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Someone's private thoughts, (as a sort of speaking your mind out in your cups); 'that's my opinion'.
(From the Green Day song Private Ale, where the lyricist is practically thinking out loud.)
I'd say one Direction are shit, but that's my private ale.
A public service such as Taxi service which demands pickup via Call rather than on street. The taxi service would still be classed as a Taxi rather than a schofure.
Hello This is Alifar I need a private hire.
a way to style female pubic hair, similar to a landing strip, but it does not extend up the venus mound. it surrounds the clitoris and covers the lips, and the rest is shaved cleanly. usually the remaining hair is trimmed short, but can be worn long.
guy 1: so, triangle, landing strip, brazilian, what?
guy 2: none, but she has a private airport, and man is that HOT!
A poop so large that it piles up in the toilet to the point that a portion of it is above the surface of the water, much like the volcanic islands of Hawaii.
I love the blue toilet water for when i make a private island. It reminds me of my vacation in hawaii.
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A great song by Stan Rogers (May he rest in peace)
A (fictional) story song about a man aboard a scrawny boat called Antelope, in the year 1776, the height of the American Revolution. They were hunting the seas for American Gold
She was attacked by Americans near Montego Bay, Jamaica.
She was ultimately sunk.
The antagonist of the song finally made it back to his homeport of Halifax, Nova Scotia. Six years after the Antelope was sunk.
It's also a great drinking song.
Person 1: 'Man, we should start singing Barretts Privateers!'
Person 2: 'Sure!'
God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-DRINK MORE BEERS! (Originally Shed No Tears)
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.
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Someone who is pushed into insanity by emotional/physical abuse.
An old friend of mine sort of ended up like Private Pyle in Full Metal Jacket...he went insane, but instead of shooting himself, we were able to put him into an asylum.
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When three or more of your buddies each take a grenade to clear a path for you to get laid.
Epicly impossible. No man gets left behind. Bro level 1000. You tell your grandkids this story when they ask you why you always pour four shots even you drink alone.
We did a Private Ryan for your ass. You owe me.
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