Archives New! Everything Else

2004-09-24 - 3:34 p.m.


Game on
Because the old submission email account is deluged with SPAM, please send new submissions for Quoted to Quotesubmission followed by the at sign then gmail point com. And please continue to put Submission for Quoted in the subject line. Thanks very much!


From Ebm (Sent by Decoupage):

So now here are some pictures from Canada. There are 10 of them, that's like 7 American.

From Not-A-Finger (Sent by Gabriel) :

I'm a bit tired of all these jokes about toothless hookers, anyway. All you men do is complain about teeth--stop biting my penis, stop gnawing on my penis, stop eating my penis--but when you find a woman without them, it's all "toothless hooker" this, and "toothless hooker" that.

From Drewbearsf (Sent by Anonymous):

Now that I sit and munch on the hard chewy super sticky chocolate covered bears, I wonder if this isn't all about job security. (evil grin) I like to put two in my mouth, roll them around with my tongue and pretend they're mud wrestling for tops.

From Boxer-briefs (Sent by Dee):

We then caught up with the "Chappelle's Show" and a Richard Pryor comedy special, leaving us laughing hysterically on the outside, but also feeling very 'white' in the inside. This seemed to be further perpetuated by watching Christina Aguilera host "Saturday Night Live," as she is very outwardly confused as to her ethnic heritage.

From Clean2202 (Sent by Magpiesnest):

And for the record, my answer involves Jack Daniels, an eightball, and a bucket of chicken. Not in that order, of course. Now, may I be the mother of your children?

From Austinliz (Sent by Heather):

Speaking of church, I went to the porn store on Saturday night.

From Lovefoolish (Sent by Shawn)

I did, however, choreograph a new footwork sequence to Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2. I've wanted to skate to this forever because it's so amazing. Rachmaninoff was so brilliant that his pieces blow my mind. To bits. Tiny gay bits.

From Desert Agave:

Last night it hit me. “Oh my God,” I said. “I just figured it out. Each of us has a dog that is just like our spouse.” Eric said, “I know. I’ve been saying Franny is just me for years.” I said, “But Milla is just like me! Franny is all ‘Let’s be serious and think’ and Milla is all “Let’s talk about my butt!’” Eric said, “I figured out that too. I didn’t say anything because I thought you might be insulted.”

From Dooce (Sent by someone who laughed at this so hard that they ran out of laughter and just sat there and silently shook with little squeaky noises coming out)

For those of you who have been really constipated you know which poop I’m talking about. It’s the one that you can’t physically pass because it’s so hard and large and GRANITE-LIKE IN TEXTURE that the law of physics says, “This is too big to fit out your butt.” But The Big Bad Motherfucking Poop disregards the laws of nature. It defies nature, and it must be passed because it says so.

From Mimi Smartypants (Sent by Zendaisy)

If you want nightmares, read some of this very colorful and very creepy tsetse fly description. "Whilst within the uterine cavity the larva respires through a pair of posterior spiracles and in the third stage via a pair of polypneustic lobes." I have tried singing this sentence to many different tunes, including some of my own devising, and so far "Greensleeves" works best.