Who swiped the snipe?

The snipe is my indomitable, never-say-never spirit, and somebody swiped it last night…I’m still waiting to get it back.

Someone swiped the snipe so they could go hunt it.

I have her and will not give her back! she’s too much fun!

I have no idea what who swiped the snipe is, so I’ll just throw this story in here from the Urban Dictionary:

Pertaining to Spirit Airlines charging to use the lavatory during flights, you must swipe your credit card before toilet paper will be dispensed to you to wipe.
While having explosive diarrhea aboard a Spirit Airlines flight, Jayson noticed a sign above the toilet paper dispenser with a credit card swipe next to it… The sign read “Swipe Before you Wipe”, to bad Jayson left his wallet in his carry on.
I guess this is an example of a man being sniped because he couldn’t swipe??

It was me. The snipe was wearing plaid pants and taunting me with Frizzer Cake. I noticed a sparkle in its eyes when we made eye contact, and I wanted to know if there was an explanatione for the pancakes under the pool.

I saw that snipe running down 5th avenue, so I made chase. It was shrieking “ca-Ca ca-Ca!” and flitting back and forth across the street, jumping over cars and twirling around fire hydrants. It even bounced over a couple of dogwalkers. Apparently those very small dogs can sense an unusual harmonic vibe from snipes because all at once they started howling the theme song to The Dick Van Dyke show. I lost sight of that snipe for a few minutes so I stopped to get my bearings. But then I knew I had him when I heard a sploop, sploop, sploop sound coming from above me. It was that silly old snipe sitting on the fire escape dripping nacho cheese onto the awning above my head. Everybody knows that snipes love nachos. So I pulled my jew’s harp out of my pocket and started to play, pwang, pwang, pwang and that snipe hopped right down onto my shoulders. Everybody knows that you can hypnotise snipes by playing old-timey musical instruments (banjos and hurdy-gurdys work too). So I gave him a little kiss and took him back home and tucked him into bed and that is where he is now, snoring away soundly.

I hated my Uncle from the day he humiliated me by sending me out snipe hunting one night during a camping trip. It was bad enough always being expected to laugh when he pulled his practical jokes on people, but I was only ten years old, and very, very sensitive. I never got over it, so any mention of the word snipe brings up some very bad memories.

I guess you mean snipe as in someone of low character, right? Well, i am not volunteering anymore information, Wundayatta, for you take and take and take and do not give enough. i feel emptied. I won’t tell. Shell just run.

@ladymia69 Phew. If you had thrown that one any lower, you would have taken my head off! Who died and made you sniper?

You have made me sniper, with your evasive ways! You make my heart bleed! Oh, you!

The shrike is evasive. I merely hide in my office. But my door is open for anyone who wishes to enter.

OK. :)

Ms. Franny Snipe was a very naughty-haughty type of woman. She took my mind and heart and wiped it away with her many gripes.