I'm speechless. Check out the "ten things girls should know about boys and their vile private parts" It's hilarious! God. I hope this site isn't for real.
http://www.ironhymen.com/
http://www.ironhymen.com/
The Iron Hymen
- Thread starter Twila
- Start date
Ya wanna hear my Southey stories? They are pretty damned dull, but two of them end by rolling a car in the ditch.
Sure lets hear them...I drank two extra grande extra foamy latties tonight so I will be up for awhile 
Okay...the first Southey story:
I was sixteen, maybe seventeen. Southey girls had a reputation for the being being loose, and I had purple Ford and a fake bar card. I also had an invite from a rather unsophisticated young man who had run out of gas on the side of the highway. He'd said he was having a party and told me where he lived. I'm sure he'll never let the gauge go below a quarter of a tank again.
Anyway, me and some buddies piled into my Ford and headed north. I didn't just have a normal Ford...or actually it was, but if I wouldn't have wrecked the f***er it would be special today. It was a 1967 Comet Caliente with a high performance 289 and a Holley 4bbl the size of a man's head. I had big fat tires on the back and had stolen a couple of speakers from the drive-in to make the stereo work. That car was so cool that only 50% of the people I know had one just like it. The other half had something better.
Anyway, me and my buddies...Sporty Gordie, L'il Al and Daryl...stopped at the off-sale at the 777's and bought 2 (two) or three (3) dozen beer and headed for Southey.
Just north of Regina a man named Mike Kuntz used to have a garage. That's where the RCMP were sitting. They gave me a ticket for driving 80 miles an hour and took away all of the beer that wasn't jammed under the seat. They never found the pot in Al's pocket though, and they never noticed the whack of bennies jammed in my pocket.
So I stuffed the paperwork in my pocket and thanked the cop and headed back out on the highway. Sporty Gordie handed me another beer and I handed him some bennies and I demonstrated my eerie ablilty to roll a joint while driving really fast and drinking beer and all was good.
Then we pulled into Southey. It was kind of strange. Southey is slow even for a small town in Saskatchewan. I idled up to the hotel though. I went in and bought some beer to replace what the cop had taken.
The bar was empty. Small town Saskatchewan on a Saturday night and nobody in the bar. A little odd. The guy behind the bar never asked for ID. Really odd. Everybody always asked for ID in small towns, that's why I had a fake one. You might get asked in Regina or not, but if you were coming home from the farm with a throat full of grain dust they always asked. Not in Southey though, apparently.
So I walked back out the car with two twelves of Canadian and one of Golden and we headed to the party. It was at a big white house on the edge of town...two stories, veranda thing...nice place.
We wandered in. There were about twenty people there. A little Waylon Jennings coming out of the stereo, but not too loud. Nobody seemed to have any booze. The smell of pot was absent from the air and nobody even seemed to smoke cigarettes. It was really weird. The locals were looking a little hostile, but I located the guy who invited me and he said we were cool.
So we could have just sat there feeling vaguely out of place, but that wasn't our way. They had a pool table. I won a girl there somehow. I'm not sure how it worked...I was shooting for a buck a game and suddenly I had somebody's sister or something like that. I don't think they realized the implications of that, or that there were were people who would have taken full advantage of it. They thought it was a joke, gambling away a person.
Anyway, I had gained a chick. Her name was Heather...funny how I remember that. I don't think anybody ever introduced us, I think I just picked it up from the the conversation.
So I gave Heather a couple of bennies and some beer and she smoked some dope. I never really thought about it, we were just being polite and sharing, but it was likely the first time that Heather had more than a glass of wine with supper and we loaded her up like she'd been practising for as long we had.
Eventually she whispered something obscene in my ear, which was really why I'd come to Southey in the first place, so I managed to lose at pool and make a sneaky exit.
We climbed into her car, a newish Toyota her parents had likely bought her. She said she knew a place and got us out of town okay. I was sitting there in the passenger seat sipping my beer when she gave me an erstwhile glance. I knew I was about to have some fun and all the stories about Southey girls were true. Then we were upside down in the ditch.
