TRF Prediction Thread and Roast: Rushgoober's 30,000th post

[Tombstone Mountain]

This is pure gold! I this thread! :D

That coming from a former Seven Cities of Gold dancer is touching.

[Babycat]

This is pure gold! I this thread! :D

That coming from a former Seven Cities of Gold dancer is touching.

I'm one of the dancers?! :o Whoa! :D

[Tombstone Mountain]

This is pure gold! I this thread! :D

That coming from a former Seven Cities of Gold dancer is touching.

I'm one of the dancers?! :o Whoa! :D

one of the many hats you wear I presume

[losingit2k]

Judas Priest Heavy Metal for ya

Dude the YBG-5 are awesome! The bass player is wicked good! Love the slow instrumental in the middle. Brilliant! Talented blokes they are! Sounding like Judas Priest!

 

:haz: :haz: :haz:

[Tombstone Mountain]

Judas Priest Heavy Metal for ya

Dude the YBG-5 are awesome! The bass player is wicked good! Love the slow instrumental in the middle. Brilliant! Talented blokes they are! Sounding like Judas Priest!

 

:haz: :haz: :haz:

Their keyboard was sick that night, bad Cuban food in Toronto got the best of him!

[losingit2k]

Judas Priest Heavy Metal for ya

Dude the YBG-5 are awesome! The bass player is wicked good! Love the slow instrumental in the middle. Brilliant! Talented blokes they are! Sounding like Judas Priest!

 

:haz: :haz: :haz:

Their keyboard was sick that night, bad Cuban food in Toronto got the best of him!

Those black beans will do it to ya everytime! :laughing guy:

[HomesickAlien]

Speaking about body guards and such, what happened to all of my comrades? All of a sudden, I feel very alone here.

 

I'm still back at the Huguenot, attempting to appreciate the rustic charm of our quarters.

 

Where exactly are you? You've been gone since you announced you were going to Rome. I got bored here, so I shelled that 50 lb. bag of walnuts you bought. Since I had a lot of time on my hands, not to mention walnut shells, I resorted to arts and crafts. Here's some of my handiwork:

 

A chair:

 

http://i.imgur.com/JSItIIH.png

 

A nativity scene:

 

http://i.imgur.com/iuFdzY8.png

 

 

 

I'm not sure, but I think this is a sure sign that I'm losing my grip on reality. I guess 19 days of the "Justice for Goober" campaign have taken their toll.

 

I really have to use that outhouse, but I think there's a bear sniffing around outside. . .

[HomesickAlien]

Gary Rushgoober, it's time.

 

 

Ollie Ollie Oxen Free!

[Tombstone Mountain]

Speaking about body guards and such, what happened to all of my comrades? All of a sudden, I feel very alone here.

 

I'm still back at the Huguenot, attempting to appreciate the rustic charm of our quarters.

 

Where exactly are you? You've been gone since you announced you were going to Rome. I got bored here, so I shelled that 50 lb. bag of walnuts you bought. Since I had a lot of time on my hands, not to mention walnut shells, I resorted to arts and crafts. Here's some of my handiwork:

 

A chair:

 

http://i.imgur.com/JSItIIH.png

 

A nativity scene:

 

http://i.imgur.com/iuFdzY8.png

 

 

 

I'm not sure, but I think this is a sure sign that I'm losing my grip on reality. I guess 19 days of the "Justice for Goober" campaign have taken their toll.

 

I really have to use that outhouse, but I think there's a bear sniffing around outside. . .

Look guys and gals, quit shelling walnuts and all the "artsy" stuff. When I arrive tomorrow in the city of Toronto with Werner Herzog, we're going to the best digs in town. Get your minds right. Listen to the YBG 5. We ain't living in the gutter...salvation has come—trust me! Edited December 4, 2013 by Tombstone Mountain

[losingit2k]

Speaking about body guards and such, what happened to all of my comrades? All of a sudden, I feel very alone here.

 

I'm still back at the Huguenot, attempting to appreciate the rustic charm of our quarters.

 

Where exactly are you? You've been gone since you announced you were going to Rome. I got bored here, so I shelled that 50 lb. bag of walnuts you bought. Since I had a lot of time on my hands, not to mention walnut shells, I resorted to arts and crafts. Here's some of my handiwork:

 

A chair:

 

http://i.imgur.com/JSItIIH.png

 

A nativity scene:

 

http://i.imgur.com/iuFdzY8.png

 

 

 

I'm not sure, but I think this is a sure sign that I'm losing my grip on reality. I guess 19 days of the "Justice for Goober" campaign have taken their toll.

