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LTRsubNW -> Just some things I've been wondering lately... (7/21/2006 8:05:32 PM)
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Now, I know these posts are supposed to be BDSM related, so, while I'm asking these questions, assume I've just been disciplined by a remarkably sexy woman dressed in leather (and that she was snarling when she did it).
My questions:
1) Is it illegal to sit on the floor, naked, in front of your freezer, with the door open, and your finger on the "send" button on your cell phone, having already pre-dialed 911?
2) How come the labels on all food products shows the calorie count "per serving" but when I try to eat that specific amount, I suddenly and repeatedly hear myself saying "10 more pounds a year isn't really all that bad is it?"
3) I wonder why my Mom continually attempted to clean my face with her spit until I was well into my early 20's, yet every single time I've ever gone to a janitorial supply house and asked "what's the best thing you have for removing dirt?" not once have they ever handed me a bottle of spit with my Moms picture on the front?
4) And while we're talking about Moms, that whole super strength arm swish thing. The one wherein what appears imminently to be a horrifying car crash (you know, the one where a leaf just whizzed past her front bumper, she thought it may have been a bird, so she suddenly and abruptly made her car jarringly meander from 25 miles an hour down to 15 miles per hour all in under 20 seconds), your Mother suddenly and from out of nowhere, flings her forearm across your lap (you're of course already well secured in your seat belt with the additional safety mechanism of your legs at exactly right angles the entire time you're in the car with her because "IT'S YOUR FREAKING MOM DRIVING FOR GODS SAKE!!!!!") because she knows, like all other Mothers on the planet do, that her tiny little arm (the same one that is incapable of opening a mayonaise jar) is singularly capable of keeping you, in a head on with a fully loaded semi truck, from leaping to your death through the windshield.
And lastly...
5) At what point in a cats life does she finally decide "well, I've been leaving these dead fucking eviscerated mice right next to his slippers for close to 7 years now and not ONCE has the ungrateful prick ever been kind enough to say 'Thank You' to me...fuck that bastard...see if I do SHIT for him anymore!" ?
I'd like to know the answers to these questions.
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