Do you feel it?....Shloemoe can(He's more in tune than you guys)
There's a new personage here...I can feel it in the air.
I believe we have a new member in our member list. It's The Anti-Christ!
Hey Anti...you dont mind if we call you "anti" do you?
We'll have no problems Im sure...as long as you dont
try to like pee on anybody(and your not a hot chick!)
er anything....
Greetings oh dark one!!!!...oh and hey keep yer eye on the dude they
call Rotter.
Having abandoned my search for truth,
I am now looking for a good fantasy.
--Anonymous Internet Sage
...Some men...ya just can't reach...
--The Captain from "Cool Hand Luke"
I'm sure antichrist and I will get along fine.. I sold him my soul.He knows what I want and knows how to get it.He wants just to destroy passersby.He wants to be anarchy
wait? anti might be my auntie?.....noooooooo......maybe a hoTT chick with hoTT licks?.....oh fuck I hope so;my balls are frosted Speak Anti......speak.....I command you Do you understand?
hi,i'm God.I just wanted to ask you people where I can find a good taco;I'm so sick of eating angel food pussy all day.I guy needs variety,you know?Well romper stomper bomper boo.I see shloe and rotter are in the antichrists corner of hell.Be careful boys.I don't want you praying to me for brand new dicks after yours falls off from fucking with the Antichist.Have a nice day.
Its handy to have that little extra for smackin people in the face when they're sleepin. Care for a bonk in the face at nighty night just to be woke up with a "size isn't everything"...eh Chris?
So you are bigger than me then,huh rotter?Lets have a circle jerk and see who shoots their wad the farthest.I came across the universe on day one,beat that little man.hahahahahahahahahaha..hahahahahahaha!Now bow down and kiss my ass and tell my son Jesus to make me some toast.That boy is so lazy they had to drag his lazy ass to crusifiction,some people...he should have just got a regular nine to five job instead of being a rockn'roll star. ..look where it got him..hooked on wine and sheeps arseholes.
Here's a poem Written from the perspective of foghorn leghorn
about his love problems:....funny!
T H E G H O S T O F
F O G H O R N L E G H O R N
S P E A K S O F
U N R E Q U I T E D L O VE
BY PAUL GUEST
- - - -
I said, listen to me, boy. Only the stars know.
And now you, fidgeting in all the air
like you fear for your neck. Still,
you're young and youth explains away all,
except love. My love. I've a gift
but not for this. It speaks like a house fire.
Or a bullet into a bowl of oatmeal. If fired,
you've got a mess. And I do, I know,
and not one I thought I wanted, like a gift.
Stay with me, son. I'm not wasting air
for your benefit alone. I said, that's all,
and walked off, shaking. It's hard to be still.
It's hard to know how to be still.
When I was little I felt I'd catch fire
if I was too quiet. Nothing's changed at all.
There's nothing worse than to know
my smoke signals go unheeded in the air—
she won't look, speak, accept the gift
I made for her. Her going is my gift.
All that I'll keep. Out to an old still
I'd go and drink until I forget it's air
I need to live, air that fills me now like fire
nothing can douse. For all I know,
the ground beneath me is burned beyond all
knowing. Any of this getting through all
that thick head, boy? Love isn't a gift.
Way off, you're way off. I know
you hope it's feathers flying and time stood still,
crowing from the roof, and gun-fire
meant to silence your song on the night air.
You're not listening. That's just hot air.
It's torture. You're finished, once and for all.
You might as well be old rags in a fire.
I'll say it again: love wasn't a gift
when I fell flat and hard upon it, and still,
I won't dare let it go. It's all I know—
like the air or the sound of my voice, my gift,
all bluster and not a bit of it still.
This fire could burn me alive. Who'd know?
Having abandoned my search for truth,
I am now looking for a good fantasy.
--Anonymous Internet Sage
...Some men...ya just can't reach...
--The Captain from "Cool Hand Luke"