Ikeaboy: Hello, Kittengirl. What do you look like?

Kittengirl: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36C-24-36. What do you look like?

Ikeaboy: I'm 5'8" and about 190 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart. I'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner...it smells funny.

Kittengirl: I want you. Would you like to make love?

Ikeaboy: OK.

Kittengirl: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.

Ikeaboy: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.

Kittengirl: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.

Ikeaboy: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling.

Kittengirl: I'm moaning softly.

Ikeaboy: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.

Kittengirl: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.

Ikeaboy: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse. I'm sorry.

Kittengirl: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.

Ikeaboy: I'll pay for it.

Kittengirl: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breathe harder and harder.

Ikeaboy: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?

Kittengirl: I take your hand and kiss it softly. I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.

Ikeaboy: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.

Kittengirl: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.

Ikeaboy: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!

Kittengirl: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.

Ikeaboy: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.

Kittengirl: What?

Ikeaboy: I'm so sorry. Really.

Kittengirl: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.

Ikeaboy: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a soggy plop.

Kittengirl: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard tool.

Ikeaboy: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!

Kittengirl: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.

Ikeaboy: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you...umm... wait a minute.

Kittengirl: What's the matter?

Ikeaboy: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.

Kittengirl: Are you OK?

Ikeaboy: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.

Kittengirl: Can I help?

Ikeaboy: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?

Kittengirl: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.

Ikeaboy: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.<>

Kittengirl: Come back to me, lover.

Ikeaboy: I'm washing the cup now.

Kittengirl: I'm on the bed arching for you.

Ikeaboy: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?

Kittengirl: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.

Ikeaboy: I found it.

Kittengirl: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.

Ikeaboy: Me too.

Kittengirl: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-- our naked bodies pressing each other.

Ikeaboy: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.

Kittengirl: Why don't you take off your glasses?

Ikeaboy: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.

Kittengirl: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!

Ikeaboy: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.

Kittengirl: Hurry back, lover.

Ikeaboy: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.

Kittengirl: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.

Ikeaboy: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!

Kittengirl: What's the matter now?

Ikeaboy: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.

Kittengirl: Mmm, yes. Come on.

Ikeaboy: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know ...thing...in your...you know...woman's thing.

Kittengirl: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!

Ikeaboy: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.

Kittengirl: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!

Ikeaboy: I'm flaccid.

Kittengirl: What?

Ikeaboy: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.

Kittengirl: I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face

Ikeaboy: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner's all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.

Kittengirl: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.

Ikeaboy: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.

Kittengirl: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.

Ikeaboy: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of your candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.

Kittengirl: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!

Ikeaboy: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!

Kittengirl: logged off

This is just a few quotes from former NBA star Charles Barkley from last month's Stuff magazine. This guy is just a quote machine.

On retirement:

Quote:I'm just what America needs....another unemployed blackman.

Quote:I don't like any women sportscasters. I don't like women doing sports-it just bothers me. I have no reason it's just because they are women.

Quote:He must have pictures of his boss' wife having sex with a monkey for him to still have a job.

Quote:It must be the crack of Micheal's ass where Kenny's lips are firmly planted.

Quote:He played like a girl all last year, TV made him a superstar. Now he has to play like one and quit whining.

Quote:My intial response was to sue her for defamation of character, but then I realized that I have no character.

Quote:I told him I am gaining wieght and I could always lose it but he will always be ugly. I am not goping to jump him on TV because there'll be witnesses. If I beat him up, it's going to be in a dark alley somewhere.

Now, I don't mean those film noir movies that Ikea and 7 other people on the planet have seen. I mean movies that are actual Hollywood movies, but just weren't generally released or that many people haven't seen.

The reason I thought of this was that I saw a really cool movie last night on one the pay channels my descrabler gives to me for free. It was called The Last Supper and had some pretty well known people for an indie movie. Cameron Diaz, Jason Alexander, Bill Paxton, and a few others.

The premise was that these little commie pinko grad students have a stranger over to dinner every Sunday. The dinners turn into arguments, and so the "open minded" liberals decide that the world would be better of without some of the opinions of their dinner guests, so the five roommates decide to kill their guests.

It had some really funny parts, and some great one-liners. The deaths were just poinsonings so not any gore, but it was still pretty good.

