As Jimmy Jack headed for the can, he told his buddy, "Watch my beer, Ermal. I'm goin' to pay my rent."
by Cap'n Bullmoose November 11, 2006
by Cap'n Bullmoose April 20, 2005
An arse bandit. A corn holer. A turd burglar. A peanut butter packer. A flaming faggot. A sissy boy. A girly boy.
by Cap'n Bullmoose September 24, 2007
An exhibition of speed in Oakland, practiced by extremely stupid people with lots of mush in their mouths.
by Cap'n Bullmoose April 23, 2005
by Cap'n Bullmoose April 23, 2005
by Cap'n Bullmoose April 23, 2005
The mating call of the corn holing faggot.
When one poofter hears another one fart, he responds, either with a fart of his own or verbally.
Rowdy Texas poofters call out "Chow Time!"
High-class poofters say, "Dinner Call!"
When one poofter hears another one fart, he responds, either with a fart of his own or verbally.
Rowdy Texas poofters call out "Chow Time!"
High-class poofters say, "Dinner Call!"
Not wanting to waste a lot of time talking, Armistead traipsed into a gay bar, lifted his leg a trifle, and blasted out a tremendous fart. The stentorian trumpet call echoed through the room and drew many approving glances.
Tex hollered "Hot damn! He's brought out the big guns!"
Lemony minced over to Armistead, bent over, and spoke sweet words to his arse:
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
He inhaled through his nose, loud and long, then continued,
Like a rose embowered
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflowered,
Till the scent it gives.
"You'll do fine," said Armistead as he took Lemony's fluttering wrist and escorted him from the bar.
Tex hollered "Hot damn! He's brought out the big guns!"
Lemony minced over to Armistead, bent over, and spoke sweet words to his arse:
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
He inhaled through his nose, loud and long, then continued,
Like a rose embowered
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflowered,
Till the scent it gives.
"You'll do fine," said Armistead as he took Lemony's fluttering wrist and escorted him from the bar.
by Cap'n Bullmoose November 11, 2006