Until I get photographic evidence of our outhouse's size to appease the Squid, here's a picture I took last weekend. See the rest here.
I am anxiously awaiting photographic evidence of an outhouse lerge enough to contain a weekend's worth of activities, as stated.BTW, It's just Squid. To be proper, my full name is Squidward Testicles. (My last name is Roman and pronounced Tess-Ta-Klee-Z.)
You don't happen live in bikini bottom do you?
That's kinda cool (the pic) shmoops...!
Actually, I used to think that Bikini Bottom was the best place on Earth, until I realized it was just NEXT TO the best thing on Earth...I still can't imagine an outhouse THAT big...
Do you have Parkinsons?
If that's that one that makes one crave carrots loaded with ranch dressing, then why YES! indeed I do, sir.
You must have been doing something odd with ranch dressing loaded carrot to get that kind of camera shake.
not doing....just obssessively contemplating...
Dear Squidward,I can't find ANY pictures of the mother-of-all-outhouses.Next time I go up to the cottage I'll be sure to secure evidence. Perhaps some shots of me AND the outhouse. You know, swimming and reading and shit...ahem...I mean, stuff.Warmest regards,shmoo
Settle down... say it with me 'Saucy erect orange things, are not good for my photography'. You should take a few minutes and sort yourself out before going outside with the camera.
I thought that whole cabin wthing was an outhouse... my mistake.
When you go to the cottage, make sure to fix the steps so's not to repeat the misfortune of last time...BTW, carrots are supposed to help with your eyesight, not exploratory anatomy lessons...
If carrots got you drunk, rabbits would be fucked up - Mitch Hedburg RIP 2005
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