 

I really have to use that outhouse, but I think there's a bear sniffing around outside. . .

Look guys and gals, quit shelling walnuts and all the "artsy" stuff. When I arrive tomorrow in the city of Toronto with Werner Herzog, we're going to the best digs in town. Get your minds right. Listen to the YBG 5. We ain't living in the gutter...salvation has come—trust me!

I like how the star is actually a comet. Very modern and appropriate!

[Tombstone Mountain]

Gary Rushgoober, it's time.

 

 

Ollie Ollie Oxen Free!

Goobs is busy at the moment. He's penning more Twilight sequels

[Tombstone Mountain]

Yukon Blade Grinder Exclusive:

 

Metal Damnation via

 

The Orbit Room

 

12.1.13

Toronto

 

Canada Braces for Impact

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder knows a thing or two about pressure. It thrives on deadlines. With a howling press surrounding Canada’s biggest international to-do since the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremonies, the arrival of Rush Goober has certainly caused a deafening uproar in her greatest city. The Blade Grinder is on the set, prepared for the money shot, and ready for the director to yell action!

 

Toronto, home of Anthem Entertainment, has literally transformed itself to show an even greater measure of support for their most beloved export, and national treasure. Oh, how the legend is growing. As if images on postage stamps and currency weren’t enough, the band now ascends to a higher level of prominence in Canada’s history with the trial of the millennia. Nowhere in her lengthy history can one remember circumstances such as this, save the great “Otter Pelt” rebellion of 1785. Freshly obtained from the states with little or no trouble at all, the perpetrator of the most heinous of crimes is now in the Great White North.

 

Pope Francis gave the now legendary homily that bridged all faiths last Sunday. Delivering the ultimate Rush tribute entitled “Closer to our Hearts” from the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica. The Sermon on Mount Nerd opened up the minds and conscience of the world regarding the depraved phenomenon of “Impersonating a Rush fan”. A papal decree is no laughing matter, regardless of which belief system one endorses intellectually. As Pope Francis stood in plain view for the masses to see, he lit an international firestorm that is now burning hotter than ever, with the epicenter residing in a jail cell in downtown Toronto. One can honestly say that when you get the attention of the big guy of Vatican City, something is on the horizon.

 

Seizing the moment and gaining points with his new political football on the opposite side of the Atlantic, Toronto city mayor Rob Ford was all too happy to jump on this gravy train with biscuit wheels. A press conference set for Friday promises to be HUGE—no pun intended. Since media reports surfaced from Santa Barbara about the extradition, the media has now shifted locations.

 

The weekend news cycle has been somewhat slow since last Friday’s news dump. However, The Yukon Blade Grinder did get a sniff as to the word on the street surrounding this case without even seeking it out. One of Canada’s most famous hangouts, the Orbit Room, had a band onstage Saturday night that paid homage to your humble news outlet, while roasting the Goobs.

 

The Crotch Crickets of East Tennessee is their name, but for that gig, they dubbed themselves “The Yukon Blade Grinders 5”. Sporting one of the biggest mullets Canada has seen in some time, guitarist Rolph De’dawg said “anything we can do show solidarity with Canada, we’ll do it! Dishing Vapor Trails is just plain wrong!” after a sweaty night of East TN ass kicking. That’s the spirit young man—Welcome to the Great White North.

 

Admittedly all-American, but now honorary Canucks, the Crotch Crickets doled out their own brand of molten metal, dedicating three songs to the damnation of Canada’s most notorious criminal. The songs were indicative of the current national vibe—a Judas Priest cover, “Between Hammer and Anvil”, an instrumental called “South of the Belt Buckle”—written by the band that day, and the Queen classic “Stone Cold Crazy” a la Metallica. The misfit collection of talented guitarists and a relentless rhythm section showed they belong in Maple Leaf country.

 

Always eager to help musicians get their name out, the YBG was given a video clip by security to share for all of Blade Grinder Nation to see. Here’s a link to the event as it ended:

 

https://www.youtube....e&v=WPUGvlcXLjk

 

Now, as we see the tidal wave of support approaching one must wonder—how is this going to end? The YBG is not speculating, but the Grinders have dropped the hammer on the anvil. We believe Mayor Ford will do the same on Friday. Until then, enjoy the Crotch Crickets, er, the Yukon Blade Grinders 5, froth of anger directed at Rush T. Goober…it’s just plain crazy!

