TRINITY'S 2nd Annual 2011-2012 Icing Challenge

[Shooter]

((((((((Terry)))))))))  It will be OK, don't worry about. I will lighten up on you so I don't feel quilty  ???. You are welcome in Isanti County and as a member of the HBDT anytime!


                      I'm just glad all you can do is hijack my thread and not loot it too!

                               I was thinking the other night about Shooters comment about us jumping 6 holes and having nothing (other then a good time) to show for it, and how it was kind of weird "feeling" the ice cracking in your lungs, like being slammed up against a wall. I thought and thought and, well, it all started to come together. I was raised a good Catholic boy, so I KNOW about guilt, and I've dated some gals who figured out I was easily able to be quilted into whatever they wanted me to do, (Hi Lynn!) Then I realized I actually had the lung pressure shock thing, backwards, it wasn't coming from the ice cracking thru the water to my lungs, it was the other way around, someone was punching the chit out of me, like someone had a voodoo doll of me they were beating on, but more high tech then that, like the Matrix movie where Neo was thrashing around on that table, with that huge patch cord plugged into the back of his head, and the lovely Trinity could only watch as the dude in the suit thrashed her man, it was just like that. I was being hit so hard, telepathically, that the jolt was causing the ice above me to crack, a lot, I was taking on punches that would of killed a regular guy. In looking back between the guilt and the thrashing, I'm SURE I saw anchors, and you guys KNOW I wanted to bring them up, I just wasn't able to with all the beating going on, couldn't stay focused long enough to grab them. Now I'm walking around feeling so damn guilty, about my shamefull, disgusting, vile past, as the anchor looting bastard I've spent the last 3 decades being, I don't know what to do. Even my neighbors are looking at me funny, I may have to move, head towards Isanti Co maybe, where you can be a shamefull, disgusting, vile bastard, and still fit right in. Maybe my anchor recovering days are done, now that someone guilted me and is telepathically beating me, every time I jump in search of booty. I just wish I knew who it was,,,,,,,,
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