A couple other movies that come to mind for me are Freshand Freeway (which isn't incredibly obscure, but I still love that fucking movie, and a TON of people haven't seen it)

**edit stole Maynard idea to link them to IMDB



Edited By Galt on Feb. 18 2002 at 12:31

But in the end, they're all winners.

Edit- so I'm a tool for the font thing. At least I'm in my PJs.



Edited By WhipThisFez on Feb. 18 2002 at 10:41

Quote:Burton wins three-lap dash



DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. -- Sterling Marlin should have stayed in the car and left the repairs to his crew.

The two-time Daytona 500 winner blew a chance Sunday to make it three, handing Ward Burton the biggest victory of his life.


Ward Burton took the checkered flag ahead of Elliott Sadler in one of the wildest Daytona 500s ever.

Following a late red flag, Burton won a three-lap dash to the finish line for his fourth career win in 251 starts.

"A lot of what happens here is atmosphere and luck," a jubilant Burton said. "We had some luck today."

Marlin, who received hate mail and death threats from people who blamed him for the crash that killed Dale Earnhardt at last year's Daytona 500, appeared to have the win wrapped up.

With six laps to go, Marlin had spun out leader Jeff Gordon as a pack of cars crashed behind them, then beat Burton back to the yellow flag by less than half a car-length, to grab the top spot.

NASCAR stopped the bizarre, crash-marred event to give the remaining leaders a chance to race for the win. With the cars halted on the backstretch, Marlin unbuckled his seat belts and climbed out of the silver No. 40 Dodge to check out the damage to his right front fender.

He started to pull the bent sheet metal away from the tire, but an official warned him to get back in his car. That little attempt to fix the damage was enough for NASCAR to penalize him for what it called an illegal pit stop, sending his car to the rear of the lead pack after the restart.

"I tried to get it pulled off, but NASCAR didn't like it, and they sent me to the rear," said Marlin, who wound up eighth.

Burton called the last three laps "nerve-racking."

"I didn't even look at the flag," he said. "I wasn't going to stop. When the other guys backed off, I backed off."

As Marlin drove slowly into the pits while the new leader took the green flag on lap 196 of 200, all the contenders behind Burton began to race two-by-two and even three-wide, letting the leader pull away. He crossed the finish line 0.193 seconds -- about three car-lengths -- ahead of Elliott Sadler's Ford.

"You got to be there at the end," Burton said, his voice shaking with emotion. "We were trying to be real careful. I didn't know if we were going to win it, but I knew we were going to have a hell of chance at it. We're ready to rock all year."

Former Daytona winner Geoff Bodine, making a comeback at 52, was a surprising third, followed by Kurt Busch, 2000 race winner Michael Waltrip, Mark Martin and rookie Ryan Newman.

The 44th Daytona 500 began with some question marks, with NASCAR giving both Ford and Dodge a quarter-inch reduction of their rear spoilers on Friday with little practice time to see how they would work in the draft.

Chevrolet and Pontiac were considered the big favorites, but the race turned into a 200-lap brawl, with lots of side-by-side action and two big crashes, one of them involving 18 cars and the other a six-car accident.

Gordon, the defending Winston Cup champion who has won the Daytona 500 twice, helped ignite the big one when Kevin Harvick, last year's top rookie, tried to block him on lap 149 as the two battled for second place.

Gordon tagged Harvick's rear bumper and sent him spinning up the banking into the wall. Harvick's car then slid back down the track right in front of a pack of cars racing at close to 190 mph.

Kenny Wallace's car erupted in flames in the middle of the melee, but nobody was injured in the first big test of a NASCAR safety initiative that was accelerated after Earnhardt's death in a last-lap crash here last February.

"I took a pretty hard hit right in the door and all the new safety stuff did its job," said Ricky Rudd, who was in the middle of the first crash.

Several drivers blamed the crashing and the banging on new aerodynamic rules, intended to slow the cars down and make it harder to pass. They said they were forced to block continuously or lose positions in bunches.

“ It was a wild and crazy race. I went from the back to the front and the front to the back.”
—Jeff Gordon


"There's no give, just take, take, take," said Todd Bodine, who was caught up in the 18-car crash. "When you have something like that all day, something like this is bound to happen."

Rudd said the pace was too slow.

"It feels like you're running 60 miles an hour out there, so everybody feels like a hero and takes a lot of chances," he said.

Seventeen cars were still left on the lead lap after that crash and the hard racing continued.