Crotch Crickets? once they get on you, ya gotta move!!! Edited December 4, 2013 by Tombstone Mountain

[HomesickAlien]

Gary Rushgoober, it's time.

 

 

Ollie Ollie Oxen Free!

Goobs is busy at the moment. He's penning more Twilight sequels

 

I'm beginning to think you threw a pillowcase over his head, tossed him in the back of a van, and now have him locked in a cellar someplace.

 

 

Tombstone to Goober: I'll leave you go when I finish my story. I have great ideas rattling around in my head, and I need time for them to play out. Now be quiet and drink your carrot juice.

 

[H. P. L.]

We're in this together girl! Like flies on a turd they'll come around

You don't know how you got the right image, there...

[H. P. L.]

Rome, december 4th

 

I watched the video of the YBGrinders5 on my tablet while waiting for the girls' plane to land. The fierce performance of this band brought me back in time, when I was an angry young kid travelling through the 80s, powered only by the sacred gospel of Prog, facing menacing musical figures that would drive my peers crazy such as Madonna, Spandau Ballet and Duran Duran, armed only with the sacred sword of truth and Robert Fripp's facial hair.

 

And sword is not a word I use lightly, ever since trespassing the Monastery of The Sisters of Mercy of The Blessed Virgin of the Seven Great Pains. Every morning I pass by the ginormous statue of Mary with seven swords cutting through her heart, only to meet Sister Rosalia and face her wrath inquisitive stare, her tiny hand always tentatively reaching for one of the seven broadswords she keeps by her desk.

 

But my life ain't ever been easy, so I don't complain. I felt I was a man who could face everything that life was gonna throw at him, until at least that wretched plane landed.

 

The one thing I must say, is that Lorraine is so smoking hot!! I mean, she's a house on fire! How could Substance share a room with her, even in the dismal Thistle Dew, and not go crazy?? Now I understand all the gloominess transparing through his reports. He was trying to keep his hormones in check! I mean, whaaaa! Just whaaa!!! Add to this the presence of the other SIX dancers and it's enough to drive every eterosexual italian red blooded male over the edge.

 

But since I'm not just an eterosexual italian red blooded male, but also a Rush fan, I kept my cool (on the outside) and tried to find a minivan to get us all to the centre of the Caput Mundi. The driver of the minivan (don't ask me to drive in Rome, you have to be born here to do that) was NOT a Rush fan, so he went blitzkrieg crazy. He kept looking the rear view mirror to check out Robin's decolletè, while at the same time pushing the pedal like he was squeezing a dead rat. We made it through the GRA (Gran Raccordo Anulare), the circular circuit that circles the City, still alive. When we arrived at the Monastery, the driver was all dottò this and dottò that, dottò being the abbreviation of "doctor", the way Romans call the foreigners. Strange guys.

 

Sister Rosalia met us all very friendly and was particulary maternal with the Dancers. She insisted they take some well deserved rest and lead them to their cells rooms.

Which left me, alone, to escort Lorraine through one of the most romantic cities in the world. I could feel her beauty calling out to me louder than the singer from Nightwish. But me, being the piece of stone I am, was ever the perfect gentleman.

 

As we strolled through Testaccio, one of the most famous neighbourhoods of Rome, immortaly depicted in the life-changing novel "The Story" by Elsa Morante, Lorraine couldn't help but notice that the Eternal City is by all means eternal but not necessairly clean. Dog poop was everywhere on the sidewalks.

I, as an Italian, am very aware of this really annoying habit of my people, but it seems we will never see the end of this.

But neither I expected to see a very curious man, dressed all in black, black coat, black hat, kneeling over a byproduct of doggie digestion - with no dog of his own! - rub it with a brush and keenly moving over to another.

Lorraine, ever the no-nonsense North-American, addressed him with harsh words. What was he doing? At least he could pick it up, instead of just, what, polishing it with a brush?

«That's what I do, ma'am» replied the man.

«What?» said Lorraine.

«What?» said I.

«My name is Rugantino Frategiovanni. And I'm a turd polisher!».

Edited December 4, 2013 by H. P. L.

[H. P. L.]

Sorry, the forum played an awful trick on me. Double post. Edited December 4, 2013 by H. P. L.

