Also
MMMMMMMMMMMM, Leather
Nice coat
Back to Jewels
pretty
I like this
My goodness this thread has moved right along! LOL
PenskeGirl, I loved the pic of DE in the car. *sigh* Thanks.
And the Eiffel Tower is one of my favorite places. The sunset from the top is simply breath-taking.
kat, love emeralds --- my birthstone.
And the dogs --- ROTFLMAO ! ! Can't figure out why people like the Chinese Crested. Those have to be some of the ugliest things. Oh, well.
PenskeGirl, I loved the pic of DE in the car. *sigh* Thanks.
And the Eiffel Tower is one of my favorite places. The sunset from the top is simply breath-taking.
kat, love emeralds --- my birthstone.
And the dogs --- ROTFLMAO ! ! Can't figure out why people like the Chinese Crested. Those have to be some of the ugliest things. Oh, well.
You sure know your dogs and cats
That Crested is almost as ugly as a hairless cat!
kat, had a neighbor that raised dogs. For a while it was Poms, then she went to Cresteds. The Poms were cute --- little dust mops.
*drool* Now that's an emerald that I'd like to have. *sigh*
*drool* Now that's an emerald that I'd like to have. *sigh*
I found that emerald at Smartbargains.com
Actually I do like the Crested, and the Chihuahua.
ALL animals except spiders..........EEEEEKKKKK
Actually I do like the Crested, and the Chihuahua.
ALL animals except spiders..........EEEEEKKKKK
Somebody be brave (pbunch or bucky) and post this pic on the man thread, PLEASE
buckaroo
Here kitty, kitty, kitty
Not in a million years
C
cutiepie24
Guest
Originally posted by buckaroo
Not in a million years
hey Buckaroo...how ya do?
C
cutiepie24
Guest
Me neither Kat, I'm not that brave................not gonna post anything in the mans thread.........did once.........
buckaroo
Here kitty, kitty, kitty
fine!
Hi QT and Buckster
C
cutiepie24
Guest
Hi Kat..............
how are you? nice ring..............
how are you? nice ring..............
Hi, Rayna......lucky you with 2 new purses today!
C
cutiepie24
Guest
I love them..................they are demi purses............cute little bags..............
Originally posted by buckaroo
Not in a million years
Buckster, any man who watches Trading Spaces with his Lady is COOL!
A
AngelPoet8
Guest
hi everybody
Krystle
Krystle
Originally posted by cutiepie24
I love them..................they are demi purses............cute little bags..............
I need a small suitcase as a purse..my wallet alone is larger than a demi purse! then there are glasses (reading and sun), checkbook, tissues, cell, manicure kit, cig case, and all other things except the kitchen sink
C
cutiepie24
Guest
Hi Krystle
how are you? how's your weekend going so far?
Rayna
C
cutiepie24
Guest
Originally posted by kat2220
I need a small suitcase as a purse..my wallet alone is larger than a demi purse! then there are glasses (reading and sun), checkbook, tissues, cell, manicure kit, cig case, and all other things except the kitchen sink
yeah thats the problem with big purse (suitcases) the bigger I have the more crap i tend to put in them............so keeping it small and simple now..........
A
AngelPoet8
Guest
I am ok..I am a little settled down more.... I am just doing my design homework this weekend. But i am ready to go home for thanksgiving.
Krystle
Krystle
Hi Krystle
Why not show us ladies some of your favorite designs! PURRRRRRRRRRRRR
C
cutiepie24
Guest
yep, it will be nice to go home for the hoildays......good ole mom's cooking.........
QT, you need to post a pic of those purses...steal it from DEW
buckaroo
Here kitty, kitty, kitty
We do a lot of things together, but I won't go into that. This is yer wimin's thread and I won't bother us much more.
Love this little ditty
I love Trading Spaces and the BBC Changing Rooms. Some of those designs are great --- and some I wouldn't have in a dog house. LOL
C
cutiepie24
Guest
ok here you go.......I love them.......
I couldn't agree more TRL. Changing Rooms is also on TLC.
I also enjoy This Old House on PBS.
Do you like "Are You being Served" and "Fawlty Towers"? Oldies but goodies
kat, I'm a BBC fanatic from waaaaay back.
Are You Being Served
Fawlty Towers
Monty Python
Benny Hill
Get the giggles just thinking about the Ministry of Funny Walks and the dead parrot. ROTFL
Are You Being Served
Fawlty Towers
Monty Python
Benny Hill
Get the giggles just thinking about the Ministry of Funny Walks and the dead parrot. ROTFL
P
pbunch
Guest
Sorry ladies,I don't know how to post pictures.But I f I could I would show you a happy family.Mrs Pbunch takes care of this computer stuff.
C
cutiepie24
Guest
Originally posted by pbunch
Sorry ladies,I don't know how to post pictures.But I f I could I would show you a happy family.Mrs Pbunch takes care of this computer stuff.
oh P.....we can tell without pictures that you are a very happy family,,,,,,,,you seem like a very happy man, really glad to have met you here........guess it was meant to be, for all of us to have met here and become friends even if only online...
