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-   -   Romantic Nightcap (http://986forum.com/forums/boxster-general-discussions/35577-romantic-nightcap.html)

Johnny Danger 05-23-2012 04:37 AM

Romantic Nightcap
 
1 Attachment(s)
Me and my "bird" partook in a romantic nightcap the other evening . I couldn't resist cutting some cheese to add to the mood . Nice bouquet, but let things breathe a little afterwards .

husker boxster 05-23-2012 09:19 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Johnny Danger (Post 291293)
I couldn't resist cutting some cheese to add to the mood . Nice bouquet, but let things breathe a little afterwards .

Your farts?

jcb986 05-23-2012 09:21 AM

Nice bird...I like Red heads....:cheers:

manolo 05-23-2012 01:06 PM

As the Great Bard (the one before Jager) used to say:

"A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind

Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind."

The Comedy of Errors

Johnny Danger 05-23-2012 03:50 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by husker boxster (Post 291324)
Your farts?

Who farted ? Not me .

Jager 05-23-2012 08:41 PM

My birds' eyes are like the setting sun,
In my yellow nine-eight-six she’s plenteous fun;
Cabernet wine is far redder than her lips' red,
If hairs be silk, golden silk grows on her head;
I have smelled countless roses, red and white,
Her perfumes provide similar delight;
But no such roses I sense near her cheeks,
For some reason my bird suddenly reeks!
I love to hear her speak, soft evening breeze,
But hark; I believe she just cut the cheese;
That nightcap had a far more pleasing sound,
My bird squawked, time to hit the ground;
A wine bouquet meant to breathe, tis not,
My once attractive bird, now not quite as hot;
And yet, by heaven, in my Boxster uptown,
Swiftly push the button, relief, convertible top down.

Johnny Danger 05-24-2012 05:06 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Jager (Post 291426)
My birds' eyes are like the setting sun,
In my yellow nine-eight-six she’s plenteous fun;
Cabernet wine is far redder than her lips' red,
If hairs be silk, golden silk grows on her head;
I have smelled countless roses, red and white,
Her perfumes provide similar delight;
But no such roses I sense near her cheeks,
For some reason my bird suddenly reeks!
I love to hear her speak, soft evening breeze,
But hark; I believe she just cut the cheese;
That nightcap had a far more pleasing sound,
My bird squawked, time to hit the ground;
A wine bouquet meant to breathe, tis not,
My once attractive bird, now not quite as hot;
And yet, by heaven, in my Boxster uptown,
Swiftly push the button, relief, convertible top down.

Behold ! It's the secret love child of the Bronte sisters !!!!!!!!

manolo 05-24-2012 08:11 AM

Forsooth!! All hail His Majesty Jager!


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