[Tombstone Mountain]

Rome, december 4th

 

I watched the video of the YBGrinders5 on my tablet while waiting for the girls' plane to land. The fierce performance of this band brought me back in time, when I was an angry young kid travelling through the 80s, powered only by the sacred gospel of Prog, facing menacing musical figures that would drive my peers crazy such as Madonna, Spandau Ballet and Duran Duran, armed only with the sacred sword of truth and Robert Fripp's facial hair.

 

And sword is not a word I use lightly, ever since trespassing the Monastery of The Sisters of Mercy of The Blessed Virgin of the Seven Great Pains. Every morning I pass by the ginormous statue of Mary with seven swords cutting through her heart, only to meet Sister Rosalia and face her wrath inquisitive stare, her tiny hand always tentatively reaching for one of the seven broadswords she keeps by her desk.

 

But my life ain't ever been easy, so I don't complain. I felt I was a man who could face everything that life was gonna throw at him, until at least that wretched plane landed.

 

The one thing I must say, is that Lorraine is so smoking hot!! I mean, she's a house on fire! How could Substance share a room with her, even in the dismal Thistle Dew, and not go crazy?? Now I understand all the gloominess transparing through his reports. He was trying to keep his hormones in check! I mean, whaaaa! Just whaaa!!! Add to this the presence of the other SIX dancers and it's enough to drive every eterosexual italian red blooded male over the edge.

 

But since I'm not just an eterosexual italian red blooded male, but also a Rush fan, I kept my cool (on the outside) and tried to find a minivan to get us all to the centre of the Caput Mundi. The driver of the minivan (don't ask me to drive in Rome, you have to be born here to do that) was NOT a Rush fan, so he went blitzkrieg crazy. He kept looking the rear view mirror to check out Robin's decolletè, while at the same time pushing the pedal like he was squeezing a dead rat. We made it through the GRA (Gran Raccordo Anulare), the circular circuit that circles the City, still alive. When we arrived at the Monastery, the driver was all dottò this and dottò that, dottò being the abbreviation of "doctor", the way Romans call the foreigners. Strange guys.

 

Sister Rosalia met us all very friendly and was particulary maternal with the Dancers. She insisted they take some well deserved rest and lead them to their cells rooms.

Which left me, alone, to escort Lorraine through one of the most romantic cities in the world. I could feel her beauty calling out to me louder than the singer from Nightwish. But me, being the piece of stone I am, was ever the perfect gentleman.

 

As we strolled through Testaccio, one of the most famous neighbourhoods of Rome, immortaly depicted in the life-changing novel "The Story" by Elsa Morante, Lorraine couldn't help but notice that the Eternal City is by all means eternal but not necessairly clean. Dog poop was everywhere on the sidewalks.

I, as an Italian, am very aware of this really annoying habit of my people, but it seems we will never see the end of this.

But neither I expected to see a very curious man, dressed all in black, black coat, black hat, kneeling over a byproduct of doggie digestion - with no dog of his own! - rub it with a brush and keenly moving over to another.

Lorraine, ever the no-nonsense North-American, addressed him with harsh words. What was he doing? At least he could pick it up, instead of just, what, polishing it with a brush?

«That's what I do, ma'am» replied the man.

«What?» said Lorraine.

«What?» said I.

«My name is Rugantino Frategiovanni. And I'm a turd polisher!».

You crazy Italian...is it true all Italian men eat pizza for breakfast?

[H. P. L.]

Rome, december 4th

 

I watched the video of the YBGrinders5 on my tablet while waiting for the girls' plane to land. The fierce performance of this band brought me back in time, when I was an angry young kid travelling through the 80s, powered only by the sacred gospel of Prog, facing menacing musical figures that would drive my peers crazy such as Madonna, Spandau Ballet and Duran Duran, armed only with the sacred sword of truth and Robert Fripp's facial hair.

 

And sword is not a word I use lightly, ever since trespassing the Monastery of The Sisters of Mercy of The Blessed Virgin of the Seven Great Pains. Every morning I pass by the ginormous statue of Mary with seven swords cutting through her heart, only to meet Sister Rosalia and face her wrath inquisitive stare, her tiny hand always tentatively reaching for one of the seven broadswords she keeps by her desk.

 

But my life ain't ever been easy, so I don't complain. I felt I was a man who could face everything that life was gonna throw at him, until at least that wretched plane landed.

