Slouching toward dementia, 7 (or, my scissors talk to me again)
Before you start trimming that scraggly-ass beard of yours, I should make it clear to you that I am very pro-Terri. So, y’know—you might want to factor that into the grooming equation, death merchant…
11 Replies to “Slouching toward dementia, 7 (or, my scissors talk to me again)”
So what ? So I’m a Christophobe promoting a paganistic liberal agenda and a shameless atheistic gay rights supporter… I can still trim the hell out of goatee..
Would anyone that wants for Terri what they’d want for themselves qualify as “pro-Terri”? If it were me, I’d want to be left to pass on… but I also don’t presume at all what it is she would want for herself. I don’t know her, personally.
By pro-Terri, are you then pro-tubal-replacement or pro-tubal-extraction? Nuance, scissors, is for wusses. Speak up clearly!
I hate it when my tools offer ambiguous opinions. It’s as if they’re so eager to please but overly fearful of offense. I generally ignore their sycophantic utterences. But I do know that when my toenail clippers are calling, I need to take the call.
That’s it. I am * so * adding your scissors to my blogroll.
HA!
Panasonic ER389 Cordless beard trimmer:
So what ? So I’m a Christophobe promoting a paganistic liberal agenda and a shameless atheistic gay rights supporter… I can still trim the hell out of goatee..
Baboonees should leave the goatees alone, and the sheepees and pigees, too.
I just copy and pasted HundredPercenter’s list. I have nothing against you. I took his word…and clearly was wrong on this one.
.. but Sheepees have Mutton Chop Sideburns that need trimming ….
Would anyone that wants for Terri what they’d want for themselves qualify as “pro-Terri”? If it were me, I’d want to be left to pass on… but I also don’t presume at all what it is she would want for herself. I don’t know her, personally.
By pro-Terri, are you then pro-tubal-replacement or pro-tubal-extraction? Nuance, scissors, is for wusses. Speak up clearly!
I hate it when my tools offer ambiguous opinions. It’s as if they’re so eager to please but overly fearful of offense. I generally ignore their sycophantic utterences. But I do know that when my toenail clippers are calling, I need to take the call.
My scissors have already moved on to clipping coupons, I’m afraid. Probably forgot this ever happened.
At least they didn’t call you a Death Merchant of Venice. Which is almost as bad as Christophobe.
Count on Jeff’s harem to take a schtick about scissors and run with it.
Get it? Running with scissors?
…oh, my sides…