A while back, my twitter friend and blogger Debbie Ohi, aka @inkyelbows, suggested I start the Rusty Beaver Awards. These are for humorous, somewhat salacious, tweets (Double entendre earns extra points). Like Inky Elbows Golden Marmot awards, there are no physical prizes – just bragging rights. So without further ado… The Rusty Beavers:
My husbands death is going to make an awesome country song someday. #Mommysjokingkids!
I need a resort. Room service. Massage. Liquid breakfast. And a pony. Named Rufus.
Now that the novelty of having new boobs has worn off, I want to deflate them, and use them only periodically for fun, like a jump castle.
@memith But, if I were pineapples, I’d be tasty, and I’d want to eat myself. Wait a minute…THAT’S DIRTY!!!
Guys, stop all acting like Sarah Palin repulses you. You know you’d do her. Just be gentle with the muzzle. Make her wear spiked boots.
I avoid the promiscuous use of acronyms. Because many of them are sexually transmitted diseases.