 

The one thing I must say, is that Lorraine is so smoking hot!! I mean, she's a house on fire! How could Substance share a room with her, even in the dismal Thistle Dew, and not go crazy?? Now I understand all the gloominess transparing through his reports. He was trying to keep his hormones in check! I mean, whaaaa! Just whaaa!!! Add to this the presence of the other SIX dancers and it's enough to drive every eterosexual italian red blooded male over the edge.

 

But since I'm not just an eterosexual italian red blooded male, but also a Rush fan, I kept my cool (on the outside) and tried to find a minivan to get us all to the centre of the Caput Mundi. The driver of the minivan (don't ask me to drive in Rome, you have to be born here to do that) was NOT a Rush fan, so he went blitzkrieg crazy. He kept looking the rear view mirror to check out Robin's decolletè, while at the same time pushing the pedal like he was squeezing a dead rat. We made it through the GRA (Gran Raccordo Anulare), the circular circuit that circles the City, still alive. When we arrived at the Monastery, the driver was all dottò this and dottò that, dottò being the abbreviation of "doctor", the way Romans call the foreigners. Strange guys.

 

Sister Rosalia met us all very friendly and was particulary maternal with the Dancers. She insisted they take some well deserved rest and lead them to their cells rooms.

Which left me, alone, to escort Lorraine through one of the most romantic cities in the world. I could feel her beauty calling out to me louder than the singer from Nightwish. But me, being the piece of stone I am, was ever the perfect gentleman.

 

As we strolled through Testaccio, one of the most famous neighbourhoods of Rome, immortaly depicted in the life-changing novel "The Story" by Elsa Morante, Lorraine couldn't help but notice that the Eternal City is by all means eternal but not necessairly clean. Dog poop was everywhere on the sidewalks.

I, as an Italian, am very aware of this really annoying habit of my people, but it seems we will never see the end of this.

But neither I expected to see a very curious man, dressed all in black, black coat, black hat, kneeling over a byproduct of doggie digestion - with no dog of his own! - rub it with a brush and keenly moving over to another.

Lorraine, ever the no-nonsense North-American, addressed him with harsh words. What was he doing? At least he could pick it up, instead of just, what, polishing it with a brush?

«That's what I do, ma'am» replied the man.

«What?» said Lorraine.

«What?» said I.

«My name is Rugantino Frategiovanni. And I'm a turd polisher!».

You crazy Italian...is it true all Italian men eat pizza for breakfast?

My, NO! That's blasphemy!!! You eat pizza for lunch if you're a working man, or for dinner if you want to relax and have fun. We are the masters of breakfast!

[Tombstone Mountain]

I'm feeling "eterosexual" after reading the Italian YBG this morning.

[H. P. L.]

I'm feeling "eterosexual" after reading the Italian YBG this morning.

OK, I missed an "H". That's alright. Real MEN don't use Hs. :lol: :lol: :P :P :P :P

[Tombstone Mountain]

I'm feeling "eterosexual" after reading the Italian YBG this morning.

OK, I missed an "H". That's alright. Real MEN don't use Hs. :lol: :lol: :P :P :P :P

That's a fantastic entry bro! Watch out for Lorraine—she's a piece of work only the pope can handle

[Tombstone Mountain]

Yukon Blade Grinder Exclusive:

 

Metal Damnation via

 

The Orbit Room

 

12.1.13

Toronto

 

Canada Braces for Impact

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder knows a thing or two about pressure. It thrives on deadlines. With a howling press surrounding Canada’s biggest international to-do since the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremonies, the arrival of Rush Goober has certainly caused a deafening uproar in her greatest city. The Blade Grinder is on the set, prepared for the money shot, and ready for the director to yell action!

 

Toronto, home of Anthem Entertainment, has literally transformed itself to show an even greater measure of support for their most beloved export, and national treasure. Oh, how the legend is growing. As if images on postage stamps and currency weren’t enough, the band now ascends to a higher level of prominence in Canada’s history with the trial of the millennia. Nowhere in her lengthy history can one remember circumstances such as this, save the great “Otter Pelt” rebellion of 1785. Freshly obtained from the states with little or no trouble at all, the perpetrator of the most heinous of crimes is now in the Great White North.

 

Pope Francis gave the now legendary homily that bridged all faiths last Sunday. Delivering the ultimate Rush tribute entitled “Closer to our Hearts” from the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica. The Sermon on Mount Nerd opened up the minds and conscience of the world regarding the depraved phenomenon of “Impersonating a Rush fan”. A papal decree is no laughing matter, regardless of which belief system one endorses intellectually. As Pope Francis stood in plain view for the masses to see, he lit an international firestorm that is now burning hotter than ever, with the epicenter residing in a jail cell in downtown Toronto. One can honestly say that when you get the attention of the big guy of Vatican City, something is on the horizon.

