GRANDMOTHERS
GRANDMOTHERS: So soft spoken
Who is that in the picture? Tell us in the Comments
picture: dunno source, via our lol builder. lol caption: enkfail
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Wow, that is just nuts
sorry for the lame post, just wanted to rain on the first!11 crowd
Is that Yoko Ono behind her?
Be my be my be my Yoko Ono…
Whoa, whooooooooaaaaaaaa.
Eiiiiiyiyiyiyiyieeee!
You forgot to preface that with “As Yoko sings like…”
You can follow where-ev-er I go……..
Don’t blame it on Yoki!
I……I…….*kicks dirt with toe, looks down, blushes* I…….I think I love you all.
-
*turns to reveal an ‘I Love The Barenaked Ladies’ tee shirt she’s wearing*
*presents left arm she would give to go see them*
*points to her own name as proof of her own love for the Ladies*
You know… if I had a million dollars….
I’d buy you a green dress (but not a real green dress, that’s cruel).
I do love that song.. back in my college days, I used to go out on th
weekend to party leaving that song in loop on my pc playing at baout
80 decibels. On wacky weird weekends, Id have Blink 182’s
“F*ck a Dog” playing… ah… good times.
*looks at old ticket stub from Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavillion*
*smirks*
*mutters* Stupid rho thinking she’s so great…
*drools on Rho’s ticket*
*collects Max’s drool for evil botanical
experimentation*
Egads! My precious DNA!
Bwhahahaha!
*steals DNA and replaces it with Uncle Fester’s since he just leaves it laying around*
Class. You’re doing it wrong!
But it is so awesome though…
yeah it is, our generation isn’t classy, why expect previous ones to be?
Are you saying I have no class!??!
… withholding teasing and dirty commentary…
Sorry charro. I think perhaps I can justify a statement such as “none of the PK regulars have class” because all the regulars have discussed politics, and you should know classy folks never talk about politics, religion, sex, or money.
Well cat crap.
Pffft, who needs class, babe. We has style… ; )
and all the fun conversations, none of this “how’s the weather?” crap
Precisely.
All right, I accept the clarification.
In bed…
with a penis
And ginger!
While the camera rolls.
And the thunder too.
Okay, I think I’ve shared this story before, but it was awhile ago and I think it fits here. When I was still in college, maybe 8 years ago now, my grandfather was very sick and eventuall died. For about two weeks before his death he was in the hospitial and my very large family (dad is one of nine kids) were coming into town to say goodbye and my grandmother pretty much stayed in the hospital room 24/7. One day me, my two brothers, my parents, my aunt, and some of my cousins were sitting in the room when out of nowhere my grandmother turns to me and says, “You know Alyssa, I was reading an article in Glamour magazine the other day about female masturbation, do you know anything about that?” I was like, “…” Luckily, my dad saved me on that one, I don’t remember what he said but it saved me from having to answer.
Awwww, no share time with Nana? *chuckles* Ya, I would have gone pale if I had been asked about anything of the sort.
I think it was a combo of WHO was saying it along with WHEN it was being said. I guess she was just sick of the silence, and it certainly broke some of the tension. Another time this same grandmother was in the car with my mom and me and we were driving back from the bookstore and out of the blue she’s all like, “I like romance novels but I don’t understand why they go on and on about breasts. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked sex, but all this rubbing on the breasts doesn’t do anything for me.” I was in the back seat thinking, “oh for the love of god, please stop!” I might add that the women is like 86 years old.
Oddly enough, I might have been able to shake out of my shock and just talked it out with her. I, however, am what we call, “different” which I am told is code for f*cked up.”
Lord knows that I will be a strange grandparent, assuming I make it past sixty.
Well, if it had been my other grandmother, who I’m fairly close to, I might have been able to as well. This grandmother and I don’t usually get along due to her tendency to tell me about everything I’m doing wrong in life, ranging from innocent topics like not rinsing out my teacups to thank god you got a driver’s license, I was worried you were going to become like Aunt Helen and we all know what happened to her. You get the idea.
Ah, gotcha. Well, she can f*ck right off then.
Just think, if you’d told her, six months later she’d be showing you clippings from Cosmo and Forum ans telling you that y’all doing it wrong… how could you NOT mention the ‘Alien’ style vibrators?
*shudders* I’ve no doubt.
