First the good news...

and I quote......

and be sure to oil your joints! don't want some know-it-all little girl avec perky dog having her way with you while you stand stiff-limbed on the poop.

end quote......

I WAS going to immediately go for the quick and easy joke about how EVERY deck on this derelict is a poop deck considering our current location and lack of locomotion......

But I reconsidered, once remembering Momma's teachings about think twice and count to ten before you speak.

I always get distracted somewhere around 6 or

In other news, Ask A Drunk outpaces the increasingly moribund I Love Cooking, proving once again (if proof were needed) that the love of alcohol will outlast an ilxor's love for any other source of calories.

senor steel, thank god your momma's not in politics. we'd never get to fight a decent war! or have sex with elderly former-soviet-bloc prostitutes.

and as for i love cooking, that's a crystal meth site; those dudes are hardcore, if a bit stuporous.

here's mud in your eye (really, *mud*),

hurley

There were corollaries to momma's rules.....

I'll double check but I'm pretty sure that Elderly Former-soviet bloc prostitutes are A OK.

As for the mud slinging, why wasn't I informed of the upcoming election?

i should have known that ma steel wouldn't begrudge a fellow the odd snog with a burley burlap-hosed комисса́рette. i'll send her a bottle of the good stuff . . . as soon as i'm done using it to remove the stains from my dog-fur ushanka.

as for the election, we pushed through the usual slate. didn't see a need to wake you; the drool cups were well below the six gill mark.

and the sherbet was much appreciated, if not used in the traditional way by any means.

all the better to see you with my dear,

hurley

In some cultures Sherbet is used as currency.

So if you managed to "trade" it for a bite of something here or there then good on ya! My what big EARS you have and all that? wink wink nod nod say no more.

My title isn't intended to be as pretentious as it sounds. It comes with the territory and I do enjoy it so.

all the scuttling roused me, at least long enough to tug the dude's beard. i hope you know, dearest dude, that such pretenses are wholly unnecessary in these liberal precincts. but happy for any feminine presence, i suppose. drool cups decanted lovingly into the beer barrel, joints oiled, auto-pilot calibrated, blissium dispensed. back to my slumbers.

Good. You were disturbing the dust bunnies.

... I can tell by their expressions.

They'll settled down a bit, now. But they still seem skittish.

I'm suspecting it's high time I pottered back, or I've pottered back and am highly suspect. At this distance it's nearly impossible to tell.

pottered back. Is that like jugged hare?

slightly more mustard

That's what they said in the studio, too.