Old Dog

Oh the caveman in me has woken... "me want," he said.

Like so many years, this year I will watch for the pleasure of the game. Too many generations have been born and raised in Canada to have much (if any) connection to any other country... so this will be the chance to look for miracles, to root for the underdog... and to just enjoy the passion for the game!

Thanks Mutau!!! I was just surfing and found it.... Muttley was a childhood hero!!!

Okay... I will capitulate to the masses. It will now be a soft "c" in my mind.... I won't even ask about making the "b" at the end of the word silent... cuz that would be dum"b".

Sounds like a plan... we will have to plan a three way steakfest !!!!

Mutau... you have gone all ethereal on me!!!!! I may have to change my entire life now. Up has become down, black has become white... oh how this thread doth vex me!!!!

Alright... let's travel down that path my friends... Whats more Canadian than a hard "c"....isn't that what we all are working with?? Let's face it, if we didn't have a hard "c" we would all be staying home knitting and playing lawn darts. The business is all about a hard "c"...

Alright lad... but if you pronounce it like William Wallace, Robbie Burns or Robert the Bruce... all great men who wore short skirts... it would be KERB as in Celtic. And who am I to argue with an angry Scot!!!

Hmmmm..... Things that make you feel as good as an orgasm... almost. I hate to be impolitic... but frankly there is little that can compare to a trip to the bathroom for a good number two. Like I said, it is not the most pleasant discussion material, but THAT feeling is amazing dependent on the situation. I agree with the itch in the middle of the back thing.... ohhhhhh BABY! The feeling of being in a tanning bed in the middle of winter. The warmth envelops you and I don't think anything else makes me relax and fall asleep more quickly. The first taste of a strawberry - fresh - in the summer. Finally being able to stand up and stretch after five hours of driving. Lying in your own bed after being away for a few weeks. When a steak is done to perfection... the taste on the tongue elicits an amazing full body feeling. Coming home after work and shedding all the work clothes and walking around in bare feet and whatever else you decide to keep on.

I believe the correct pronunciation would be "the place where all the hot ladies hang out." But serb, really???? I have seen no one here that resembles Slobodan Milosevic. No one yet has been talking about the onset of the Great War in 1914. No one has yet said, "let's kill the Bosnians." Ohhhhh... all of you veterans may call it SERB if you will.... but in my feeble, weak and over imaginative brain... it will always be KERB.

but it is a bunch of flowers admiring a bum. Imagine the little flower conversations??? Bud: Did you see that bum??? Bud (as well): Ohhhh yeah... but look at Larry and Frank... they couldn't hold back.... Bud (the first): You know what they call those guys.... Bud (as well): Yup... Premature POLLENATORS!!!!

Of course not technically a flower (though they do blossom) and larger than the typical plant... I must say I admire the simple orange for the pleasure it brings....

Ohhhh Angela I love it when you talk all techie.... my floppy disk just became a hard drive!

Here ya go Angela!!!

Geez Tango, I hope you are talking about Carrie and not me....

Alba gu bragh!!!!! Haggis is a universally despised food that everyone hates before trying... I am with you Daddio... it's fantastic!

All of it is so dependent on variables... it isn't just as simple as client preference. For me it really doesn't matter, but if I had to choose an outcall is preferable. With no SO at the present time, I don't have to worry about evidence or discovery... and it keeps me on my toes with keeping my place neat and tidy. I am rather fortunate at the present time... my reg feels as comfortable at my place as she does in her own. That being said... if outcall is not an option, we are blessed (at least in the Ottawa area) with a plethora of beautiful women that will entertain at their own place or in another upscale location. It's win/win.

Ironically, I rarely get told I look like Catherine Zeta Jones as well.

Meg, Veronique... watch the video, you are not alone!

Men as a rule are statistics driven. We get excited when we see a 72" LED TV that is 1080i/p and 240mhz. We admire a guy that can hit .400 in the course of a season. We salivate over a vehicle that has 455 hp and can do 0-60 in 3.0 seconds. So when a woman says she is a 36DD or a 28k (there will be a link later)... our interests are piqued. It's not that a "k" cup guarantees a better experience than an "a"... it's just that there is a reasonable expectation that when you arrive at the moment of unveiling, you won't be disappointed by the outcome. All that being said... meh. I know for me, I would much rather be with someone that has a stunning personality than a perfect pair (natural or reconstructed) of breasts. I have run the gamut on sizes, shapes and mismatched pairs... it doesn't matter. Now for the promised link. BBC ran a documentary series a few years back on the body and body image. The first documentary was entitled "My Big Breasts and Me"... it runs 56 minutes so it is not for the faint of heart, but it gives a fascinating view on the pitfalls of having a large bust.... http://www.guba.com/watch/3000106762/BBC-My-Big-Breasts-and-Me

Old Dog does just fine, thank you very much. ;)

Hmmm ... "Yes, I would like to ask a question. May I substitute something on the menu??? I was looking at the "finger fucking with juice." Tell me can I get a soup or salad instead?"

Now this is a challenge!!!! The Hairy Sack Tax... you must pay if the grooming is not up to standard The Horny Spaniard Tax ... collected when Bolero or any Flamenco music is played in the background The Homer Simpson Tax ... Doh! The Havarti Swiss Tax ... paid immediately if any part of you smells like cheese The Handsome Suave Tax... $1000 just for looking so good.... The Have to Spit Tax ... when swallowing is just not an option... The Historical Sex Tax... Paid when your fantasy involves cavewomen, Marie Antoinette, flapper girls or Eleanor Roosevelt The Hidden Socks Tax ... paid upon discovery that the package is not what was advertised. Carry on....

The liver horror. I will not eat it. When I was a kid, my grandpa had a farm. It was a fantastic place... but that being said, there are things that farmers understand that city folk and children do not. Farmers do not name animals for a reason. My first experience with liver came at grandpa's farm. It smelled good. I wasn't keen on the taste and texture. I asked what it was, and grandma said "calf's liver." My eyes went wide. I excused myself from the table, put on my boots and coat and ran to the barn. The stall where "my" calf had been was empty. I can never eat liver again. Now that being said, we had burgers, roast beef and steak for the next two weeks and I was fine... that was generic meat. That's why farmers don't name their animals.

I understand your point Popsicle and I hope you don't see this as being argumentative. The Charter rights under section 10 were mentioned in the second post. My point was rather that the "right to silence" is implicit, that being said, it need not be mentioned at the time of the arrest. Police and Peace officers in Canada are only obliged to ensure that the person arrested is made aware of the allegations against them and that they have the right to counsel. Sorry for the legalese...