16 definitions by Robert Head
A lady, who to put it mildly, has a vagina that bares the signs and scars of much over-use in its time.
Person 1: So, did you fuck the shit out of that girl you keep chatting about.
Person 2: Look I'd rather leave this stone unturned, get my message.
Person 1: What, don't put that evil on me. Give me a straight answer, what's the problem.
Person 2: Well, she... she was a fucking throb-job you hear, her vagina looked like a fucking cement mixer ok, I'd need a fucking tree trunk just to hit the spot in that thing.
Person 1: Whoa man... you mean to tell me, that you... you never took your chances, she's like the hottest girl around the whole state.
Person 2: Well you try fucking her when you're presenting a fucking mountain with a bonsai tree, look it's her fault... I'm built just fine, so wipe that fucking smirk off your face.
Person 2: Look I'd rather leave this stone unturned, get my message.
Person 1: What, don't put that evil on me. Give me a straight answer, what's the problem.
Person 2: Well, she... she was a fucking throb-job you hear, her vagina looked like a fucking cement mixer ok, I'd need a fucking tree trunk just to hit the spot in that thing.
Person 1: Whoa man... you mean to tell me, that you... you never took your chances, she's like the hottest girl around the whole state.
Person 2: Well you try fucking her when you're presenting a fucking mountain with a bonsai tree, look it's her fault... I'm built just fine, so wipe that fucking smirk off your face.
by Robert Head April 5, 2007
A term used by a friend or affiliate of a person who propagates some sort of trouble, using this term is a last-resort where trouble is imminent and realistically is never used by the perpetrator receiving the outcome of his wrong-doing, mishap or misdemeanor on the flip side.
May also be substituted for spaghetti-hoes when a skanky skiny broad trundles past.
May also be substituted for spaghetti-hoes when a skanky skiny broad trundles past.
Example 1, of Uh-oh spaghetti-os:
Person 1: Why is that jock steam-rolling in our
direction, he's striding like we're the feast after his
fasting.
Person 2: Well I got his dumb ass broad into bed and left
my calling card.
Person 1: Well what's that?
Person 2: Haven't you heard what they say about me? They
call me the nerd with the brain in his wingless, NOT
skinless larger than your average sea bird plane.
Person 1: Well *gulp*, which spot should we present him
with to beat on?
Person 2: Well, *points to spot and lifts shirt up a
slight amount* I think I have a slight slip disc just
above my pelvis; thing's been killin' me; maybe he can
thump it back into position.
Person 1: Right... is it to late to refer back to the old
wrongly timed but always brilliantly quipped phrase Uh-oh
spaghetti-os in such times of imminent trouble?
Person 2: It would appear that way.
Example 2:
"Look at that thin piece of spaghetti figured ass" said Wanda."I
could curl that scrawny length of disgrace right into a pasta shell." She went on: "I
mean you don't see black spaghetti hoes like that
none-too-often. Must be hard for her to find a partner,
must need a man build like the graphite in a pencil -
aye aint your Ray the perfect fit!?". "Yeah!?" retorted Donna with an on the sly tinge of surprise on her breath after hearing the sardonic remarks of her portly pal, "Wanda, you could also use her as a tooth-pick what with that 15 centimeter gap hanging between those prominent front teeth o' yours."
You must understand I'd been listening to sir Mixalot - that's why I used black people as an example, in no way racist here people. Hope that was received with chuckles and not raised knuckles.
Person 1: Why is that jock steam-rolling in our
direction, he's striding like we're the feast after his
fasting.
Person 2: Well I got his dumb ass broad into bed and left
my calling card.
Person 1: Well what's that?
Person 2: Haven't you heard what they say about me? They
call me the nerd with the brain in his wingless, NOT
skinless larger than your average sea bird plane.
Person 1: Well *gulp*, which spot should we present him
with to beat on?
Person 2: Well, *points to spot and lifts shirt up a
slight amount* I think I have a slight slip disc just
above my pelvis; thing's been killin' me; maybe he can
thump it back into position.
Person 1: Right... is it to late to refer back to the old
wrongly timed but always brilliantly quipped phrase Uh-oh
spaghetti-os in such times of imminent trouble?