I'm happy to have met each and every one of you.......thur dissagreements and all......just like in real life.......
AND The Vicar of Dilby
C
cutiepie24
Guest
Originally posted by kat2220
AND The Vicar of Dilby
the who?? hahahahhaha
buckaroo
Here kitty, kitty, kitty
Originally posted by kat2220
AND The Vicar of Dilby
:cookoo:
How about Dave Allen?
:cookoo:
CLASS REUNION CONFESSIONS OF A 68 YEAR OLD LADY
I had prepared for it like any intelligent woman would. I went on a starvation diet the day before, knowing that all the extra weight would just melt off in 24-hours, leaving me with my sleek, trim, and high-school-girl body.
The last many years of careful cellulite collection would just be gone with a snap of a finger. I knew if I didn't eat a morsel on Friday, that I could probably fit into my senior formal on Saturday.
Trotting up to the attic, I pulled the gown out of the garment bag, carried it lovingly downstairs, ran my hand over the fabric, and hung it on the door. I stripped naked, looked in the mirror, sighed, and thought, "Well, okay, maybe if I shift it all to the back..." .... bodies never have pockets where you need them.
Bravely, I took the gown off the hanger, unzipped the shimmering dress and stepped gingerly into it. I struggled, twisted, turned, and pulled and I got the formal all the way up to my knees... before the zipper gave out.
I was disappointed. I wanted to wear that dress with those silver platform sandals again and dance the night away. Okay, one setback was not going to spoil my mood for this affair. No way!
Rolling the dress into a ball and tossing it into the corner, I turned to Plan B.: The black velvet caftan.
I gathered up all the goodies that I had purchased at the drug store; the scented shower gel; the body building, and highlighting shampoo and conditioner, and the split-end killer and shine enhancer.
Soon my hair would look like that girl's in the Pantene ads. Then the makeup -- the under eye "ain't no lines here" firming cream, the all-day face-lifting gravity-fighting moisturizer with wrinkle filler spackle, the all day "kiss me till my lips bleed, and see if this gloss will come off" lipstick, the bronzing face powder for that special glow...
But first, the roll-on facial hair remover. I could feel the wrinkles shuddering in fear.
OK - time to get ready...I jumped into the steaming shower, soaped, lathered, rinsed, shaved, tweezed, buffed, scrubbed, and scoured my body to a tingling pink. I plastered my freshly scrubbed face with the anti-wrinkle, gravity fighting, "your face will look like a baby's butt" face cream. I set my hair on the hot rollers. I felt wonderful. Ready to take on the world. Or in this instance, my underwear.
With the towel firmly wrapped around my glistening body, I pulled the black lace, tummy-tucking, cellulite-pushing, ham hock-rounding girdle, and the matching "lifting those bosoms like they're filled with helium" bra. I greased my body with the scented body lotion and began the plunge.
I pulled, stretched, tugged, hiked, folded, tucked, twisted, shimmied, hopped, pushed, wiggled, snapped, shook, caterpillar crawled, and kicked. Sweat poured off my forehead but I was done. And it didn't look bad.
So I rested. A well deserved rest, too. The girdle was on my body. Bounce a quarter off my behind? It was tighter than a trampoline. Can you say, "Rubber baby buggy bumper butt?"
Okay, so I had to take baby steps, and walk sideways, and I couldn't move from my butt cheeks to my knees. But I was firm! Oh no...I had to go to the bathroom. And there wasn't a snap crotch.
From now on, undies gotta have a snap crotch! I was ready to rip it open and re-stitch the crotch with Velcro, but the pain factor from past experiments was still fresh in my mind.
I quickly side stepped to the bathroom. An hour later, I had answered nature's call and repeated the struggle into the girdle. I was ready for the bra.
I remembered what the saleslady said to do. I could see her glossed lips mouthing, "Do not fasten the bra in the front, and twist it around. Put the bra on the way it should be worn---straps over the shoulders. Then bend over and gently place both breasts inside the cups." (Easy if you have four hands.)
But, with confidence, I put my arms into the holsters, bent over and pulled the bra down...but the boobs weren't cooperating. I'd no sooner tuck one in a cup, and while placing the other, the first would slip out.
I needed a strategy. I bounced up, and down a few times, tried to dribble them in with short bunny hops, but that didn't work. So, while bent over, I began rocking gently back and forth on my heel and toes and I set 'em to swinging. Finally, on the fourth swing, pause, and lift, I captured the gliding glands.
Quickly fastening the back of the bra, I stood up for examination. Back straight, slightly arched, I turned and faced the mirror, turning front, and then sideways. I smiled.
Yes, Houston, we have lift up! My breasts were high, firm and there was cleavage! I was happy until I tried to look down. I had a chin rest. And I couldn't see my feet. I still had to put on my pantyhose, and shoes. Oh...why did I buy heels with buckles?
