Totally, amazingly stoned. When "baked" just won't do, because it's not like being in an oven. And when "stoned" just makes you feel like the victim of medieval punishment. And "high" reminds you that you're afraid of heights. But you've really smoked the good stuff - you're "baconed". Because what could be better than bacon?
by sean_p November 10, 2009
Get the baconed mug.A bacon enthusiast. Similar to a buccaneer as in a pirate, but a baconeer searches for only the juiciest, thickest, and tastiest bacon. Epic meal time is a clan of baconeers to the extreme
Vegetarian: Bacon is so gross. You want some uncooked cauliflower?
Baconeer: No thanks I Just made the leaning tower of pizza out of bacon and I'm gonna eat it.
Vegetarian: ...eating animals is wrong and we should respect-------fuck it let me have some
Baconeer: No thanks I Just made the leaning tower of pizza out of bacon and I'm gonna eat it.
Vegetarian: ...eating animals is wrong and we should respect-------fuck it let me have some
by Baconeer July 23, 2011
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Obnoxiously large vagina lips.
by t July 15, 2004
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Get the Baloney mug.when a guy puts on a strap on so that he can bang her in the ass with the dildo as he penetrates her vagina, or vice-versa. Same concept as an actual bayonet, you mount an extra weapon at the bottom of your "gun" for close combat action.
"i was a little worried when she brought out a strap on, i'v never taken it in the butt, but she just wanted a rusty bayonet"
by joe moma343 January 10, 2009
Get the rusty bayonet mug."Did you see how the media was trying to feed us that Baloney Sandwich about the election?"
"I've had just about enough of your baloney sandwich."
"I've had just about enough of your baloney sandwich."
by Zurit November 19, 2016
Get the Baloney Sandwich mug.(verb) The act of waking up, espically in the late morning or any portion of the afternoon, and finishing off any alcoholic beverege remains from the previous, exceptionally drunken, evening.
Why is this phrase such a perfect explaination of the incident it refers to? Well, to bayonett a wounded person is paradoxically both wicked and compassionate. On the one hand, the dude is already hurting, and to bayonett him/her (for all you politicaly correct assholes) is essentually just kicking him/her while he/she is down. On the other hand, if you kill a wounded party by bayonetting him/her one could liken it to putting a hurt race horse out of its misery.
As you gather up those cups/glasses/cans/bottles the next day, it is safe to assume you're hurting similarly to the afore mentioned wounded dude (I refuse to add dudette even if I am being politically incorrect). On the one hand, more beer/liquer/wine/mixed drink/anything containing alcohol (shit, even NyQuill) will aleviate your shakes/headache/feeling of impending death. On the other, you'll just get drunk again, only this time on something room temperature that is likely to contain backwash of friends, people you pretend to be friends with even though they're irritating, people you have never met, but somehow have been in your house numerous times, that slut who was getting laid in your bathroom, the neighbor's dog, and quite possibly, your mom, and postpone the incredible discomfort.
Why is this phrase such a perfect explaination of the incident it refers to? Well, to bayonett a wounded person is paradoxically both wicked and compassionate. On the one hand, the dude is already hurting, and to bayonett him/her (for all you politicaly correct assholes) is essentually just kicking him/her while he/she is down. On the other hand, if you kill a wounded party by bayonetting him/her one could liken it to putting a hurt race horse out of its misery.
As you gather up those cups/glasses/cans/bottles the next day, it is safe to assume you're hurting similarly to the afore mentioned wounded dude (I refuse to add dudette even if I am being politically incorrect). On the one hand, more beer/liquer/wine/mixed drink/anything containing alcohol (shit, even NyQuill) will aleviate your shakes/headache/feeling of impending death. On the other, you'll just get drunk again, only this time on something room temperature that is likely to contain backwash of friends, people you pretend to be friends with even though they're irritating, people you have never met, but somehow have been in your house numerous times, that slut who was getting laid in your bathroom, the neighbor's dog, and quite possibly, your mom, and postpone the incredible discomfort.
I woke up with my shoes on and stumbled, still somewhat intoxicated, to the bathroom. On my way back to bed from the kitchen, where I had gone for a much-neededglass of water, I found a homeless man sleeping on my couch. I immediately realized that sobering up would be nothing more than a colassal exercise in futility, and proceeded to trade my water for the nearest leftover booze. I spent the remainder of my afternoon and evening bayonetting the wounded with some homeless dude whom I've never seen again.
by the greatest megalomaniac ever December 9, 2008
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