Pink Lady, where are you?!
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Joined: Nov 2002
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From: in da pinkie pad
and seeing as no one is going to bag it then I shall bag it for myself....... 
a CORNER I believe
and you can't shout at me for multisequential posting an all that malarchy, you just abandoned me for a wee while
a CORNER I believe
and you can't shout at me for multisequential posting an all that malarchy, you just abandoned me for a wee while
Thread Starter
Former Moderator
Joined: Apr 2002
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From: State of Confusion
No worries, Pinkie. We don't have the same multiple post "issues" that they seem to have elsewhere. Post as many sequential posts as you like...just keep 'em naughty!!
gotta go just seen the time 
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From: Wheeler Army Airfield, HI
Originally posted by Pink Lady
No..... Luke approaching from across the room, glancing across at a tall Pink "cute" chick, fleeting eye contact through the atmospheric smokey room mmmm saucy bird, tall broad shoulders parting the waiting pack of desparate dans, detouring via the bar to collect a coupla (no make it several) ice cold bottles of Becks (and a packet of crisps please), can't quite manage everything so now looking perplexed asks for a tray, glances across and see one of the desparate dans moving in, fleeting eye contact made again, tall broad shoulders manfully shoves the remainder of the desparate dans out of the way and sidles up infront of said tall Pink Cute chick and shoulders aforementioned desparate but nearly was lucky dan out of way offers quite disappointingly not as cute tall pink chick as thought across the smokey room a bottle of ice cold beer and says..........
"Hi am Luke....nice to meet you"
No..... Luke approaching from across the room, glancing across at a tall Pink "cute" chick, fleeting eye contact through the atmospheric smokey room mmmm saucy bird, tall broad shoulders parting the waiting pack of desparate dans, detouring via the bar to collect a coupla (no make it several) ice cold bottles of Becks (and a packet of crisps please), can't quite manage everything so now looking perplexed asks for a tray, glances across and see one of the desparate dans moving in, fleeting eye contact made again, tall broad shoulders manfully shoves the remainder of the desparate dans out of the way and sidles up infront of said tall Pink Cute chick and shoulders aforementioned desparate but nearly was lucky dan out of way offers quite disappointingly not as cute tall pink chick as thought across the smokey room a bottle of ice cold beer and says..........
"Hi am Luke....nice to meet you"
Oh my...that was great!
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Joined: Sep 2002
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Okay... now how Luke would REALLY approach you...
He knocks over three or four drinks as he bounces off the bar on his way to the can. After returning, with unwashed hands, he orders up another beer, without a glass, spilling more drinks in his general vicinity. He sees a tall pink cutie across the room, or in his case two or three cuties due to alcohol impaired vision. He gracefully staggers almost in their general direction, stopping to eat some greasy finger-food off of a long since abandoned plate that's bearing fresh cigarette butts in the mustard dip. Wiping his hands on his previously stained shirt, he makes his way further toward the cutie(s) stopping briefly to scratch himself. Satisfied with said scratching, he continues onward, finally reaching his destination. He opens his beer fermented lips and begins to moan a pick-up line that was abandoned before the Korean war, when a bubble of noxious fumes escapes his digestive tract, resulting in a barley-hops scented festival for the senses. At this point, he realizes that the three or four cuties were actually, the lone wooden Indian bearing cigars in the corner.
He proceeds to take the wooden Indian home for a night of gratuitous sex, and feels better about himself in the morning.
He knocks over three or four drinks as he bounces off the bar on his way to the can. After returning, with unwashed hands, he orders up another beer, without a glass, spilling more drinks in his general vicinity. He sees a tall pink cutie across the room, or in his case two or three cuties due to alcohol impaired vision. He gracefully staggers almost in their general direction, stopping to eat some greasy finger-food off of a long since abandoned plate that's bearing fresh cigarette butts in the mustard dip. Wiping his hands on his previously stained shirt, he makes his way further toward the cutie(s) stopping briefly to scratch himself. Satisfied with said scratching, he continues onward, finally reaching his destination. He opens his beer fermented lips and begins to moan a pick-up line that was abandoned before the Korean war, when a bubble of noxious fumes escapes his digestive tract, resulting in a barley-hops scented festival for the senses. At this point, he realizes that the three or four cuties were actually, the lone wooden Indian bearing cigars in the corner.
He proceeds to take the wooden Indian home for a night of gratuitous sex, and feels better about himself in the morning.