Person 2: It would appear that way.
Example 2:
"Look at that thin piece of spaghetti figured ass" said Wanda."I
could curl that scrawny length of disgrace right into a pasta shell." She went on: "I
mean you don't see black spaghetti hoes like that
none-too-often. Must be hard for her to find a partner,
must need a man build like the graphite in a pencil -
aye aint your Ray the perfect fit!?". "Yeah!?" retorted Donna with an on the sly tinge of surprise on her breath after hearing the sardonic remarks of her portly pal, "Wanda, you could also use her as a tooth-pick what with that 15 centimeter gap hanging between those prominent front teeth o' yours."
You must understand I'd been listening to sir Mixalot - that's why I used black people as an example, in no way racist here people. Hope that was received with chuckles and not raised knuckles.
by Robert Head April 12, 2007
To "go deep" can lean on two senses of the word in my eyes: either a) to go deeper down the field when playing American football - don't ask me, not American or b) to penetrate your lady (or man friend) that slight bit deeper by changing angle or adding a slight bit of thrust... kabang and there you have it.
1 - "Mikey, go deep I'm gonna make this mother fucker fly like that frantic greek child who flew to close to the sun".
2 - ...later that night at either (a) Mikey's mum's, (b) Mikey's coache's or (c) Mikey's girlfriend's place, whatever floats your boat - "Ohh Mikey, way to go. Ohh, phud... ohh slam me hunny. Drill me like Dr. Evil's project vulcan baby, drill me good like the driller killer, ohh fuck me... fuck me, go deep! Take me to the core of the earth baby....woooohoooo. What a fucking rush - p.s. she faked it.
2 - ...later that night at either (a) Mikey's mum's, (b) Mikey's coache's or (c) Mikey's girlfriend's place, whatever floats your boat - "Ohh Mikey, way to go. Ohh, phud... ohh slam me hunny. Drill me like Dr. Evil's project vulcan baby, drill me good like the driller killer, ohh fuck me... fuck me, go deep! Take me to the core of the earth baby....woooohoooo. What a fucking rush - p.s. she faked it.
by Robert Head April 5, 2007
by Robert Head April 16, 2007
When a whord of those little urban urchins we otherwise know as chavs, attack pedestrians in insanely large and hooliganish numbers in order to prove a point that they're "hard mate, don't mug or murk me off blud as I'll knock you spark out" or to just steal a worthwhile valuable item, which may often to them be something that you hadn't had the time to assign any value like a 1 penny coin or a fake pearl bracelet or possibly just possibly a very old, extremely crap, rusty bicycle which lacks brake power, a second wheel and a few spokes - yeah they really will take anything they can and then whorde it in their garbage lined dens.
Oh sorry we're late, we got chav tag-teamed on the way here, so Rich had to kick one of them in the teeth and Sarah let them have it with some cheap hairspray she had lying in the recesses of her handbag.
by Robert Head April 5, 2007
When you flicker your tongue in a menial way over a static area of the vagina, and induldge in the almost eternally fantastic time you're having whilst your chick is lying down proned with at least one raised eyebrow:
as she thinks "ok, I thought he'd be more adventurous than this - maybe the dog snuck in here - ohh god no, wrong, wrong JEV? "Yes hunny?". "Oh, it is you, listen would you consider keeping my vagina awake for me because this tedious tonguing you're applying to my female crotch is going to send me into one of my long slumbers at any minute". "Ok hunny I'll do as you told me, dip, swirl, pull, flick, dip, swirl...". "JEV... I think you may be hopeless...".
by Robert Head April 5, 2007
Not to be confused with creamed rice or as we Brits call it, rice pudding.
"Gregory Yefimovich Rasputin, the son of a Russian peasant, was born in Pokrovskoye, Siberia, in 1872. Although he briefly attended school he failed to learn how to read or write.
Rasputin entered the Verkhoture Monastery but decided against becoming a monk. He returned to Pokrovskoye and at the age of 19 married Proskovia Fyodorovna. Over the next few years the couple had four children.
Rasputin eventually left home and traveled to Greece and the Middle East. He claimed he had special powers that enabled him to heal the sick and lived off the donations of people he helped. Rasputin also made money as a fortune teller.
