Blech. Makes me think either of disgusting cold medical ointment or really mushy hot cereal or . . . well, something far worse than that which I won't speak of.
I have a hyperactive imagination. Sometimes it's a gift, like for coming up with a million and one names for rock bands, none of which sound particularly far-fetched and all of which sound like crap. Sometimes it's a curse, such as when I hear the term "creamhead" and I start getting really disgusting mental images.
The Moose Poohs. I like that a lot.
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Step right up and shoot pasties off the nipples of a ten-foot bull dyke! Win a cotton candy goat!
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