Bring In Arms Fat Mummy

The searches that found my blog in September are rather dull.  Have I become respectable without noticing?

There were a couple of rude ones that I refuse to share on a family blog, but here’s the best of the rest:

The Laughing Housewife – discusses the parts that other blogs cannot reach

• housewife feet
• seven of nine butt
• mop on head
• south indian actress ugly armpit photos
• rubbing my hubby feet
• male armpits
• dirty feet worship
• julia roberts biceps
• bring in arms fat mummy

The weirdos are back

• damp armpit dentistry
• two person fart
• skinny guy that looks like a rat and a fat girl that looks like a cow what would the baby look like
• fat rats nibbling toes
• hairy legs fetish archive

I thought that was goats

• donkeys having kids

I totally get why they ended up here

• hysterical housewife
• manky pictures
• drunk housewife
• good looking family
• cow methane monitor
• my cooking is so horrible

They must read the daily joke

• dirt and rubbish

I suspect these searchers may have been drunk housewives themselves

• fny old and yung enterviw carton jocke
• what is interesting for a housewife
• your form elopes with my desirous pillow
• kerala girl full under sheving
• it me the bird.lady my budgies throw out a baby now i have two baby

Is there any other kind?

• boris johnson bad hair
  

  English: Mayor of London, Boris Johnson poses for a photo prior to ringing the opening bell at NASDAQ on September 14, 2009. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

• farringdon mice quotes
• bald speccy

Joke 558

Thanks to Janie Jonesfor this one.

strings (Photo credit: missy & the universe)

A string had a horrible day.  It was the worst day of his whole life, which was saying something.  As he was making his way home he decided to stop for a few drinks, hoping to forget about it all.  He found a little hole in the wall bar and hopping onto a bar stool called out for a shot of Tequila.   The bartender turned around and with a look of surprise said, “Hey, aren’t you a string?”

“Yeah,”  said the string.

“You better get outta here.  We don’t serve your kind.”  

“What?” said the string.

“You heard me.  We don’t serve your kind.  Now get.”

Confused, the string tried to reason with the bartender.  “Look,” he said, “I think we got off on the wrong foot.  I had a horrible day, and now I just want to drown myself in a bottle of Tequila.  My money is good.”  To prove his point the string slapped a fifty dollar bill on the bar.

Enraged, the bartender shoved the money back at the string and hollered, “I don’t care about your money or what kinda day you had.  We don’t serve strings here.  Get out of my bar or I’ll call the cops!”  At this point a few other customers rose up from their seats, glaring at the string and flexing their muscles.

“All right!  All right!  I’m leaving!”  the string said as he backed away toward the door.

Once out in the street the string sagged against the wall of the bar.  He was angry, confused and he wanted that drink more than ever.  Suddenly, an idea came to him.  He deftly folded his top half over and around his bottom half, until he looked like a pretzel.  Then he stretched his two ends away from each other until he had formed himself into a tight knot.  He tore at the loose ends of himself until the fibres of his string body were frayed and strode purposefully back into the bar.

“Good evening bartender.  Gimme a Tequila, and leave the bottle!”  He jumped onto the stool and slapped his money on the table.

The bartender looked him up and down and growled, “Hey, aren’t you that string I just sent packing?”

“Nope.  I’m a frayed knot.”