Just like the title states, what is your favorite poem?
Mine is London by William Blake.
I wander through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:
How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening Church appals;
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.
But most through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
I actually found it from this song (that is based on it):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIbIK6NSLNU
What is your favorite poem?
The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes
The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.
He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle--
His rapier hilt a-twinkle--
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked--
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter--
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,
The redcoat troops came marching--
Marching--marching--
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.
They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;
There was Death at every window,
And Hell at one dark window,
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,
"Look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!
The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,
Blank and bare in the moonlight,
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.
Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight--
Her musket shattered the moonlight--
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.
He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat
When they shot him down in the highway,
Down like a dog in the highway,
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,
The highwayman comes riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
Will You Be There - Michael Jackson
This Part,...
In Our Darkest Hour
In My Deepest Despair
Will You Still Care?
Will You Be There?
In My Trials
And My Tripulations
Through Our Doubts
And Frustrations
In My Violence
In My Turbulence
Through My Fear
And My Confessions
In My Anguish And My Pain
Through My Joy
And My Sorrow
In The Promise Of
Another Tomorrow
I'll Never Let You Part
For You're Always
In My Heart.
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
One of my favorites by William Buttler Yeats
From whence did all this fury come
From empty tombe or virgin womb
Saint Joseph thought the world would melt
But liked the way his finger smelt
There once was a man from Nantucket....
MOD EDIT: Watch the Language!
I have 2 actually
If
by Rudyard Kipling
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
The Cremation of Sam McGee
by Robert Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold, till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead — it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."
A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you, to cremate those last remains."
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows — Oh God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared — such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear, you'll let in the cold and storm —
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Nothing beats Jabberwocky:
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
Love's Philosophy
Love's Philosophy - Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In another's being mingle --
Why not I with thine?
See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower could be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea; --
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
Shared by 2 as was a poem i sent my loved one...
my sis wrote this for me
Wat hs lyf taught me, numbr f things i din want 2 learn.
2 b on ma own,2 care 4 none
reality striked hard upon me
showed me wrld as hell 4 luv
doomed wid hatred as crown
i hd nothin 2 do bt 4 frown
me.. cry wid reality stingin hard on me
cry wid d changes witherin ...
Bt bad alwayz hs sumthin gud 2 show
sumthins u nvr xpct 2 be
god always hs his angels sent 2 ground
n here dey r 2 luk aftr thee
n wid 'u' ma dear bro
i believe he hs evn snt one 4 me.......
Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits
On a lurgid bee
That mordiously hath bitled out
Its earted jurtles
Into a rancid festering [drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts
And living glupules frart and slipulate
Like jowling meated liverslime
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon
See if I don't.
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
by prostetnic vogon jeltz
thank you
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army
cartoon you ever saw as a child, and then look it at now and go---
"Boy...it still gives me the heebie jeebies!!!"
For me...it is the Purple Smurfs episode...
Remember that one episode when Lazy smurf begins to chop down a tree, he finds himself pestered by a purple fly who annoyingly circles around him, laughing. Lazy chases the purple fly off into the forest until he trips over a tree root, but after he gets up, he doesn't notice that the purple fly has secretly flown around him and is now behind him, looking at and zooming toward his tail. Lazy yelps in pain and looks to see that his tail is now throbbing, realizing that the purple fly had bit him. Then suddenly Lazy turns purple, and his mind goes blank as he now barks "gnap gnap gnap" and hops off into the forest.
Then everyone gets infected by biting on each other's tail..
Papa smurf finds a cure and as soon as he sprays one of them to cure them, comes a purple smurf to turn them back...
until the end even Papa smurf (the last blue smurf) becomes one--only to be saved by an explosion at his lab...
ScArY!!!!!!
I find the Tweenies scary and I'm 45! There's just something not right about them.
They look like a crossbreed of muppets and a bag of bald, spiky jelly beans...
That fly is kinda cool looking...
For me the scariest was Mumm Ra from Thundercats. Especially when he used to transform from out of that robe.
Second was Skeletor from He-Man.
I remember the cartoon "flying squirrel" and I don´t know what is the name in english of the bad guy, in spanish was "Boris Malosnof" and he was bad bad...
The one on the left
mikechannon said:
Off topic but when I was a kid there was a cartoon called Captain Pugwash for little kids:
It had characters called Master Bates and Seamen Stains. Now I know why I like to dress as a Pirate when I make love
Mike
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
Don't forget Roger The Cabin Boy!
forget the name but think some cartoon movie with some testing animals escaping a Labrador which was forced to do how long can the dog swim tests and the likes
and some other dog
Anyone else here remember "The Brave Little Toaster"?
