most men can't ever tell what a woman really wants, perhaps it's something like a guy that ain't in love with himself, or maybe simply one sharp enough not chop his own head off......

misterwiggly

what? got problems waiting for the seventy-virgins there ankit?

misterwiggly

ps - nice first post, btw

Perhaps the courtesy should have come "before" the handcuffs.......

misterwiggly

isn't that when you take her clothes off, then she does the same for you???

misterwiggly

This thread appears to have taken a rather licentious turn......

misterwiggly

bet it was a lecherous conference call......

misterwiggly

touche mon ami......

Tell the little one happy birthday for me at the party saturday, she's a real sweetie, like her auntie.....

misterwiggly

arrrgggg.....

should we just call ya "ole one-eye" now?

or perhaps just spread gossip about you circling like a buzzard......


misterwiggly chooses "weird"



ps - he loves weird

It's just a standard fallacy of equivocation: the statement that "energy cannot be destroyed" only applies to the physical definition of "energy", not the colloquial use that refers to a person's enthusiasm or motivation.

misterwiggly

This is the Science and Philosophy forum ain't it but yet no-one here has ever read or apparently heard of "The Hundredth Monkey: And Other Paradigms of the Paranormal", published by the Committee for the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the Paranormal (CSICOP). Among the contributors are Carl Sagan, Isaac Asimov, Paul Kurtz, Martin Gardner, and Philip J. Klass.

The book is divided into ten sections covering such topics as alien abduction and hypnosis, past life and hypnotic regression, miracles, firewalking, spontaneous human combustion, graphology, chiropractic, astrology, cold fusion, and crashed saucer claims.

Essays on the human need to believe, ways to encourage critical thinking, and how to evaluate anomalous experiences are especially helpful in arguing the case for a skeptical approach to life.

"The Hundredth Monkey" takes its title from philosopher Ron Amundson's expose of the "Hundredth Monkey Phenomenon", a claim about "collective consciousness" which appears to be the primary topic here.

YMMV, but I was referring to the OP as one whom appears to be listening to too much C to C radio.....

example:


Not certain exactly what country she is from, but thankfully here in the USA we don't live in a "democracy" it's a REPUBLIC....... ya know like,

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the REPUBLIC for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

and all this master, servant horse manure, sounds like someone's chesse has slid off their cracker to me.

Excuse me for saying so...

misterwiggly

let me welcome you to my reality folks, where I say:

Poppycock, all this collective consciousness BS is and has been based on the 100th Monkey theroy proffered by the likes of Dr. Wayne Dyer, which was entirely misrepresented to the gullible public according to the very Japanese scientist's notes and data that conducted the study.

Don't believe everything ya hear on Coast to Coast radio.....

misterwiggly

Thank you for the kind words, you are most welcome.

misterwiggly

is this a dating forum or a day-care for adult children forum?

The best advice I can give, (obviously being completely in the dark as to the situation) is to sraighten up and fly right.

Begin by buying yourself a copy of Dr. Eric Burn's book called "The Games People Play" and follow it up with "Ten Stupid Things Women Do to Mess Up Their Lives" by Dr. Laura and you'll learn to put away the childishness and begin to live life without game playing and communicate as adults should.....

One should also bear in mind that sometimes free advice, especially from the internet, is worth exactly what ya paid for it.....

misterwiggly

ps - sincerely hope this helps and that you are not really a talented typing ankle-biter that can afford a paperback or two....

auxiliary verb abuse....., Language Police took this sexy gal into custody and strip-searched her 3 times looking for hidden prepositions.....

misterwiggly

Here's an idea..., (a very old idea given to me by my uncle back in the mid-late 80's; which I modified to fit my hometown at the time, that circulated the net - perhaps new to some here - some may have seen this posted by me on another site recently)

For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone!!! Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you DON'T know!!!

Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?"

Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her.

She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again.

When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're a jackass!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "jackass," and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a jackass!" It would always cheer me up.

Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me, I would have to stop calling the jackass. Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name. "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?"

He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're a jackass!"

The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it.

Just dial 823-4863.

The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking pace. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. Great, I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black Camero came flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space.

I started honking my horn and yelling, "You can't just do that, Buddy. I was here first!" The guy climbed out of his Camero completely ignoring me. He walked toward the mall as if he didn't even hear me.

I thought to myself, this guy's a jackass, there sure are a lot of jackasses in this world. I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park.

A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're a jackass!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camero lying on my desk and thought I'd better call this guy, too.

After a couple rings someone answered the phone and said, "Hello." I said, "Is this the man with the black Camero for sale?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front."

I said, "What's your name?"

"My name is Don Hansen."

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home in the evenings."

"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes,"

"Don, you're a jackass!" And I slammed the phone down.

After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer. For a while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two jackasses to call. Then, after several months of calling the jackasses and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution:

First, I had my phone dial Jackass #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello."

I yelled "You're a jackass!", but I didn't hang up.

The jackass said, "Are you still there?"

I said, "Yeah."

He said, "Stop calling me."

I said, "No."

He said, "What's your name, Pal?"

I said, "Don Hansen."

He said "Where do you live?"

"1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camero's parked out front."

"I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers."

"Yeah, like I'm really scared, Jackass!" and I hung up.

Then I called Jackass #2. He answered, "Hello."

I said, "Hello, Jackass!"

He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll kick your ***."

"Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now Jackass!" And I hung up.

Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home.

Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W. 34th Street. After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing.

Glorious!

Watching two Jackasses kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a police helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of my life!





misterwiggly

ps: pleaseee HELP me...... I'm and I just can't stop// CALL 1-800-IM-HYSTErical

Funny story - my uncle wakes up one night and traps a "rat" (we're talking 3 pounder here) in the guest bedroom at his house, so he grabs the Colt 45 sixgun which resides under my aunts pillow which is loaded with rat-shot.

Six times he hits this rat with the 45LC rat-shot (as he his quite expert with any firearm) but the rat doesn't die, but instead is now bleeding ALL OVER THE BEDROOM lookin desperately for an exit....

Well uncle decides enough is enough and runs back to the guncabinet and loads the sixgun up with live 250grn LC rounds..... he blew 2 four and one-half inch holes in the baseboards of the bedroom and spent almost 800 bucks having the room repaired and getting all the blood clean'd outta the bedspread, curtains and off the walls.....

Vermin beware: you'll get no sympathy at my uncles house.

true story - my aunt actually tossed that sixgun in grandpaws pond a few months later while my uncle was teaching me to fan it and shoot coke cans in the air; as she'd never shot it before.... when she did, the recoil cause it to smack her right between the eyes, (which of course had us laughing so hard I spotted) - took me a half hour to fish it out....

misterwiggly

new face checking in here, and don't worry phuque, the doc said that with a few more operations and some physical therapy misterwiggly will be as good as new - but he suggested I make ya Sweet & Sour Pork next time instead of the mudbugtoufee......

misterwiggly

ps - you are so bad in such a good way....