Soon after arriving in St. Petersburg in 1903, Rasputin met Hermogen, the Bishop of Saratov. He was impressed by Rasputin's healing powers and introduced him to Nicholas II and his wife, Alexandra Fedorovna. The Tsar's only son, Alexis, suffered from hemophilia (a disease whereby the blood does not clot if a wound occurs). When Alexis was taken seriously ill in 1908, Rasputin was called to the royal palace. He managed to stop the bleeding and from then on he became a member of the royal entourage.
In September, 1915, Nicholas II assumed supreme command of the Russian Army fighting on the Eastern Front. As he spent most of his time at GHQ, Alexandra Fedorovna now took responsibility for domestic policy. Rasputin served as her adviser and over the next few months she dismissed ministers and their deputies in rapid succession.
Rumours began to circulate that Rasputin and Alexandra Fedorovna were leaders of a pro-German court group and were seeking a separate peace with the Central Powers in order to help the survival of the autocracy in Russia.
Rasputin was also suspected of financial corruption and right-wing politicians believed that he was undermining the popularity of the regime. Felix Yusupov, the husband of the Tsar's niece, Vladimir Purishkevich, the leader of the monarchists in the Duma, and Grand Duke Dmitri, formed a conspiracy to murder Rasputin. On 29th December, 1916, Rasputin was invited to Yusupov's home where he was given poisoned wine and cakes. When this did not kill him he was shot by Yusupov and Purishkevich and then dropped through a hole in the frozen canal outside the house."
RASPUTIN may also refer to the abbreviation: Red-raw Arsehole Succumbing to Penetration Under the Tiring Interception of Nozzles.
"Gregory Yefimovich Rasputin, the son of a Russian peasant, was born in Pokrovskoye, Siberia, in 1872. Although he briefly attended school he failed to learn how to read or write.
Rasputin entered the Verkhoture Monastery but decided against becoming a monk. He returned to Pokrovskoye and at the age of 19 married Proskovia Fyodorovna. Over the next few years the couple had four children.
Rasputin eventually left home and traveled to Greece and the Middle East. He claimed he had special powers that enabled him to heal the sick and lived off the donations of people he helped. Rasputin also made money as a fortune teller.
Soon after arriving in St. Petersburg in 1903, Rasputin met Hermogen, the Bishop of Saratov. He was impressed by Rasputin's healing powers and introduced him to Nicholas II and his wife, Alexandra Fedorovna. The Tsar's only son, Alexis, suffered from hemophilia (a disease whereby the blood does not clot if a wound occurs). When Alexis was taken seriously ill in 1908, Rasputin was called to the royal palace. He managed to stop the bleeding and from then on he became a member of the royal entourage.
In September, 1915, Nicholas II assumed supreme command of the Russian Army fighting on the Eastern Front. As he spent most of his time at GHQ, Alexandra Fedorovna now took responsibility for domestic policy. Rasputin served as her adviser and over the next few months she dismissed ministers and their deputies in rapid succession.
Rumours began to circulate that Rasputin and Alexandra Fedorovna were leaders of a pro-German court group and were seeking a separate peace with the Central Powers in order to help the survival of the autocracy in Russia.
Rasputin was also suspected of financial corruption and right-wing politicians believed that he was undermining the popularity of the regime. Felix Yusupov, the husband of the Tsar's niece, Vladimir Purishkevich, the leader of the monarchists in the Duma, and Grand Duke Dmitri, formed a conspiracy to murder Rasputin. On 29th December, 1916, Rasputin was invited to Yusupov's home where he was given poisoned wine and cakes. When this did not kill him he was shot by Yusupov and Purishkevich and then dropped through a hole in the frozen canal outside the house."
RASPUTIN may also refer to the abbreviation: Red-raw Arsehole Succumbing to Penetration Under the Tiring Interception of Nozzles.
1st Guy: Argh man She's jail-abit, why didn't she throw you off.
2nd Guy: Well I gave her arse-hole a good seeing to RASPUTIN style.
2nd Guy: Well I gave her arse-hole a good seeing to RASPUTIN style.
by Robert Head April 5, 2007