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When you beat your meat so hard and long that your palm turns red.
Alex- It’s been sooo long since I red palmed myself because I gave it up during lent.
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When you slap a girl in the ass and the suctions caused sucks the shit out like a jet pilot leads a plane down the run-way and rockets into your face. This will cause many more g's than you can think of, of shit in the face.
Danial ask her to slap her in he ass and she recommended he masters the palm pilot for the next sesh.
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Ah, Palm Harbor, Florida.
The West side of FL, otherwise known as the rich side of FL.
Similar to many towns in Connecticut, this place is divided into a rare Floridian partial prep, partial everything-else.
The only apparent yuppies are the ones purchasing the $15 million house on the beach, but if you investigate closer they pop up in schools and about every other house on every single street.
The home of the town with 3+ zip codes, condos and apartments on every street, and you even get a pool with every house more than a quarter of a million!
But at that price, your pool is Lake Tarpon.
Ahh, you have to love Palm Harbor.
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The practice of writing something such as a telephone number on your wrist or hand.
Cletus got Marybelle's phone number, and put it in his Tennessee palm pilot: he wrote it on his hand with ball point pen, yup.
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A euphemism for prolonged masturbation.
Guy A: Mark's been in there for a damn long time.
Guy B: Yeah, he had a date with rosie palms.
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(noun) The palm of one's hand, as used for jotting down notes, lists and/or things to remember.
Sarah Palin couldn't remember her core principle's during a pre-screened and scripted Q & A session, so she scribbled them on her hillbilly palm pilot.
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The horrifying, mutant breed of M&M's that have been transformed succeeding any time spent being held in a human hand.
Rick: Hey Jane, would you care for any M'M's? (Holding out an enclosed fist)
Jane: Why sure! That is so kind of you.
(As Rick starts to open his hand)
Jane: Wait a doggone second, do you expect me to eat those palm M&M's. Your half melted, color faded, shell cracked M&M's? Those slightly warmer than room temperature candies thanks to their recent close encounter with a human body? Shall I directly take them from you as they wantonly cling to your palm? Yeah, check yourself Rick.