I like that movie now, but when I was a young child, that movie terrified me. Don't know what I'm talking about? Watch this video, and imagine you're an innocent 5 year old. Now wouldn't that terrify you?
Hello thought i'd put it all together to make it easier to read im still adding but feel free to help add to it
if you cant tell im bored :/ btw also added txt file if you want to add then re upload in []'s is extra info or bits i added to make sense in ()'s is things that were there but don't make much sense
Edit: quite offended by some of the iPad comments on here as im using my ipad for the story and pc for typing
The fat man ran twenty miles round and round until he fell and went to rehab for
falling then he got up and started to dance like a chinpanzee with a very very large
pen in his left pocket, then went to mexico where he dated a rather nice banana in
pinstripes who was suspiciously not what she wanted to eat.
Whilst that's happening far far away on a distant planet where the came back
from the plastic beach geting blown by a mexican guy using a very large thread
closing moderator who closed a very sticky situation.
"Get yourself into a mental rehab" Mcintyre was singing, to an iphone, then found XDA
whilst browsing porn and did stuff with his tiny girl friends hand which was also
another name for a transforming robot which has the power to transform and split into
a HUGELY big piece of junk, which is worthless. Sell it quickly otherwise it will be
an iPhone, then your buggered, unless you dance to the biggest rom chef here whilst
chugging some delicious apple juice, which you made trying to forget about your Apple
with a worm.
Her big headahe caused me agro deep inside my thought about going to get some new
super powers so i can fly to a place where stories end but they don't and continue to
be exruciatingly long when all i want is to smash an iphone over something realy a
work of art like WP7S.
Sink or swim like Captain Planet when he go crying like a dirty girl trying to find
a Golden HD2 party in vegas that had a funny thing attatched [PAGE 10] used for
blowing small little holes in walls and a train that stopped in the middle of the
intergalactic track which was littered with broken iphones which she always hated.
Dark cloudy skies only on Wednesdays or possibly Mondays when there is a spaceship
that used humans for thousands of years as an army to stop apple from taking over
Microsoft Windows Mobile because I love this amazing invention.
Chips glorious Chips wich i threw at your mum with a hot dog in a hallway and
slipped into ROM cooking frenzy but my device dropped into a pile of stinky rotting
apples which i'll eat after, whilst laughing at steve jobs who's such a smoking weed
dude who likes unicorns roasted with sauce on a shiny just washed underpant.
It's about time to watch 'The annoying Orange' advert thats should die very slowly
whilst creating non-lactoseintolerant cheese for his girl friend who likes things
bigger kind of like my big ego [PAGE 15] which also likes tobasco sauce on chilli
con carni and fish and chips in a house with no windows or any apples just palm and
android. Palm was bought by apple machintosh, a stupid brand who has milkshakes and
many cows.However, The cows like to smoke some candy ciggarets on the xda portal and
learn about how to ride starships into orbit whilst eating crispy Kentuck Fried
Chicken and then a big mac attack with fries and mcnugget grenades,whoppers, and
lemonade.
Meanwhile the starship crashed on steve Martin, not jobs, in the market on a sale.
Meanwhile the cockroach was singing with History Maker by Delirious and also with
post man pat, [who] squated and shat on the ipad, which was worse than a frickin
android and palm bad buisnes plan or better put Poop in a pan.
"4 Words bro" said Fallen Spartan laughing his head, Shooting the Armeter with her
hand and then jumped [PAGE 20] out of bed. What a voyage! What a Dream! to the other
side of the world through a wormhole chased the mole through the shoal of sweaty
clothes which then lead to the creation of the cyber phone which killed off
Steve jobs and Apple for good.
April fools day is the beggining to annoy people but its over, not next time because
the oldman died from non stop laughing of a joke about fishing boats and his desire
to feel free swimming in water [being] accused of man slaughter thinking why the
elephant ate a pink ribbon with a text in cuneiform script written in invisible,
about mac os4.0 and it's ability to crap without flushing the toilet and smell like
a decade old.
A new millennium with a giant appetite for apples didn't fill my pocket with lots.
Brush your teeth with a good and very brown chocolate mars bar that everyone hated
[PAGE 25]like an iphone, that people threw in the loo that was nasty just like poo
and like wee little green men [that] seem to run little leprachauns who are evil
No flights allowed due to ash and plane crashes which happened to no one any where.