So I dragged her out of the car, made sure there were no bottles around and we walked back to town. It took a little bit of explaining to get the locals to understand that they shouldn't call the cops until morning, but we managed to get it through to them in the end. I did some brutally ineffective comforting of Heather and then pawned her off on a friend or a cousin or something.
So we all got back into my Ford and left. On the way home we were all recounting our evenings. Daryl and Sporty Gordy's has been even less succesful than mine. L'il Al had a compliant though...his tongue was tired. "She wouldn't get off," he said. He refused to explain exactly what he meant by that.
I was sixteen, maybe seventeen. Southey girls had a reputation for the being being loose, and I had purple Ford and a fake bar card. I also had an invite from a rather unsophisticated young man who had run out of gas on the side of the highway. He'd said he was having a party and told me where he lived. I'm sure he'll never let the gauge go below a quarter of a tank again.
Anyway, me and some buddies piled into my Ford and headed north. I didn't just have a normal Ford...or actually it was, but if I wouldn't have wrecked the f***er it would be special today. It was a 1967 Comet Caliente with a high performance 289 and a Holley 4bbl the size of a man's head. I had big fat tires on the back and had stolen a couple of speakers from the drive-in to make the stereo work. That car was so cool that only 50% of the people I know had one just like it. The other half had something better.
Anyway, me and my buddies...Sporty Gordie, L'il Al and Daryl...stopped at the off-sale at the 777's and bought 2 (two) or three (3) dozen beer and headed for Southey.
Just north of Regina a man named Mike Kuntz used to have a garage. That's where the RCMP were sitting. They gave me a ticket for driving 80 miles an hour and took away all of the beer that wasn't jammed under the seat. They never found the pot in Al's pocket though, and they never noticed the whack of bennies jammed in my pocket.
So I stuffed the paperwork in my pocket and thanked the cop and headed back out on the highway. Sporty Gordie handed me another beer and I handed him some bennies and I demonstrated my eerie ablilty to roll a joint while driving really fast and drinking beer and all was good.
Then we pulled into Southey. It was kind of strange. Southey is slow even for a small town in Saskatchewan. I idled up to the hotel though. I went in and bought some beer to replace what the cop had taken.
The bar was empty. Small town Saskatchewan on a Saturday night and nobody in the bar. A little odd. The guy behind the bar never asked for ID. Really odd. Everybody always asked for ID in small towns, that's why I had a fake one. You might get asked in Regina or not, but if you were coming home from the farm with a throat full of grain dust they always asked. Not in Southey though, apparently.
So I walked back out the car with two twelves of Canadian and one of Golden and we headed to the party. It was at a big white house on the edge of town...two stories, veranda thing...nice place.
We wandered in. There were about twenty people there. A little Waylon Jennings coming out of the stereo, but not too loud. Nobody seemed to have any booze. The smell of pot was absent from the air and nobody even seemed to smoke cigarettes. It was really weird. The locals were looking a little hostile, but I located the guy who invited me and he said we were cool.
So we could have just sat there feeling vaguely out of place, but that wasn't our way. They had a pool table. I won a girl there somehow. I'm not sure how it worked...I was shooting for a buck a game and suddenly I had somebody's sister or something like that. I don't think they realized the implications of that, or that there were were people who would have taken full advantage of it. They thought it was a joke, gambling away a person.
Anyway, I had gained a chick. Her name was Heather...funny how I remember that. I don't think anybody ever introduced us, I think I just picked it up from the the conversation.
So I gave Heather a couple of bennies and some beer and she smoked some dope. I never really thought about it, we were just being polite and sharing, but it was likely the first time that Heather had more than a glass of wine with supper and we loaded her up like she'd been practising for as long we had.
Eventually she whispered something obscene in my ear, which was really why I'd come to Southey in the first place, so I managed to lose at pool and make a sneaky exit.