“Alien style”… WTF Unc!? Get out of my nightstand drawer!
Giger should NEVER go there… *shudder*
I lived in Amsterdam… I’ve seen things that would make Giger nighttmare,a dn Tom of Finland say it was infeasibly large…
Well then…
I think it is sort of cool that she feels confident enough to comment, and that she likes you- better than my 94 yr. old GM who calls each and everyone of her grandchildren “hag”, “bitch”, and “asshole”, depending on what each has done to piss her off that day—after being the primary target of this bx for 20 yr now, I am suddenly the blessed grandchild and all others are on the outs- they wonder what happened- I just smile and think..hmmm…nothing- she just started in on all of you like she’s been going at me and my bro for years—and deal with it, she is old, she is alone and lonely, so do my best to be kind when I am in the neighborhood (which is only about every 4 yr, which helps me deal I guess). Just a thought- your GM sounds kind of whacky, but cool.
Cartoonist Mary Fleener has a funny story about when she got published in a naughty mag called, “T1ts and Cl1ts”. She wanted to call her mother and give her the good news that she was actually published, but she hemmed and hawed over the title of the publication:
Her Mom [on the phone]: What? Cliques? Like stuck up people?
Her: No, cl1ts, like a cl1toris.
Her Mom: Oh! That’s pronounced CL1T-or-is.
Her: Are you sure? I thought it was pronounced cl1t-TOR-is.
[thinks: I cannot BE-LEEEVE I am having this conversation with my MOTHER!!]
@Jane: I wish you had said, “No more than you do, Grams!”
I know… I hate to admit it. I like the sly smile.
Ya, grandmothers who swear always make me laugh.
On that note: My Papa was hilarious. He’d cuss all the time and do really random things. We went to a fast food restaurant one day (one of those that had one guy screaming into a mic to the minions in the back) and he grabbed the mic and screamed ‘get this damn stuff right back there’.
Good times. Miss the guy.
LOL, awesome
My dad paid for something with a $100 bill. The lady used a
marker to check the bill. When she gave him his change, he
grabbed her marker and checked the bills she gave him.
She and I both cracked up laughing. Gotta love Dads!
My grandmother was never one to swear, although she did share recently the attraction, as a schoolgirl growing up in Government House in Bombay, the joys of secretly acquiring “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” to see what the fuss was about – and she whispered the f-bomb, sotto voce.
Still hard as nails mentally to the end, and pretty damn fit – all things considered. She wrote off her first heart-attack to a hot curry giving her heartburn and went to bed. Woke up the next morning with an aching shoulder, still assuming she overdid the Mrs Fernandez chilli paste. Phoned a friend who immediately freaked and dialled for an ambulance. The best part, she told me later, was when the ambulance pulled up. The paramedic jumped out, saw two old ladies leaning on the brick fence. When asked to be taken to the heart-attack victim, she took a long drag on her cigarette, stared at him and said “Son, I think that’s me.”
Great story! She was a wonderful gal, I’ll bet.
I was impressed and amused.
She was the stuff of legend. One year now since she waltzed off this ole sphere. Some people you miss, some you make up for. Ones like these leave bloody big craters when they go.
Imagine a black female Morgan Freemen – dignity and gravitas in megaton qualities. Fortunate am I to be her grandson, honoured am I to be called ‘friend’ by one such as she.
So, the killing of women, children, pregnant women, etc isn’t as offensive as dropping an f-bomb the whole subject of war?
Right. See? Now you’re getting it!
Or Janet Jackson’s boob…
Yeah, and it wasn’t even all that ugly
I didn’t even see it but I learned to hate my fellow man more and more afterward. War, famine, pestilence, bigotry, but say one naughty word or have a boobie show up and we lose our ability to hold our bladders.
Or at least the majority. I hold my bladder just fine.
Again with the capitalization fail…
Is there a -contest- or something???
rhorho,
No can say, no do care. Still a good caption!
C’mon… there are some people out there, like me, who have waves of physical pain, emotional boilovers and general allergic reactions to these things. One more on the list of books-to-read-before-you-die… Lynn Truss wrote a cracker called “Eats, Shoots & Leaves.” The first two chapters will tell you ALL you need to know.
We cannot help ourselves…
I’m a panda, look it up.
*Looks warily to see if the panda knows how to safety a pistol*
Say-fff-tee? I’m sorry you adorable little ragamuffin, Panda is not familiar with this term.
