Protect the flock! From JP and Hachette!
What are you doing right now?
Besides posting on here and replying to this thread. Original credit for this goes back to Fate and Nathan on MX.
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Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by EndOfTheEarth on
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Did you have her read Site Sociology 101?
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Permalink Reply by Lamp Post on
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So. . . .I see MX is private now.
Did the mods just randomly do this, or did some drama happen lately? *out of loop*
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Permalink Reply by o0_flying high_0o on
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o.O
Odd.
I don't know of any reason it'd be set to private, but then I'm kinda out of the loop as well.
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Permalink Reply by Hannah on
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Hurray for annoying picture/name changes!
I'm sorry... The purple was driving me insane. The ninja smurf is just... Too pwnsome to let go of.
EDIT: And everybody knows me b Hannah anyways... It cuts down on confusion in the long run.
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Permalink Reply by Captain 'EgWa' Terror on
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"I think it was Donald Mainstock, the great amateur squash player, who first pointed out how lovely I was. Until that time, I think it was safe to say that I'd never really been aware of my own timeless brand of loveliness. But his words smote me, because, of course, you see, I am lovely, in a fluffy, moist kind of a way. I walk, let's be splendid about this, in a lightly-scented cloud of gorgeousness that isn't a far shot from being quite simply terrific. The secret to smooth, almost shiny loveliness, of the order which we are discussing in this simple, frank, creamy-soft way doesn't reside in oils, unguents, balms, ointments, astringments, creams, milks, moisturizers, linaments, lubricants, embracants or balsams, to be simply divine for just one noble moment; it resides, and I mean this in a pink, slightly special way, in one's attitude of mind. To be gorgeous and high and true and fine and fluffy and moist and sticky and lovely, all you have to do is to believe that one is gorgeous and high and true and fine and fluffy and moist and sticky and lovely. And I believe it of myself, tremulously at first and then with mounting heat and passion because, stopping off for a second to be super again, I'm so often told it. That's the secret really."
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"I hate you, I despise you, I loathe you. Everything about you disgusts me. Your ears, eyes, nose, mouth, tongue, legs, knees, stomach, ribs and bottom make me want to vomit. You're repulsive, loathsome, grotesque and insupportable. I want to kill you, I want to twist your nipples off and throw them to the dogs. You scum. You low, corrosive lump of fecal horror, you maniac bastardly turd. I would rather drink stale urine from Norman Fowler's arse-pit than remain one moment more in your defiling company. You filth! You cack! You're the ooze of a burst boil; I abominate you. You towering mound of corrupted slime. Your every utterance is like the slithering hiss of a fat maggot in the putrid guts of a decomposing rat. Your face is fouler than the unwiped inner ring of Satan's rectum."
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"Thou reeky lily-livered barnacle!
Thou art essentially a natural coward without instinct.
Thou mammering toad-spotted joithead!
Thou churlish shard-borne codpiece!
Thou villainous abominable misleader of youth!
Your brain is as dry as the remainder biscuit after a voyage.
Your bum is the greatest thing about you; so that in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the Great.
Thou yeasty tardy-gaited knave!
Thou droning hedge-born boar-pig!
Thou currish urchin-snouted strumpet!
Thou craven plume-plucked fustilarian!
Thou vain ill-nurtured bladder!
Thou fusty rough-hewn baggage!
Thou puny onion-eyed ratsbane!
Thou mewling sheep-biting apple-john!
Thou barbarous reeling-ripe scut!
Thou paunchy shard-borne eunuch!
You are as rheumatic as two dry toasts.
Out of my sight! Thou dost infect my eyes.
Thou art a very ragged wart.
Thou vicious mole of nature!
Thou pribbling pottle-deep clack-dish!
Thou dankish knotty-pated wagtail!
Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!"
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