Then I had to pee again. I put on my sweats, fixed myself a drink, ordered a pizza, and skipped the reunion.
I had prepared for it like any intelligent woman would. I went on a starvation diet the day before, knowing that all the extra weight would just melt off in 24-hours, leaving me with my sleek, trim, and high-school-girl body.
The last many years of careful cellulite collection would just be gone with a snap of a finger. I knew if I didn't eat a morsel on Friday, that I could probably fit into my senior formal on Saturday.
Trotting up to the attic, I pulled the gown out of the garment bag, carried it lovingly downstairs, ran my hand over the fabric, and hung it on the door. I stripped naked, looked in the mirror, sighed, and thought, "Well, okay, maybe if I shift it all to the back..." .... bodies never have pockets where you need them.
Bravely, I took the gown off the hanger, unzipped the shimmering dress and stepped gingerly into it. I struggled, twisted, turned, and pulled and I got the formal all the way up to my knees... before the zipper gave out.
I was disappointed. I wanted to wear that dress with those silver platform sandals again and dance the night away. Okay, one setback was not going to spoil my mood for this affair. No way!
Rolling the dress into a ball and tossing it into the corner, I turned to Plan B.: The black velvet caftan.
I gathered up all the goodies that I had purchased at the drug store; the scented shower gel; the body building, and highlighting shampoo and conditioner, and the split-end killer and shine enhancer.
Soon my hair would look like that girl's in the Pantene ads. Then the makeup -- the under eye "ain't no lines here" firming cream, the all-day face-lifting gravity-fighting moisturizer with wrinkle filler spackle, the all day "kiss me till my lips bleed, and see if this gloss will come off" lipstick, the bronzing face powder for that special glow...
But first, the roll-on facial hair remover. I could feel the wrinkles shuddering in fear.
OK - time to get ready...I jumped into the steaming shower, soaped, lathered, rinsed, shaved, tweezed, buffed, scrubbed, and scoured my body to a tingling pink. I plastered my freshly scrubbed face with the anti-wrinkle, gravity fighting, "your face will look like a baby's butt" face cream. I set my hair on the hot rollers. I felt wonderful. Ready to take on the world. Or in this instance, my underwear.
With the towel firmly wrapped around my glistening body, I pulled the black lace, tummy-tucking, cellulite-pushing, ham hock-rounding girdle, and the matching "lifting those bosoms like they're filled with helium" bra. I greased my body with the scented body lotion and began the plunge.
I pulled, stretched, tugged, hiked, folded, tucked, twisted, shimmied, hopped, pushed, wiggled, snapped, shook, caterpillar crawled, and kicked. Sweat poured off my forehead but I was done. And it didn't look bad.
So I rested. A well deserved rest, too. The girdle was on my body. Bounce a quarter off my behind? It was tighter than a trampoline. Can you say, "Rubber baby buggy bumper butt?"
Okay, so I had to take baby steps, and walk sideways, and I couldn't move from my butt cheeks to my knees. But I was firm! Oh no...I had to go to the bathroom. And there wasn't a snap crotch.
From now on, undies gotta have a snap crotch! I was ready to rip it open and re-stitch the crotch with Velcro, but the pain factor from past experiments was still fresh in my mind.
I quickly side stepped to the bathroom. An hour later, I had answered nature's call and repeated the struggle into the girdle. I was ready for the bra.
I remembered what the saleslady said to do. I could see her glossed lips mouthing, "Do not fasten the bra in the front, and twist it around. Put the bra on the way it should be worn---straps over the shoulders. Then bend over and gently place both breasts inside the cups." (Easy if you have four hands.)
But, with confidence, I put my arms into the holsters, bent over and pulled the bra down...but the boobs weren't cooperating. I'd no sooner tuck one in a cup, and while placing the other, the first would slip out.
I needed a strategy. I bounced up, and down a few times, tried to dribble them in with short bunny hops, but that didn't work. So, while bent over, I began rocking gently back and forth on my heel and toes and I set 'em to swinging. Finally, on the fourth swing, pause, and lift, I captured the gliding glands.
Quickly fastening the back of the bra, I stood up for examination. Back straight, slightly arched, I turned and faced the mirror, turning front, and then sideways. I smiled.
Yes, Houston, we have lift up! My breasts were high, firm and there was cleavage! I was happy until I tried to look down. I had a chin rest. And I couldn't see my feet. I still had to put on my pantyhose, and shoes. Oh...why did I buy heels with buckles?
Then I had to pee again. I put on my sweats, fixed myself a drink, ordered a pizza, and skipped the reunion.
C
cutiepie24
Guest
hahahhahaha EXACTLY WHAT I WOULD HAVE DONE TRL..........
oh and by the way...I put my bra on that way...around my waist fasten the damned thing and turn it around and stuff it......hahahahhahaha.......
that was great, loved it.............now was that a true story?
oh and by the way...I put my bra on that way...around my waist fasten the damned thing and turn it around and stuff it......hahahahhahaha.......
that was great, loved it.............now was that a true story?