We climbed into her car, a newish Toyota her parents had likely bought her. She said she knew a place and got us out of town okay. I was sitting there in the passenger seat sipping my beer when she gave me an erstwhile glance. I knew I was about to have some fun and all the stories about Southey girls were true. Then we were upside down in the ditch.
So I dragged her out of the car, made sure there were no bottles around and we walked back to town. It took a little bit of explaining to get the locals to understand that they shouldn't call the cops until morning, but we managed to get it through to them in the end. I did some brutally ineffective comforting of Heather and then pawned her off on a friend or a cousin or something.
So we all got back into my Ford and left. On the way home we were all recounting our evenings. Daryl and Sporty Gordy's has been even less succesful than mine. L'il Al had a compliant though...his tongue was tired. "She wouldn't get off," he said. He refused to explain exactly what he meant by that.
nope. Never been to southey SK.
Lived in Langford though. I'm sure Pea can fill you in about Langford people. At least how it use to be before a house cost $300 thousand.
The land of primer black 4X4's and large dogs (not all of them human)
Somedays you could smell green everywhere....Langford Lake.....where you could drink and smoke and everybody was good people..........
Lived in Langford though. I'm sure Pea can fill you in about Langford people. At least how it use to be before a house cost $300 thousand.
The land of primer black 4X4's and large dogs (not all of them human)
Somedays you could smell green everywhere....Langford Lake.....where you could drink and smoke and everybody was good people..........
"which could break my vagina's freshness seal"
8O :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
This can't be for real, but ya gotta love that quote!
:lol: :lol: Love the Southy story, Rev. More?
8O :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
This can't be for real, but ya gotta love that quote!
:lol: :lol: Love the Southy story, Rev. More?
uh huh...well I certainly got a different impression of life on the priaire from who has seen the wind
There must a club or something of boys that take this kind of road trips. We use to get them coming into my home town occassionly, come from the other side of the mountain...down into our valley...looking for a good time...we were always happy to oblige. Like I remember a couple in particular from cumberland. Now it did not take long to figure out that their business was the monkey kind....so with a little encouragement (not much) they got themselves gooned...now we happen to be at sproat lake, its a very large lake...and ehm..there is very small island on it.....if you
can swim....well ehm...you can get back to shore. Well it did not take much to convince the troupe that drinking beer on this island in a lake would be lots of fun...yes it was fishing for bullheads...a tad to easy..but hey they were from cumberland.... Long story short well them boys jumped out the boat...looking for a nice bed or grass or a ditch perhaps...I think they figured it out when the motor started up and we waved :wave: Hey try parksville next time
*peapod I think we should have dumped them on a logging road*
ehm..well grasshopper there are critters out there, after all their only crime was they lousy tackle*
*other grasshoppers join in with suggestions*
*peapod claps hands loudly twice...
*grasshoppers, grasshoppers* our satisfaction comes from playing raven trickery on the raven himself, you see the ravens was so full of themselves, they did not realize the prized gems were just a opitical illusion. We can surmize that they our out of town vistors were compulsive fornicators, (sounds bad eh) come to take us for the proverbial ride. :roll:
* true peapod...a lesson with a wee bit of compassion*
grasshoppers please turn to page 13 of our book of fish...I think this describes our out of town vistors to a T.
*all grasshoppers reach into back pockets and pull out their book of fish...just flipping no clicking
"A slim young pike, with smart fins,
and grey-stripped suit, a young cub of a pike
Slouching along away below, half out of sight,
like a lout on an obscure pavement.... :lol:
*all grasshoppers agree a fitting description*
Our work is done grasshoppers let go into town and eat chinese....
*heavy sighs...chinese again???*
Well we only have chinese restaurants open at this time of night.
*chinese it is than*
exactly grasshopper soon you will be walking on rice paper like peapod....ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Creedance...crank it up......there's a bad moon on the rise 8)
peapod I would prefer you call me brother shamus..like a irish monk...its dude like*
No life my honest scholar, no life is so happy and so pleasureable as the life of a well governed angler
for when the lawyer is swallowed up with business, the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, than
we sit on cowsips banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietnes as these silent silver
steams, which glide so quietly by us..
