dlaing Posted June 25, 2006 Posted June 25, 2006 Two words of advice my friend:1.Bleach 2.Gloves 93231[/snapback] Oh, perhaps you know from experience...You must have a Cycle Garden Guzzi Girl Calendar in the MPH customer restroom! PS you should keep your ammunition off the counter when TX is visiting the shop, unless you can afford to give it away <_>
dlaing Posted June 25, 2006 Posted June 25, 2006 Jeez Tx Redneck, you sure know how to fill out a resume. That reminds me of the joke about the guy searching for a job. When he finally finds one he goes home to his wife shouting "I got a job! I got a job!" She's ecstatic, they've been on the ropes for a while. She asks where the job is and he answers - "It's a whorehouse! It's a thousand dollars a month!" Now she's really happy if a bit put off by the location of employment. Then he says - "I know it's a lot of money, but I'm sure we'll manage it somehow..." 93239[/snapback] Booooooo!!!!!
mike wilson Posted June 26, 2006 Posted June 26, 2006 My favourite local food: my mom's boiled potatoes and beans with buttermilk sauce, all on one plate with lettuce, fried onions, fried bacon, mustard and sliced cucumber as side dish. What sort of beans? Recently discovered that I am sensitive to potatoes, tomatoes and peppers, so part of the recipe is right out, sadly, but it looks good apart from that. BTW, if you're suffering from joint pain, don't assume that it's part of the aging process. Try going without the abive mentioned and see if it halps. Only took me two days, after over a decade of problems. m
Guest redguzziv10 Posted June 26, 2006 Posted June 26, 2006 That reminds me of the joke about the guy searching for a job. When he finally finds one he goes home to his wife shouting "I got a job! I got a job!" She's ecstatic, they've been on the ropes for a while. She asks where the job is and he answers - "It's a whorehouse! It's a thousand dollars a month!" Now she's really happy if a bit put off by the location of employment. Then he says - "I know it's a lot of money, but I'm sure we'll manage it somehow..." A dyslexic friend of mine went for a job at the local whorehouse, and couldn't understand why they didn't want to see a copy of his fork lift license
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