Damn, I miss everything nowadays. Who was talking shiat about someone's mother?

GFY :p

Let me guess....FreddyMo and/or Benevolous.

Who's the leader of the club

That's made for you and me



S-E-C

K-E-Y

M-O-U-S-E!!




Hey! there, Hi! there, Ho! there
You're as welcome as can be


S-E-C


K-E-Y


M-O-U-S-E!!




Seckey Mouse!





Seckey Mouse!!




Seckey Mouse!





Seckey Mouse!!



Forever let us hold our banner
LOW!!LOW!!LOW!!LOW!!

Come along and sing a song
And join the jamboree!



S-E-C




K-E-Y





M-O-U-S-E!!!!!

I leave for awhile and you become a mouseketeer??????




















































THUD

!!!










Highly amusing ma'amage.

Ten pies for you:


OOOOOOOOOO









I wish you would clarify as to whether or not you are you know who.

Who am I supposed to be now?

The same youknowwho.




I'm disconsolate over the matter.

I think I missed something in a thread. Can you refer me to a page so I can catch up???

Hmmm....try this one:






http://www.femjoy.com/setdetails.php/111593_wee237

Ah. She's got roots. Not a true redhead.

Well no one's perfect.




Similar in general?

Yes.

























We're both female.:D

Morty, Uncly gives her regards and says she misses you. We went and looked at some studs today at Bridlewood.

thud

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)

The Fire of Drift-Wood
We sat within the farm-house old,
Whose windows, looking o'er the bay,
Gave to the sea-breeze damp and cold,
An easy entrance, night and day.

Not far away we saw the port,
The strange, old-fashioned, silent town,
The lighthouse, the dismantled fort,
The wooden houses, quaint and brown.

We sat and talked until the night,
Descending, filled the little room;
Our faces faded from the sight,
Our voices only broke the gloom.

We spake of many a vanished scene,
Of what we once had thought and said,
Of what had been, and might have been,
And who was changed, and who was dead;

And all that fills the hearts of friends,
When first they feel, with secret pain,
Their lives thenceforth have separate ends,
And never can be one again;

The first slight swerving of the heart,
That words are powerless to express,
And leave it still unsaid in part,
Or say it in too great excess.

The very tones in which we spake
Had something strange, I could but mark;
The leaves of memory seemed to make
A mournful rustling in the dark.

Oft died the words upon our lips,
As suddenly, from out the fire
Built of the wreck of stranded ships,
The flames would leap and then expire.

And, as their splendor flashed and failed,
We thought of wrecks upon the main,
Of ships dismasted, that were hailed
And sent no answer back again.

The windows, rattling in their frames,
The ocean, roaring up the beach,
The gusty blast, the bickering flames,
All mingled vaguely in our speech;

Until they made themselves a part
Of fancies floating through the brain,
The long-lost ventures of the heart,
That send no answers back again.

O flames that glowed! O hearts that yearned!
They were indeed too much akin,
The drift-wood fire without that burned,
The thoughts that burned and glowed within.

"For everything that's Lovely, is but a brief, dreamy, kind delight."
w.b. yeats











Boy...I don't know what happened there,but that link changed!!



I apologize....there is some awful stuff there...I take great pains to select quality smut.....I have no idea why the link changed the view.















Hopefully this one is safer:


http://www.jibjab.com/view/93015