Your analyst is in on it.
I keep my shaving equipment under lock and key.
Your analyst is in on it.
I keep my shaving equipment under lock and key.
But she put these fucking kiwis in the fridge! Like I’ll eat them the older they are!
As long as it’s nowhere near me. I’m just not the hair scrapin’ type. I admit to being some type, just not that type. I’m actually a fan of Benguiat.
Holy shit! My analyst put kiwis in your fridge?
Your analyst has a life outside this office you know.
I love kiwis
Germinating some now.
How long have we been hating on kiwis ? Maybe we should hate something that @Foreigner likes ? 🫣
Haha jokes on you I don’t like anything.
As a Hillbilly Psychotherapist and personal advisor to Steven Segall, I feel like this thread has real undercurrents rooted in personal experience. Perhaps the @Foreigner does not like Kiwis, eh.
What does one charge hillbilly’s for psychotherapy?
Goats and Walnuts, Goats and Walnuts. Gensing and snake skins.
Hillbillys dont need psycotherapy. We are too stupid to be crazy.
Clearly, we’re twins by different mothers.
Why is it that the driver that hesitates for 30 seconds always makes it through the yellow light. The poor saps behind them have to stop. I feel this is a more important consideration than Any Kiwi
Heretic!
Or is it “heretic, there a tic, everywhere a tic tic
Ol’ Mr. @Foreigner had a Kiwi farm, e i e i oh” shit, he hates kiwis. It’s too early in the morning for this foolishness. Where’s my bong!
He was a bongoloid, he was a bongoloid
And he Had a dog
And he Had a wife
And he Brought home the bacon so no one would know…
He was a bongoloid , he was a bongoloid.
Holy shit! Hopefully I’m not past tense yet!
I’m not sure what it might look or actually be like, but I’m sure a bacon bong might be the best bong bacon can buy!
Okay, everyone sing…
“When the bong’s lit (and maybe me too),
When the bacon’s fried (and definitely me too),
When bong’s lit,
When the bacon fries,
These are a two of my favorite things…”
That’s just the way my friend used to sing it. Not a reference to you. Love and peace (and kiwis).
My friend was a classically trained opera singer. He was also a hoot sniffing crazy leader of a Southern rock band called the Back Creek Tribe. Hope you are still out there Mitch.