*did you make that up peapod*
No brother shamus, Izaak Walton said it in the compleat angler 1676
*I see peapod...but the same applies today...nes pas??*
oui oui...grasshopper...ehm..I mean brother shamus
There must a club or something of boys that take this kind of road trips. We use to get them coming into my home town occassionly, come from the other side of the mountain...down into our valley...looking for a good time...we were always happy to oblige. Like I remember a couple in particular from cumberland. Now it did not take long to figure out that their business was the monkey kind....so with a little encouragement (not much) they got themselves gooned...now we happen to be at sproat lake, its a very large lake...and ehm..there is very small island on it.....if you
can swim....well ehm...you can get back to shore. Well it did not take much to convince the troupe that drinking beer on this island in a lake would be lots of fun...yes it was fishing for bullheads...a tad to easy..but hey they were from cumberland.... Long story short well them boys jumped out the boat...looking for a nice bed or grass or a ditch perhaps...I think they figured it out when the motor started up and we waved :wave: Hey try parksville next time
*peapod I think we should have dumped them on a logging road*
ehm..well grasshopper there are critters out there, after all their only crime was they lousy tackle*
*other grasshoppers join in with suggestions*
*peapod claps hands loudly twice...
*grasshoppers, grasshoppers* our satisfaction comes from playing raven trickery on the raven himself, you see the ravens was so full of themselves, they did not realize the prized gems were just a opitical illusion. We can surmize that they our out of town vistors were compulsive fornicators, (sounds bad eh) come to take us for the proverbial ride. :roll:
* true peapod...a lesson with a wee bit of compassion*
grasshoppers please turn to page 13 of our book of fish...I think this describes our out of town vistors to a T.
*all grasshoppers reach into back pockets and pull out their book of fish...just flipping no clicking
"A slim young pike, with smart fins,
and grey-stripped suit, a young cub of a pike
Slouching along away below, half out of sight,
like a lout on an obscure pavement.... :lol:
*all grasshoppers agree a fitting description*
Our work is done grasshoppers let go into town and eat chinese....
*heavy sighs...chinese again???*
Well we only have chinese restaurants open at this time of night.
*chinese it is than*
exactly grasshopper soon you will be walking on rice paper like peapod....ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Creedance...crank it up......there's a bad moon on the rise 8)
peapod I would prefer you call me brother shamus..like a irish monk...its dude like*
No life my honest scholar, no life is so happy and so pleasureable as the life of a well governed angler
for when the lawyer is swallowed up with business, the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, than
we sit on cowsips banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietnes as these silent silver
steams, which glide so quietly by us..
*did you make that up peapod*
No brother shamus, Izaak Walton said it in the compleat angler 1676
*I see peapod...but the same applies today...nes pas??*
oui oui...grasshopper...ehm..I mean brother shamus
Uh...they're called teenagers, Peapod. The hormones put our brains in neutral for a few years. Luckily, at least for teenaged boys, much the same thing happens to teenaged girls.
Well what I am saying rev is that regardless of hormones, some teenagers especially ones that fish..(My gang fished) were not giving it away to every tom dick and harry that came along, just cause everybody else was doing it..
No, but I did say that our brains are put in neutral by the hormones. Just because you weren't it away doen't mean that the boys hadn't convinced themselves that you were.
Do you think girls from Southey were really any more likely to have sex than girls from anywhere else? I doubt it, but that was the rumour.
Do you think girls from Southey were really any more likely to have sex than girls from anywhere else? I doubt it, but that was the rumour.
Nope...I am sure girls were having way more sex in Port Alberni than Southey, its a bigger town ...all I am really saying rev is you had your fun...and ehm...I had mine
...all I am really saying rev is you had your fun...and ehm...I had mine