Hay, yes that’s right, hay! Hot, itchy, mysterious hay.
Nothing like being subject to searching for something obscure, like a needle in a hay stack.
Hay, the stuff makes men groan and women moan. Lovers in the sticks of Central U.S.A. often retreat to a prickly bed of hay in an old barn to get rip roarin raunchy with each other.
Hay, hay haaaaaaay!!! We love hay at Decent Community. Rochester has a shit load of hay, but no gas stations. If cars only ran on hay Rochester would have a booming economy. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I bet the oils, minerals and other innards of hay could fuel a car. Hay fuels horses, maybe we should digress back to horse and bug-ug-ug-uggy? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure I guess.
Nothing like walking up to a group of pardygoers with a nice pice of hay sticking out of your mouth – lets ‘em know you’re in the business of crushing tons of bronsons and partying hard. They’ll probably insult you and call you a uncivilized hick, but this is only because they know you are there for one reason and one reason only: To steal their ladies.
Hit the hay – that’s a decent saying… I’m tired, I think I’m just gonna grab a girl, some grease and some Oprah videos and hit the hay.
The standard U.S. hay bails are decent but other places get a little more creative with their hay bails. What is hay anyway? Nothing but dried up old grass –something once fertile being used again and again until it is consumed or otherwise discarded.
A nice long peice of hay is perfect for tickling.
In the midst of a struggling economy the Hay Exchange remains strong. I’m thinking of quiting my job and trading hay on the Internet Hay Exchange. I’ll purchase hay on the IHE and re-package it as Decent Community Tickling Hay and sell it to Pornography Shops in China Town.
Scarecrows are decent and they are comprised entirely of hay.