It appeared Gordon had everybody right where he wanted them when, with Marlin pushing his Chevy from behind, he passed Busch for the lead on lap 177. Marlin followed into second.

It stayed that way until after another flag for a crash by Robby Gordon on lap 191. On the restart on lap 195, with cars crashing well behind them on the main straightaway, Marlin tried to pass Jeff Gordon on the low side.

Gordon slid over to block and the two came together, with Gordon sliding sideways and skidding into the infield grass, ending his shot at another Daytona win. He wound up ninth.

"I probably should have given it up once he got beside me," Gordon said. "That was my own fault. ... He had a run on me and I blocked him and got myself turned.

"It was a wild and crazy race. I went from the back to the front and the front to the back," Gordon said.

Marlin was smiling despite the unhappy ending.

"Jeff did what he should have done. He should block. I had a run on him and got up on his quarterpanel. I knew it was going to be close. I thought he would pull back and let me go by," Marlin said.

"It's the Daytona 500. You've got to do everything you can to win."

Burton, who led only the last four laps, averaged 142.971 mph to give Dodge its first Daytona 500 victory since 1974. He won with the same car in which he led a race-high 53 laps in 2001 before crashing late in the race. His best previous finishes in seven Daytona 500s were a pair of eighths.

Although NASCAR's new aerodynamic rules were intended to put a premium on passing, there were 20 lead changes among 12 drivers and plenty of excitement for the 190,000 spectators at Daytona International Speedway and the big national television audience.

Two of the top contenders were eliminated from contention early, with the engine in Tony Stewart's Pontiac blowing on the third lap, and two flat tires and an accident relegating Dale Earnhardt Jr. to 29th.

Two of the most-watched drivers in the race also had problems. Shawna Robinson, the second woman ever to race here and the first since 1980, finished 24th in only her second Winston Cup start, and 60-year-old Dave Marcis ended his long career with a 42nd-place finish in his record 33rd Daytona 500 start.

"At one point, we ran out of fuel. That didn't help us any," said Robinson. "It was kind of survival. I think my head is still spinning a little.

"We accomplished something, but I want to be competitive," she said.

Marcis, the oldest driver ever in this race, went out with an overheated engine.

"We didn't want it to end like this," he said.

What?? An Opie and Anthony topic here? Well, YEAH, why not?


I thought this bit was a fucking riot, however, they really beat it into the ground. What's with that? Anyone else notice that they have been doing that alot with bits lately? It's getting to be a little disappointing.

OK, so last night was without a doubt some of the funniest shit I have seen in awhile. :roflmao:

#1 We went to eat at this little place on St. Marks Place, Dojo's I think it was called (I dont remember much after the amount I drank last night). And we walk in, and what is sitting there? A table full of midgets. Yup, thats right. And it's not like it was 2 or 3. There was something like 7 or 8 of them. It was a fucking convention. I think my favorite part about midgets are their giant heads. Although, the way they walk bo-legged is pretty fucking funny as well. Luckily I didnt have to sit and stare at them through the whole meal, I had my back to them. I think if I was facing them, I would have laughed out loud the whole time.

#2 OK, so we drive uptown on our way to the bar, and we look in front of us and what is crossing the street? No, not more midgets, although that would be fucking hysterical. No, it was a limousine. Not just your average every day limousine either, it was a midget limousine. WEll, sort of. It was a white, stretch VW bug limousine. Yeah, one of the new ones. It was one of the funniest looking cars I've ever seen in my life.

Well, what kind of shit are YOU?


<TABLE BORDER=0><TR><TD>
I am A Dingle Berry .<BR />
Dingle berries... we all know one. clinging to that parent or significant other for dear life.. basing every discussion on the opinions and actions of that one special person. the mama's boy (or girl) of the shit family, but Dingle berries do have a dark side and are known for their jealousy and sudden bursts of anger and violence though the life of a Dingle berry may seem meaning less, it does have its upsides... usually death.
<A HREF="http://www.thisisacryforhelp.com/shitqui....re You?</a>
<font color=EEEEEE>



Edited By Maynard on Feb. 18 2002 at 12:38

i'm a tool

Which one do you think he is, and why?



Edited By IkeaBoy on Feb. 17 2002 at 11:18

I think you fuckin Mongoloids will get a kick outa this...
(I did)

Pick a date...Carefully...

:amf: