# April 2017 Theme Voting



## kilroy214 (Mar 27, 2017)

What prompt would you like to see April? One vote per member, so make it count.


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## Ibb (Mar 28, 2017)

I scream!

You scream!

We all scream!

FOR POUCH CREAM!

*Votes*


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## H.Brown (Mar 28, 2017)

I have placed my vote guys. Roll on the writing.


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## Bard_Daniel (Mar 28, 2017)

I have done my civic duty!


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## godofwine (Mar 29, 2017)

Ibb said:


> I scream!
> 
> You scream!
> 
> ...



What in blue f*ck is pouch cream? I've heard it said many times on this forum and I have this face :nonchalance: - I can't write what I don't understand. Can someone enlighten me?


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## rogerblingham (Mar 29, 2017)

I did not want to be hypocrite. I liked pouch cream. I voted for it. Anything wrong? I do not have an idea what it is supposed to be and I admit that truth!


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## Ptolemy (Mar 29, 2017)

I hope by "pouch cream" you mean like a pocket sized pouch of sour cream. Because if not, I have some questions to ask


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## PiP (Mar 29, 2017)

Ptolemy said:


> I hope by "pouch cream" you mean like a pocket sized pouch of sour cream. Because if not, I have some questions to ask



I googled images of pouch cream because I think this must be an 'Americanism' that's passed me by...


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## Phil Istine (Mar 29, 2017)

I do have a couple of ideas for pouch cream if it ever wins.  No, I've no idea what it is either.  I would just make up something.


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## kilroy214 (Mar 29, 2017)

It's whatever you want it to be.


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## Ariel (Mar 29, 2017)

PiP said:


> I googled images of pouch cream because I think this must be an 'Americanism' that's passed me by...



It's not. Blame Pluralized.


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## Ibb (Mar 29, 2017)

godofwine said:


> What in blue f*ck is pouch cream?



Reach into your heart; failing that, reach into the nearest pouch you can find. Wait until you feel utterly disgusted with yourself and confused about your surroundings. There should be just a little sweat on your brow, and a putrid stench emitting from places unknown. If your intestines are stirring, you're close. Do you feel that? Your limbs are trembling. Your gut is bloated. At any moment, a burst of air might escape from between your booty cheeks. But don't give up! You're almost there. People are starting to gather; now they're staring. You can hear whispers, snorts, indecipherable commiserative quips probably made at your expense, and are acutely aware of just how many people are looking at you. But, god dammit, listen--Don't. Give. _Up. _No matter how sticky the strange substance that begins to creep underneath your fingernails seems, you must keep your hand mired inside unknown pouchy depths. Now, then. This is it. This is what you've been waiting for. Disgust has reached its zenith. Shame can sink no lower. Pride is all but obliterated and there's no way in hell you're going to explain your way out of this one. Almost there. Almost _there_. Aha!... There it is. Something made up of slime and disgust and fear and loathing and all the rest of the goopy droopy nastiness that makes up your imagination and the rest of that good ol' swirl of writing fuel. Now it's time. Godofwine--remove your hand. Ignore the screams and the sudden keeling overs and the boisterous torrents of vomiting and the picket signs thrown your way. Nevermind them. They don't get. They never could. The treasure is yours. Lift it to the sky (and remember to close your eye--this shit drips, and is known to burn out eyeballs). Uphold your gift.

Uphold your pouch cream.


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## Pluralized (Apr 1, 2017)

PiP said:


> I googled images of pouch cream because I think this must be an 'Americanism' that's passed me by...


 
You should never google image search things of this nature, just trust me. 

Axe me how I know. Once, my buddy was trying to out-gross me and kept referring to "Blumpkin," whatever that is. Let's just say you don't want to know and you should not ever search it. Some things, technology has not improved in our lives.    

For my money, I hope someone will write about their pet kangaroo and the cream needed to keep 'er pouch from cracking. This forum is, after all, mainly about zoological ointments when you boil it all down. 

Ooh, I just got a great idea for a pouch cream story! Gotta run.


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## PiP (Apr 1, 2017)

I was curious to see if a pouch was urban slang for something else.  You don't wanna check the Urban Dictionary...


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## The Fantastical (Apr 2, 2017)

PiP said:


> I was curious to see if a pouch was urban slang for something else.  You don't wanna check the Urban Dictionary...



You never do...


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## Phil Istine (Apr 2, 2017)

Pluralized said:


> For my money, I hope someone will write about their pet kangaroo and the cream needed to keep 'er pouch from cracking. This forum is, after all, mainly about zoological ointments when you boil it all down.



Funny you should mention that but my initial thoughts were about a kangaroo pouch.  I discarded them though


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## J Anfinson (Apr 5, 2017)

Ibb said:


> Reach into your heart; failing that, reach into the nearest pouch you can find. Wait until you feel utterly disgusted with yourself and confused about your surroundings. There should be just a little sweat on your brow, and a putrid stench emitting from places unknown. If your intestines are stirring, you're close. Do you feel that? Your limbs are trembling. Your gut is bloated. At any moment, a burst of air might escape from between your booty cheeks. But don't give up! You're almost there. People are starting to gather; now they're staring. You can hear whispers, snorts, indecipherable commiserative quips probably made at your expense, and are acutely aware of just how many people are looking at you. But, god dammit, listen--Don't. Give. _Up. _No matter how sticky the strange substance that begins to creep underneath your fingernails seems, you must keep your hand mired inside unknown pouchy depths. Now, then. This is it. This is what you've been waiting for. Disgust has reached its zenith. Shame can sink no lower. Pride is all but obliterated and there's no way in hell you're going to explain your way out of this one. Almost there. Almost _there_. Aha!... There it is. Something made up of slime and disgust and fear and loathing and all the rest of the goopy droopy nastiness that makes up your imagination and the rest of that good ol' swirl of writing fuel. Now it's time. Godofwine--remove your hand. Ignore the screams and the sudden keeling overs and the boisterous torrents of vomiting and the picket signs thrown your way. Nevermind them. They don't get. They never could. The treasure is yours. Lift it to the sky (and remember to close your eye--this shit drips, and is known to burn out eyeballs). Uphold your gift.
> 
> Uphold your pouch cream.



I'll give you ten bucks if you eat it  Double dog dare.


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