![]() This is the 7th installment of Prehensile Paging. Any message you type on the pager contact page appears anonomously on my hip in about 10 seconds or so. You people are some funny folks. Here are some of the more memorable recent pages (in bold) and my responses: |
![]() Yeah, I'm sorry about that spot. I meant to clean that up. Got a bit excited, I guess. ![]() I don't do well with primates. Most of the cute ones are still bitter that I took the "prehensile" domain name. But there is a hot orangutan that seems to be warming up to me. She's a red-head. ![]() Well they were born in 1971 along with the rest of my genitalia. They were surgically removed from my body at age 5. Then kept alive in a tank during my formative years. They were only placed back into my scrotum a few months ago. So, truth be told, there's not much to say. ![]() Sorry, I'm still bruised from last time. But, good luck and watch out for those hind legs. And remember that, to a moose, "No" means "No." ![]() I don't like dogs much. I'm allergic to them. I break out in hives every time I eat one. And I find the meat tough and flavorless. Luckily, there's always room for pudding. ![]() Totally! Some food items' names make them inedible. "Spumoni," for example. I can't eat anything with the first syllable, "Spoo." "Bratwurst" doesn't sound like something you should put in your body, either. ![]() I beg to differ. Ever seen those orthoscopic cams or the surgery footage on the Discovery channel? All that blood and ligament stuff is WAY creepy. Nothing makes a date turn creepy faster than a gaping wound. ![]() You should write a personal ad, "SWM. Seeks nice girl with limber hands. Must be adept at making that fake vulva playground trick. Attach photo of the webbed space between your fingers." ![]() Not now. Wait…now I do. Oh, nope, not anymore. Oops, there it's back. Aaaand it's gone, again. (Repeat this process 800 times and you have a pretty good idea of how I spend my days.) ![]() If it makes her bored, then I'm doing something wrong. ![]() Okay. Expect boils and a plague of locusts. And your first child will be born with a Prehensile Tail. ![]() Heck yeah. I'll even sing with my butt. ![]() Now *that*'s the kinda talk that will always win me over. ![]() The people at the Laundromat gave me shit for doing that. It was so embarrassing. And I had to pay for that lady to rewash all her clothes after my "accident." ![]() "Had" in a sexual way? Several years at least. I always wonder if the Apple Fritter and I would have had a chance if she never caught me with that crueler. I suppose it was doomed. She never really forgave me for that brief fling with the maple bar. ![]() Substitute "first" for "Just" and we've got something. ![]() It's always about YOU isn't it? "Where is *my* insulin", "*I* need to go to the hospital" ,"Get off of *my* hair." Sheesh. ![]() Is that some sort of a caterpillar jab? I know it's no anaconda…but a caterpillar? I feel so…*shriveled* ![]() You should talk with your doctor. The pee leaves your penis for a reason. ![]() Everytime I have a motor oil enema, hear Jon Lovitz' voice or eat an Otis Spunkmeyer cookie.
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