09-08-2008, 11:41 PM | #31321 |
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Dunno.
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09-09-2008, 03:09 AM | #31322 |
Ale! And keep 'em coming!
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Beyond the Pattern of Reality...or Germany
Posts: 8,527
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- "esc(x) cot(x) dx = -csc(x)!" Dennis added, and the wizard's robe caught on fire. "Gosh," Dennis said, "and some people say higher math isn't relevant." >>>Inventor of the Mail order-Assassin<<< And *This*...is a Black Hole - BYE! |
09-09-2008, 03:42 AM | #31323 |
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I see dead people.
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09-09-2008, 05:02 AM | #31324 |
Freeware Co-ordinator
Join Date: Oct 2003
Location: South East England.
Posts: 7,309
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Could be the same people. Dead people do tend to get a bit stinky after a while.
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No Nonsense Nonsonnets #43 Cold Topic A thread most controversial, that’s what I want to start Full of impassioned arguments, of posting from the heart And for this stimulation all will be thankful to me On come on everybody it won’t work if you agree |
09-09-2008, 05:23 AM | #31325 |
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In space, no one can hear you scream.
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09-09-2008, 05:52 AM | #31326 |
The Greater
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Name and rank, soldier.
You can't tell me, can you, fella? I know why. It's because you're Vietcong! I'm right, aren't I? You're nothing but a filthy Communist! |
09-09-2008, 08:07 AM | #31327 | |
Ale! And keep 'em coming!
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Beyond the Pattern of Reality...or Germany
Posts: 8,527
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Quote:
What's a Come You 'enist? -
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- "esc(x) cot(x) dx = -csc(x)!" Dennis added, and the wizard's robe caught on fire. "Gosh," Dennis said, "and some people say higher math isn't relevant." >>>Inventor of the Mail order-Assassin<<< And *This*...is a Black Hole - BYE! |
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09-09-2008, 08:08 AM | #31328 |
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A most filthy creature indeed.
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09-09-2008, 09:12 AM | #31329 |
Unreliable Narrator
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You will curse the day you did not do
All that the Phantom asked of you!
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Squinky is always right, but only for certain values of "always" and "right". |
09-09-2008, 09:31 AM | #31330 |
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Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade! |
09-09-2008, 09:46 AM | #31331 |
kamikaze hummingbirds
Join Date: Dec 2004
Location: Over there.
Posts: 7,946
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i CAN hAS ROFFLED
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The bin is a place for household rubbish, not beloved pets! |
09-09-2008, 09:46 AM | #31332 |
Unreliable Narrator
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Do you hear the people sing, singing a song of angry men?
It is a music of a people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!
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Squinky is always right, but only for certain values of "always" and "right". |
09-09-2008, 11:21 AM | #31333 |
The Greater
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Giligan furrowed his brow in thought. He had no idea what his colleagues were going on about, but his keen sixth sense told him it was some sort of reference...
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09-09-2008, 11:29 AM | #31334 |
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Master of the House,
Isn't worth me spit! Comforter, philosopher and lifelong s**t! |
09-09-2008, 11:45 AM | #31335 |
The Greater
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Ohhhh yeah thats her, the
big dog in trying ta get her little kitty to purr ex man lookin at me like I'm Lucifer cause he knows i will deal wit the case yes sir! if i was the last man on earth I would only take that girl end of search she give a new definition to the word curve got chicks in the strip club envyin' hers bodies like [what!] gives a mass eruptions sit her glass on that fad obstruction tongue game give a new type of seduction I'm trying ta give that girl somethin! |
09-09-2008, 12:29 PM | #31336 |
Unreliable Narrator
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Go listen to some real music.
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Squinky is always right, but only for certain values of "always" and "right". |
09-09-2008, 01:02 PM | #31337 |
The Threadâ„¢ will die.
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Indeed.
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09-09-2008, 01:08 PM | #31338 |
kamikaze hummingbirds
Join Date: Dec 2004
Location: Over there.
Posts: 7,946
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trim brushes, paint buckets, second story roof tag,
what it means to have an artist plug a black hole with mortar. close circuit walk home, broken brick and lease is up, house is open, keyhole empty. meet you out in california, rucksack, sleeping on nude beaches, performing for our dimes and nickels. sewerside on street corners speaking out our piece, we'll till the land with a pulled up parking meter 'til the soil churns to wind. a stretched taffy howl to peacock plume our haircuts, the painted pigeon dessert's a crust of bread. the former melon's rhine and open empty shell, which ones get the poets' bedrooms? and kicks the pebble loose, a sylvan lot, its painted rail, a horde of cricket carcasses.
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The bin is a place for household rubbish, not beloved pets! |
09-09-2008, 01:10 PM | #31339 |
The Threadâ„¢ will die.
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Little boxes on the hillside.
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky. |
09-09-2008, 01:31 PM | #31340 |
The Greater
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