A question asked to men asking whether or not their dick sinks or floats in a bathtub. Women have still not received the same answer... some men say float, others say sink.
by igotchudontworry November 4, 2019
Get the Sink or Float mug.by Sotaku22 May 16, 2009
Get the Flop Around Fish mug.An oratory elaboration which exceeds the limits of what most people would describe as useful or informative, or which tangentially strays into the realm philosophical musings.
by 2dois2b February 27, 2009
Get the rhetorical flourish mug.A 7 minute epic song by Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band. It is from his first album, Greetings from Asbury Park, in 1973.
The first verse is about a Vietnam Veteran who returns home and doesnt believe in religion anymore. the 2nd verse is about a street racer who dies in a crash.
the last verse is about gang violence.
much better in concert.
one of the most epic songs by The Boss, and the only song of his that includes the 'F' and 'B' words.
"The ragamuffin gunner is returnin' home like a hungry runaway
He walks through town all alone--"He must be from the fort," he hears the high school girls say
His countryside's burnin' with wolfman fairies dressed in drag for homicide
The hit-and-run plead sanctuary, 'neath a holy stone they hide
They're breakin' beams and crosses with a spastic's reelin' perfection
Nuns run bald through Vatican halls, pregnant, pleadin' immaculate conception
And everybody's wrecked on Main Street from drinking unholy blood
Sticker smiles sweet as Gunner breathes deep, his ankles caked in mud
And I said, "Hey, gunner man, that's qucksand, that's quicksand, that ain't mud
Have you thrown your senses to the war, or did you lose them in the flood?"
That pure American brother, dull-eyed and empty-faced
Races Sundays in Jersey in a Chevy stock super eight
He rides 'er low on the hip, on the side he's got "Bound for Glory" in red, white and blue flash paint
He leans on the hood telling racing stories, the kids call him Jimmy the Saint
Well, that blaze-and-noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point
He rides head first into a hurricane and disappears into a point
And there's nothin' left but some blood where the body fell, that is, nothin' left that you could sell
Just junk all across the horizon, a real highwayman's farewell
And I said, "Hey kid, you think that's oil? Man, that ain't oil, that's blood"
I wonder what he was thinking when he hit that storm, or was he just lost in the flood?
Eighth Avenue sailors in satin shirts whisper in the air
Some storefront incarnation of Maria, she's puttin' on me the stare
And Bronx's best apostle stands with his hand on his own hardware
Everything stops, you hear five quick shots, the cops come up for air
And now the whiz-bang gang from uptown, they're shootin' up the street
And that cat from the Bronx starts lettin' loose, but he gets blown right off his feet
And some kid comes blastin' 'round the corner, but a cop puts him right away
He lays on the street holding his leg, screaming something in Spanish, still breathing when I walked away
And somebody said, "Hey man, did you see that? His body hit the street with such a beautiful thud"
I wonder what the dude was sayin', or was he just lost in the flood?
Hey man, did you see that, those poor cats are sure fucked up
I wonder what they were gettin' into, or were they just lost in the flood?"
The first verse is about a Vietnam Veteran who returns home and doesnt believe in religion anymore. the 2nd verse is about a street racer who dies in a crash.
the last verse is about gang violence.
much better in concert.
one of the most epic songs by The Boss, and the only song of his that includes the 'F' and 'B' words.
"The ragamuffin gunner is returnin' home like a hungry runaway
He walks through town all alone--"He must be from the fort," he hears the high school girls say
His countryside's burnin' with wolfman fairies dressed in drag for homicide
The hit-and-run plead sanctuary, 'neath a holy stone they hide
They're breakin' beams and crosses with a spastic's reelin' perfection
Nuns run bald through Vatican halls, pregnant, pleadin' immaculate conception
And everybody's wrecked on Main Street from drinking unholy blood
Sticker smiles sweet as Gunner breathes deep, his ankles caked in mud
And I said, "Hey, gunner man, that's qucksand, that's quicksand, that ain't mud
Have you thrown your senses to the war, or did you lose them in the flood?"
That pure American brother, dull-eyed and empty-faced
Races Sundays in Jersey in a Chevy stock super eight
He rides 'er low on the hip, on the side he's got "Bound for Glory" in red, white and blue flash paint
He leans on the hood telling racing stories, the kids call him Jimmy the Saint
Well, that blaze-and-noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point
He rides head first into a hurricane and disappears into a point
And there's nothin' left but some blood where the body fell, that is, nothin' left that you could sell
Just junk all across the horizon, a real highwayman's farewell
And I said, "Hey kid, you think that's oil? Man, that ain't oil, that's blood"
I wonder what he was thinking when he hit that storm, or was he just lost in the flood?
Eighth Avenue sailors in satin shirts whisper in the air
Some storefront incarnation of Maria, she's puttin' on me the stare
And Bronx's best apostle stands with his hand on his own hardware
Everything stops, you hear five quick shots, the cops come up for air
And now the whiz-bang gang from uptown, they're shootin' up the street
And that cat from the Bronx starts lettin' loose, but he gets blown right off his feet
And some kid comes blastin' 'round the corner, but a cop puts him right away
He lays on the street holding his leg, screaming something in Spanish, still breathing when I walked away
And somebody said, "Hey man, did you see that? His body hit the street with such a beautiful thud"
I wonder what the dude was sayin', or was he just lost in the flood?
Hey man, did you see that, those poor cats are sure fucked up
I wonder what they were gettin' into, or were they just lost in the flood?"
by E-Street August 10, 2009
Get the Lost In The Flood mug.by bjqueen February 1, 2010
Get the floba job mug.A part of the app tiktok consisting of flops(a.k.a. the community’s name) they’re president is called deborah and national enemy’s are poojah, daboyz(not the group), andrew-ugly tate…National icons-Cupkakke, Jiafei, Nokia Minaj, Peaches. Almost all of them are a part of the lgbtq+ , accept this a religion, very friendly and funny, hate annoying straight homophobes with they’re guts, most of the flops take part in other fanbases
by jhishot July 2, 2023
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