You’re lucky, man. A family of trumpeter swans moved into the apartment above me. They’re up all night with their jazz and their swing. With their Herb Alpert and their Dizzy Gillespie. Don’t they realize not everyone likes Louis Armstrong?
@Grover No, I think it’s more about the place of bisubsequentialism and pedantic speedometer in Lower Slobovian poetry. Or, as @Mr_Sherman suggests, an inquiry into the origins and explosive power of present-day broken wind. That’s what I would gesture about if I were being asphyxiated.
Packratjohn Premium Member about 6 years ago
You’re lucky, man. A family of trumpeter swans moved into the apartment above me. They’re up all night with their jazz and their swing. With their Herb Alpert and their Dizzy Gillespie. Don’t they realize not everyone likes Louis Armstrong?
Bilan about 6 years ago
I would say that that’s not the ASL gesture for Whoop, but they’re probably using American Swan Language.
mr_sherman Premium Member about 6 years ago
Are they all asking “Who cut the cheese?”
TracyKlujian about 6 years ago
I don’t get it.
osceola about 6 years ago
The place is nicer than the usual swan dive.
Stevefk about 6 years ago
It must be their swan song!
uniquename about 6 years ago
So they’re swan mimes? Yikes!
Nighthawks Premium Member about 6 years ago
but if a mute swan sang a swan song in the forest, would anybody hear it?
Grover Premium Member about 6 years ago
Apparently, armpit noises are capable of expressing the finest shades of meaning. They could be discussing Hegel’s critique of Kant’s epistemology
posstockhoarder about 6 years ago
What is the air velocity of a swallow?What? European or African?I don’t know……arrrrrrrrrrrrr
Impkins Premium Member about 6 years ago
You guys are too much today!
Satchel,Koko,LDL,Kenny about 6 years ago
Are you guys sure? Their ‘arms’ aren’t really in their armpits though.
Kind&Kinder about 6 years ago
@Grover No, I think it’s more about the place of bisubsequentialism and pedantic speedometer in Lower Slobovian poetry. Or, as @Mr_Sherman suggests, an inquiry into the origins and explosive power of present-day broken wind. That’s what I would gesture about if I were being asphyxiated.