We have a descriptor for certain types of lads. We call ‘em wombats. Same thing with the significant comma. A wombat eats, roots and leaves.
*Sighs for the want of a slightly more charming country*
*giggles and falls out of chair*
Aren’t those called “football hooligans” elsewhere?
Based on the word, itself, I would think Ireland.
Mmmm… not many wombats in Irelans, as far as I know. I have no idea if wombats feature in zoos outside of Australia, anyway. They’re basically a hairy boulder.
Ireland. D! *d’uh*
And in truth, hooligan may come from a corruption of an Irish name but the word came into use in London in the late 1800s.
Anyway, I omitted an element with the football hooligan. He eats, roots, boots and leaves.
*moves Lynne Truss’s book to top of Amazon Wish List*
Holy crap.. It’s 2009
*marvels at charro’s uncanny perception*
I’m good at pointing out the obvious.
In bed…
Look! A penis!
That’s awfully impolite – I hardly know thee and thou callest me the strangest things…
Wow- the years have been harsh on Jane Fonda!!!
LOL, nice…
Yeah that was good.
I guess makeup DOES make a difference…
That B*tch isn’t dead yet ?
Correct me if I’m mistaken, but isn’t this a repost?
The picture is, the caption is new. I think the picture first made the front page way back this spring. Or summer.
Not that I come here very much. *whistles*
Oh yeah. That’s what I meant, sorry.
You go girl! Speak truth to power: You’ve earned it!
GOD WATCHES YOU JACK OFF!!!
So… unplug your guitar with care? Remove your car’s tyre with reverence? Bended knee for lawn-bowls is a given…
OMG, OMG! Tell me you didn’t really just go there!
I’m just thinking of everyday situations where jacks are used: there are probably more, but electric guitars, car-jacks and the little white ball in bowls were the first thing that came to mind. I wasn’t looking for euphemisms. I mean, “remove your car’s tyre” as a euphemism for masturbation would be making one heck of a big statement… (possibly beyond the combined efforts of DWN and Unc, which would hardly be edifying as it stands…)
I’m not quite certain what FRUKUZ’s statement was a propos of, exactly,
There is also that to jack something is to steal it.
Thank you for the explanation, but the winky-face was supposed to
let you know that I wasn’t being serious. If you say “Jack and the
Beanstalk,” it sounds pretty vile, and I don’t even want to consider
what “Jack of all trades” could mean…
Jack the Ripper?
Jack Ass?
Jackrabbit?
And so we’ve come full circle…
And this is insight into Jane’s fantasies…
One-eyed Jack?
Yeah, he’s kind of a perv that way.
As long as he cuts out the heavy breathing we dont mind the audience do we love?
Hey, if that’s what God likes, who are we to judge?
Well we definately are NOT without sin. So we should put our stones down.
Or get your rocks off, your choice.
Thats not much a choice really….
Some of you probably already know this, but in Ecclesiastes 3 where it talks of gathering stones together, some scholars suggest this phrase is a euphemism for sex.
Also, the Hebrew word “regilim” or “regelim” not sure how it is transliterated, is the word for feet. It is also a euphemism for genitals. So when Ruth goes to Boaz and lies down next to him “uncovering his feet” the text is suggesting there may have been some hanky-panky on the treshing room floor.
Hanky Panky on the Treshing Room Floor would be a great name for a rock band.
Ecclesiastes 3:5 – “… A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them…”
Ummm… a time for tossing and a time for hanky-panky? Well, maybe.
God willing I live long enough, this is exactly the sort of no-bullsh1t, don’t-f*ck-with-me queen bee I want to age into.
Ditto!
if i finally go through with my sex change —— ditto
Viva la deferens!
Was funnier the first time it ran.
omg I’m so adopting her as my grandma
isn’t this Tom Morello’s mom?
She’s seen enough wars to know.
I think Grannies should rule the world.
Seconded. With chocolate chip cookies ending world hunger, and their scolding, but kind talks keeping crime in check, we will finally have a utopia.
Or hell…
Aw, she reminds me of my grandma! This Thanksgiving she gave me a roll of political posters and one of them was of Che Guevara, I kid you not.
Ah…. when hippies get freaky old and uglier than ever.
Well, it is the opinion I’d expect someone with dementia to have.
I agree with you grand ma, fuck war