For all of you unaffiliated Jews out there reading the Smart Bitches, I’d like to invite you to join my synagogue, here in Jersey. Sure, it might be a commute to High Holiday services next month if you’re, say, in Kansas, but it’ll be worth it.
Why?
Because I just got an email from the synagogue office advertising the “FIRST ANNUAL HONEY POT FUNDRAISER!”
Now, in all seriousness, they’re sending out pots of honey and bags of apples for Rosh Hashanah, because those are the traditional foods of the Jewish New Year (along with round foods, like round bread and, in my case, cupcakes).
But in the mind of a Smart Bitch, I start thinking of erupting man volcanoes, salmon headed upstream, and pendulous orbs ejaculating hallelujahs, particularly when I read this phrase: “You can wish your friends, family and the entire community a Sweet New Year by sending them a honey pot!”
The men will be thrilled.
I hope they send the whole woman along with the honey pot, otherwise there will be dripping, which as we know, is a no-no, although it does raise the question of the rates for freight shipping…
Oh my. Our synagogue is always looking for new fundraising ideas and this could be a lot more fun than selling honey cakes for Rosh Hashanna.[g]
Especially if packaged in a bodice-ripping cover with winking nipples and harderend purple-headed soldiers!
Memo to self…must remember to NOT drink iced coffee when reading smartbitches.
He dipped his cucumber in her honeypot. The sticky sweetness had him moaning in ecstasy.
I just really hope A: it’s not creamy honey and B: The honey pot ain’t leaking.
I wonder if sending a leaky honeypot to a throbbing member on another continent will send up any warning flags with customs…
oh gawd that’s wrong…aaaaaa….*brain explodes*
That ranks right up there with a major faux pas at a family barbeque last weekend. We were having barbequed prime rib (which was delicious, btw) when someone asked my cousin if she had remembered to get any horseradish.
Happily my cousin held up the jar of horseradish and proclaimed that she had purchased the best and said the brand name. Of course what she said was “Yes, I have creamy Beaver.”
That put me in mind of the old joke my Grammie used to tell.
Ahem…
There was a newly ordained young priest about to give his first mass and was gripped by a case of nerves. The older Father gave him some advice.
“Have a bit of a slug before you go out, to calm your nerves,” the old priest advised.
So the young priest goes out and delivers mass, after he askes his mentor, “Well how did I do?”
The old man smiles and says, “Well a few things…
You should sip the whiskey…
It’s The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit, not Big Daddy, Junior and the Spook.
And There’s going to be a Taffy pulling party at St. Peters, not A Peter Pulling Party at St. Taffy’s.
But other than that, son you did fine…”
No wonder I quit going to church after Gran died… it was never as much fun.
Oh my. Rosh Hashona has gotten a LOT more fun than I remember from my temple days.
Maybe I should go back…
Why, oh why can I see this as the title of a spam mail?
Now I have a “Dem Bones” earworm!
Eve got the apple, and Adam got the core.
Honey pot
Round challah, almost “breast-like”
Hmmm… Obviously, we’re supposed to celebrate the New Year with plenty of sweet, sticky sex! *slaps head*
Oh wait…how’s that different from secular New Year?
Those BBG girls were always soooo tight with their honey pots. After a while, I gave up on ‘em.
Sounds like a blast, Sarah 😉
Like someone mentioned in the petit mort topic honey pots also make me think of Winnie the Pooh always dippin’ in to the honey pots … disturbing.
We’ve had the Tao of Pooh. Is Tantric Pooh next?
And what’s up with Tigger and all that…bouncing…on that preternatural springy “tail.” PWP=Porn With Pooh. 😉
Porn with Pooh? That is just so wrong. There are some boundaries that just.can’t.be.crossed. 😉
I was laughing so hard the guy I live with had to come in & see what all the fuss was about.
WTF? My Jewish boyfriends in college always led me to believe they wanted Catholic girls because it was much easier to slide the lids off their pots. Was I being had…so to speak?
(Excuse me, I must go to Confession now.)