are the Anti-Christ

Matt's right. As hunters, my friends and I are always courteous and forthright with landowners. Always ask permission first. I always bring the landowner a duck as a token of my appreciation. In fact, if it's a hot spot and we're allowed to hunt there all season, I buy the owner a bottle of Crown Royal. Works wonders.

Perhaps you're right Dru, but Allison might like pulling on the chickenheads.

Looks like anti-US sentiment. You a commie or something?

Thanks. Trying to lighten it up around here for a change.

I'll bet if you asked the landowner nicely, they'd let you through to gather intel or climb. I doubt they'd embrace the hoards though.

The following advice for American travelers going to France was compiled from information provided by the US State Department, the CIA, the US Chamber of Commerce, the Food and Drug Administration, the Centers for Disease Control and some very expensive spy satellites that the French don't know about. It is intended as a guide for American travelers only. General Overview: France is a medium-sized foreign country situated in the continent of. It is an important member of the world community, though not nearly as important as it thinks. It is bounded by Germany, Spain, Switzerland and some smaller nations of no particular importance and with not very good shopping. France is a very old country with many treasures, such as the Louvre and Euro-Disney. Among its contributions to western civilization are champagne,Camembert cheese and the guillotine. Although France likes to think of itself as a modern nation, air conditioning is little used and it is next to impossible for Americans to get decent Mexican food. One continuing exasperation for American visitors is that local people insist on speaking in French, though many will speak English if shouted at. Watch your money at all times. The People France has a population of 57 million people. 52 million of these drink and smoke (the other 5 million are small children). All French people drive like lunatics, are dangerously oversexed, and have no concept of standing patiently in a queue. The French people are in general gloomy, temperamental, proud, arrogant, aloof and undisciplined; those are their good points. Most French citizens are Roman Catholic, though you would hardly guess it from their behavior. Many people are communists. Men sometimes have girls' names like Marie or Michel, and they kiss each other when they meet. American travelers are advised to travel in groups and wear baseball caps and colorful trousers for easier recognition. Safety: In general, France is a safe destination, although travelers must be aware that from time to time it is invaded by Germany. Traditionally, the French surrender immediately and, apart from a temporary shortage of Scotch whiskey and increased difficulty in getting baseball scores and stock market prices, life for the American visitor generally goes on much as before. A tunnel connecting France to Britain beneath the English channel has been opened in recent years to make it easier for the French government to flee to London during future German invasions. History France was discovered by Charlemagne in the Dark Ages. Other important historical figures are Louis XIV, the Huguenots, Joan of Arc, Jacques Cousteau and Charles de Gaulle, who was President for many years and is now an airport. Government The French form of government is democratic but noisy. Elections are held more or less continuously and always result in a draw. The French love administration so for government purposes the country is divided into regions, departments, districts, municipalities, towns, communes, villages,cafés, and telephone kiosks. Each of these has its own government and elections. Parliament consists of two chambers, the Upper and Lower, though confusingly, they are both on the ground floor, and whose members are either Gaullists or Communists, neither of whom should be trusted by the traveler. Parliament's principal occupation is setting off atomic bombs in the south Pacific and acting indignant and surprised when other countries complain. According to the most current American state department intelligence, the President is now someone named Jacques. Further information is not available at this time. Culture The French pride themselves on their culture, though it is not easy to see why. All their music sounds the same and they have never made a movie that you would want to watch for anything but the nude scenes. Cuisine Let's face it, no matter how much garlic you put on it, a snail is just a slug with a shell on its back. Croissants on the other hand, are excellent, although it is impossible for most Americans to pronounce this word. In general, travelers are advised to stick to cheeseburgers. Economy France has a large and diversified economy, second only to Germany's in Europe, which is surprising because the French hardly work at all. If they are not spending four hours dawdling over lunch, they are on strike and blocking the roads with their trucks and tractors. France's principal exports, in order of importance to the economy, are wine, nuclear weapons, perfume, guided missiles, champagne, guns, grenade launchers, land mines, tanks, attack aircraft, miscellaneous armaments and cheese. Public Holidays: France has more holidays than any other nation in the world. Among its 361 national holidays are: 197 Saints' days, 37 National Liberation Days, 16 Declaration of Republic Days, 54 Return of Charles de Gaulle in triumph as if he won the war single-handed Days, 18 Napoleon sent into Exile Days,17 Napoleon Called Back from Exile Days, and 2 "France is Great and the Rest of the World is Rubbish" Days. Conclusion France enjoys a rich history, a picturesque and varied landscape, and a temperate climate. In short, it would be a very nice country if it was not inhabited by French people.

TLG has been feisty lately...she just needs some more of that trask love to mellow her ass out.

All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.

I call it good police work. Kudos to the intelligence community.

What's your point hippie?

My brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay’s kids’ stockings were overflowed, his poor panty hose hung sadly empty and grew increasingly threadbare. One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and a fake beard and went in search of an inflatable love doll. Of course, they don’t sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you’ve never been in an X-rated store, don’t go. You’ll only confuse yourself. I was there almost three hours saying things like, “What does this do?” “You’re kidding me!” “Who owns that?” “Do you have their phone number?” Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll suitable for a night of romance that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour. I’m not sure what a complicated doll is. Perhaps one that is subject to wild mood shifts and using a French accent for no reason at all. (That also describes a few ex-girlfriends.) Finding what I wanted was difficult. Anyway, love dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I’d only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I figured the “vibro-motion” was a feature Jay could live without, so I settled for Lovable Louise. She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a “doll” took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and cleverly left the front door key hidden under the mat. In the wee morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I snuck into the house and filled the dangling panty hose with Louise’s pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. Then I let myself out, went home, and giggled for a couple of hours. The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy, but had left the dog confused. He would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more. I suggested he purchase an inflatable Lassie to set Rover straight. We also agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner. It seemed like a great idea, except that we forgot that Grandma and Grandpa would be there. My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. “What the hell is that?” she asked. My brother quickly explained. “It’s a doll.” “Who would play with something like that?” Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. “Where are her clothes?” Granny continued. I hadn’t seen any in the box, but I kept this information to myself. “Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,” Jay said, trying to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless. “Why doesn’t she have any teeth?” Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying: “Hang on Granny, Hang on!” My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said:” Hey, who’s the naked gal by the fireplace?” I told him she was Jay’s friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantle, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. (It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa’s last Christmas at home.) The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The cat screamed, I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering “mouth to mouth” resuscitation. My brother wet his pants and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car. It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in my brother’s garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise’s collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health. Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies. I think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.

Old man lying by the side of the road With the lorries rolling by Blue moon sinking from the weight of the load And the buildings scrape the sky Cold wind ripping down the alley at dawn And the morning paper flies Dead man lying by the side of the road With the daylight in his eyes Don't let it bring you down It's only castles burning Find someone who's turning And you will come around