Those carolers are likely being paid, you realize?
Oh yeah. I ain't singing for free.
Unless it's drunken karaoke.
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Those carolers are likely being paid, you realize?
Oh yeah. I ain't singing for free.
Unless it's drunken karaoke.
That's why most of the medical (not socio-spiritual) blame for today's rise in homosexuality must fall upon the rise in soy formula and other soy products.
Wouldn't soy products unlesbicize lesbians though?
Soy is feminizing, and commonly leads to a decrease in the size of the penis, sexual confusion and homosexuality. That's why most of the medical (not socio-spiritual) blame for today's rise in homosexuality must fall upon the rise in soy formula and other soy products.
Wow. Just...wow.
(Not that I'm surprised, coming from WND, but still...)
'm tempted to follow in their wake and hand them implements of destruction--matches, fire extinguishes, whipped cream and the like.
If they're scientists, they could probably use some liquid nitrogen....
Waiting for the follow-up stories:
All Prius owners gay
Vegetarianism linked to homosexuality
Report: Coasts hotbeds of homo activity
There is a time and place for carollers. My workplace is not one of them.
Wouldn't soy products unlesbicize lesbians though?
This is what I was wondering.
I always liked caroling as a kid, but I just like singing.
Probably my favorite Christmas song is the Carol of the Bells, but I think I just like the irony of its minor key and that it sounds more like something that belongs in a horror movie.
Sometimes Christmas carols baffle me though. Best case in point, the song "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year."
There'll be scary ghost stories and tales of the glories
of Christmases long long ago....
Um, who tells scary ghost stories at Christmas?
they could probably use some liquid nitrogen....
Oh, yeah . . .
Um, who tells scary ghost stories at Christmas?
Charles Dickens.
Duh.