Posted on 02/09/2018 2:43:10 PM PST by iowamark
Well, I know it gets me damn mad when that happens.
Gays get really emotional when that happens.
I could see it, if somebody ate all my crunch berries, but just being stale..nah.
I hate it when that happens. Instead of “crunch,” it goes “squish.”
52 years old and wearing dentures?
Meth users would be my guess.
Wouldn't stale cereal be LESS crunchy, thus making it easier on the gums?
My money is on Smith being a lard ass.
You and the Cap’n make it happen.
Captain, Captain, Captain
... or someone eating sugar for breakfast for possibly 50 years
52, lives with another man, eats Capt Crunch, no teeth.....life choices.
OK. Hitting another person is NEVER a good thing, but DAY-um! WHEN are cereal manufacturers going to make the inside-the-box bags with a zip-lock or slider top?
Beau & I have had this conversation a hundred times. He says it’s too expensive for the manufacturer. I say, BS - it’s because they WANT your cereal to go stale so you’ll buy more.
So, which is it? Hmmmm? Hmmmm?
Hmmm. Sounds like just another day in Flori-duh.
Dang!
Maybe there’s something tooth this ?
Cereal offender!!!
While still in their first blush of romance, I’ll bet they shared this poem:
O Captain! My Captain!
Walt Whitman, 1819 - 1892
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weatherd every rack,
the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up- for you the flag is flung- for
you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbond wreaths- for you the shores
a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
Youve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchord safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
That happens all the time down here.
Just sayin ...
Eating cap `n crunch is like putting a spoonful of woodscrews in your mouth - prolly deadly when stale
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