 

Seizing the moment and gaining points with his new political football on the opposite side of the Atlantic, Toronto city mayor Rob Ford was all too happy to jump on this gravy train with biscuit wheels. A press conference set for Friday promises to be HUGE—no pun intended. Since media reports surfaced from Santa Barbara about the extradition, the media has now shifted locations.

 

The weekend news cycle has been somewhat slow since last Friday’s news dump. However, The Yukon Blade Grinder did get a sniff as to the word on the street surrounding this case without even seeking it out. One of Canada’s most famous hangouts, the Orbit Room, had a band onstage Saturday night that paid homage to your humble news outlet, while roasting the Goobs.

 

The Crotch Crickets of East Tennessee is their name, but for that gig, they dubbed themselves “The Yukon Blade Grinders 5”. Sporting one of the biggest mullets Canada has seen in some time, guitarist Rolph De’dawg said “anything we can do show solidarity with Canada, we’ll do it! Dishing Vapor Trails is just plain wrong!” after a sweaty night of East TN ass kicking. That’s the spirit young man—Welcome to the Great White North.

 

Admittedly all-American, but now honorary Canucks, the Crotch Crickets doled out their own brand of molten metal, dedicating three songs to the damnation of Canada’s most notorious criminal. The songs were indicative of the current national vibe—a Judas Priest cover, “Between Hammer and Anvil”, an instrumental called “South of the Belt Buckle”—written by the band that day, and the Queen classic “Stone Cold Crazy” a la Metallica. The misfit collection of talented guitarists and a relentless rhythm section showed they belong in Maple Leaf country.

 

Always eager to help musicians get their name out, the YBG was given a video clip by security to share for all of Blade Grinder Nation to see. Here’s a link to the event as it ended:

 

https://www.youtube....e&v=WPUGvlcXLjk

 

Now, as we see the tidal wave of support approaching one must wonder—how is this going to end? The YBG is not speculating, but the Grinders have dropped the hammer on the anvil. We believe Mayor Ford will do the same on Friday. Until then, enjoy the Crotch Crickets, er, the Yukon Blade Grinders 5, froth of anger directed at Rush T. Goober…it’s just plain crazy!

Anyone have a clue how the Canadian justice system doles out punishment? Have a feeling the trial will be a mere formality...a slow walk to the gallows.

[H. P. L.]

I'm feeling "eterosexual" after reading the Italian YBG this morning.

OK, I missed an "H". That's alright. Real MEN don't use Hs. :lol: :lol: :P :P :P :P

That's a fantastic entry bro! Watch out for Lorraine—she's a piece of work only the pope can handle

Alas, we Italians have a knack for highly-destructive women... They enter our hearts and leave only ruins, ivy leaves and a cold chilling wind behind them... But we fall for them every time!

[Tombstone Mountain]

I'm feeling "eterosexual" after reading the Italian YBG this morning.

OK, I missed an "H". That's alright. Real MEN don't use Hs. :lol: :lol: :P :P :P :P

That's a fantastic entry bro! Watch out for Lorraine—she's a piece of work only the pope can handle

Alas, we Italians have a knack for highly-destructive women... They enter our hearts and leave only ruins, ivy leaves and a cold chilling wind behind them... But we fall for them every time!

Yeah but they look great in lace—suckers. Here in Appalachia they sport "Daisy Duke's". Italians wouldn't know about that, or do they? Edited December 4, 2013 by Tombstone Mountain

[H. P. L.]

I'm feeling "eterosexual" after reading the Italian YBG this morning.

OK, I missed an "H". That's alright. Real MEN don't use Hs. :lol: :lol: :P :P :P :P

That's a fantastic entry bro! Watch out for Lorraine—she's a piece of work only the pope can handle

Alas, we Italians have a knack for highly-destructive women... They enter our hearts and leave only ruins, ivy leaves and a cold chilling wind behind them... But we fall for them every time!

Yeah but they look great in lace—suckers. Here in Appalachia they sport "Daisy Duke's". Italians wouldn't know about that, or do they?

 

http://web.tiscalinet.it/hazzard/daisy15.jpg

 

ARE YOU KIDDING???? Million dollars legs? :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool:

Believe me brother, there isn't a hot woman in all of God's creation that we Italians DON'T know about...