Sounds like you were there.
Man, that’s some ‘Annihilation’ type ■■■■.
You could also look up teratocarcinoma. Which is another bad thing that could happen to your family jewels.
I remember talking about these (well, more broadly teratomas) in a developmental biology subject years back. Equally fascinating as they are horrifying.
Standing in line at the boarding gate and woman drops a biscuit. It’s on the ground for about 5 minutes or so and she’s looking for it in the bag it fell from. I didn’t say anything as she pushed in and I actually kicked it away. Anyhow, she eventually sees it, and all happy picks it up and eats it.
How the ***** do you eat it? All those shoes carrying ***** from toilets and footpaths and what not and she eats it after it’s been on the ground.
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“I bought a puppy from here but it died. We have a carpet snake problem. It’s okay now because we have sonars.”
She clearly has a 5 minute rule…
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I thought this thread was gonna be all about leather and dripping wax.
exits
She just got it mixed up?
I had a dream the other night that Hartley got another contract.
That’s ■■■■■■■ weird on 2 fronts I reckon.
why was I dreaming about that and why did he got a contract extension?
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She has fantastic IgA responses.
You know what?? … I just don’t know.
You have a good sense of humoral, Albert.
I expected some pegging stories by now.
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So I took a mate to the Carlton game on Sunday as the Mrs wasn’t coming and I had a spare ticket. He’s not into footy, but he was stoked to go and we had a good win and around 8 shiraz’s to keep us a-glow.
After the game it’s only 6:30pm so I suggest we have a victory beer and I’ve heard that The Royal near the station is meant to be good for pre game or celebratory after-game drinks.
It’s very sticky and crowded and it takes us a while to move around to part of the bar where there was a gap. We waited 10 mins to get served, so we order 2 drinks each. It’s then we notice one of the barmaids is lacking an upper garment. Quite a few tatts, tight khaki shorts and some bullets around her upper arm in a kind of Rambo vibe. Very “natural” looking, if you know what I mean. We kind of nod to each other, as though “this is how we roll…”.
Anyway, it’s then that my mate says “Is that a dude or a chick?” and I see there’s a small stage with a quite muscular lass and some eyebrows and fakes lashes not seen (at least by me) since Priscilla QotD.
I look around to and realize the place is full of bearded dudes (comfortably wearing EFC scarves), and I ponder whether WOB might have given me a bum steer, a la the Blue Oyster Bar in Police Academy.
After a few guffaws in the crowd and a couple of Adam’s apple jokes, the next 10 mins saw this not so young lady prove, explicitly and potentially illicitly, to the cheers of all (most) present, that not only did she identify as a lady, but that she also presented as one.
Horrified as we were, we bailed (politely once the show had finished of course), questioning our judgement on all things sacred, never to speak of it again.
It wasn’t even 7:30pm.
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Thanks for sharing. 
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Thanks for listening 
I’m no prude but the whole vibe was definitely creepy WTF weird…
I only made a very brief visit to the Royal, purely on Mendozaaa’s say-so.
Made the Men’s Gallery seem like an expensive Paris bordello by comparison.
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Hold on, I am a Life Member at Men’s Gallery.
And presumably, at the best bordellos Bacchus Marsh has to offer.