Hello again everyone. I have stopped by to read occasionally, and without fail my son is there everytime. Now my son is 3 years old. Every single time I come onto this site he thinks that I have pulled up a new picture of him. He thinks that because of the pic of Matt’s little boy in the toilet. Hunter has never done the pull a boy out of the hole trick hisself, however. He has been known to run around naked wearing nothing but a pair of bright yellow rain boots with frogs on them. He has been known to be like this and to climb onto my kitchen counters. He has been known to run outside like this. He has been known to answer the front door to my mother and her friend like this. WHAT is it with little boy’s? Must they? I know when my brother was Hunter’s age, and we lived on Allentown Rd. in P.G. county, he stripped down naked, covered himself in my mom’s powder, and streaked up and down the street. Is it the ” I’M FREE SEE MY WEE WEE!!! ” syndrome? So grown men out there, what did you do to your mother’s when you were little boy’s?
Wee Wee
Hello again everyone. I have stopped by to read occasionally, and without fail my son is there everytime. Now my son is 3 years old. Every single time I come onto this site he thinks that I have pulled up a new picture of him. He thinks that because of the pic of Matt’s little boy in the toilet. Hunter has never done the pull a boy out of the hole trick hisself, however. He has been known to run around naked wearing nothing but a pair of bright yellow rain boots with frogs on them.
I tried to poison my girlfriend’s mom.
I had a little girlfriend when I was 4. Her name was heather wreathe, or reethe, or something like that. When I was 4, we went to day care to gether, and I got to like her quite a lot. So much so that I wanted her to come live with me.
We concocted a plan.. she and I poured perfume on a piece of bread because we knew 3 things..
1. Perfume smelled good, so he rmom would smell the bread, think it smelled good, and want to eat it.
2. Perfume was really poison.
3. If her Mom died, she would need a new place to live, and she could live at our house.
Alas, her clever Mom caught on when handed the bread.. and we weren’t allowed to hang out so much after that.
Little boys?
Little boys? I just did that last week. The police were not amused, but my neighbors were. After they finished retching.
OK, no, really, I didn’t do that. But I want to. I think it’s programmed into our genes. You can’t stop the signal.
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Matthew P. Barnson