How's this story going on untill now please advice, which i know makes no sence
but i don't involve myself in any meaningfull conversation [because it] would be
fruitless because he loved all the double posts [because it] help to increase
my post count so i can get 300 posts then get more, nothing to post because a
mod will make you cry for mama.(What the hell are we talking [about] in this thread?
(Simon posting crazy, pimple or boil?, for food or increased post count, no more
flashing, my eyes hurt so i need [to] go to specsavers and get a cool pair of Orsis
sunglasses, Please ban simon [PAGE 30] just because he is quadrupling his post count
haha)
(Feel like puking on this forum because it's something, something green yellow and
blue and that douche called me noobie as well all were once smoke to much simon
posts noncense he wont quit and keep posting read this post Please ban simon second
the motion y'all are mean we are not yes you are why you little amazingly handsome
person you wish buddy like the other no0b that went looking 4 a girlvery very
unlikley he gets love,in his dreams likley to be wet beond measure unless with a
rulerGramatical error encountered stop replying to "the frog went" [Nice try to
start the story again there by M_T_M ] everything i post no frog reply? whadaya
mean by frog)
"Anyway how are you doing today?" "I'm going to make out with your left hand"
also with my HD2 that i use for cooking dinner for my [PAGE 35] beautiful
HTC device.
Rock around the clock, 1 o'clock , no [it's] actualy 3, [oh wait] or maybe 4
when i went to kick (the) steve jobs because of his job trying to build a barbie
house out of iPad's on a piece of broken cardboard whichh happened to have a
HTC HD2 in it, [although] that was broken.
(i Hate braces by XDA forum)
Recieving a punch right at the nose of your very first wife "arhhhhhh~~!!!~!!"
she shout[ed] "pull it out" and kiss my three yellow zucchinis in my hand that i
punch[ed] you [with] in a private place leaving me unconcious because it's big.
(bad grammar again, btw afaic imnsho, speaking in tounges, with avatar accent)
Whilst texting friends from holy tree to a Wower ( Out of idea's hi mr.clown)
and Master Yoda, Shower he took in his pants, a dangerous weapon lurks waiting
for the use on (a hot laptop) an innocent person [and] an elderly woman
who was hot [PAGE 40] he then lol'ed at the age of 85.
Enjoy living in college, this big thing he found yesterday was round and long,
kind of smelly like a soccer ball, or baby even.
Keep her happy for 48 hours, (and) [also] the baby cried for candy that was
spicy and very sweet according to her tounge [which was] used for collecting
more samples, which enhances recreational activities during practice on
monday evenings, running around naked in his house.
(Dang your fast, your just old, but better looking, you wish @ , the age of
50 whilst im only 15 and good looking Beat that, bed ridden always, im sexy
and amazing and every one loves me, high on crack (obviously) and this old
, ignored by old)
The man mentioned in the OP is my bestfriend and also my dress is stained red
like those in my closet that look awful to me and (rock roll animal)
(a mi no me gusta rock musica) potatoes and goats.
[PAGE 45] like llamas and french calendar cookies who enjoy a good cup of
my new senior member memberness.
(that's cheating dude, that's completley right)
Once upon a time there was ( i like desire, i like me, sense made none
mocking you are, forgive me peace, i love u 2,)
Old school stuff is just a joke today from a clown who's named Bozo,
or Mr.Pennywise who makes funny jokes of lemons out of his list of
victims and People magazine [whilst] sharpening his knife [and]
gutting [a] big deer, thinking about stuff [like] the new iphone 4
(random iphone reference??) that was trashed by a gnome.
"Drink more beer" "Out of rum?"
(needs some posting, stop double postingn stop stopping me, you old man, why
i oughta)
Why don't you run like hell outa this website and [then] rush back because of
ORUD.
(whoever that is??, this still going??, amazingly yes continue,Anyway
where were we?, playing this game [PAGE 50], an ORUD is
obessesive Rom updating dissorder, game in overtime , or rolling ur dum butt,
that 3 plus,learn to count,Going party now, well deserved Orb,
arriving from party, welcome back orb.)
Nite, work tomorow,dance all night sleep
all day, Now @ work, i saw something /"\ hahaha, very mature indeed, and sometimes
childish, with some new direction of thinking, whil task 29 phone, when your strange,
strange what galaxys???, thats goors lyrics,obscure reference now, Nonsense funny
thread,)
Miliz is old (why you little) but wise enough to fry squirrels and eat them and
[then give] (gave) them to my hackintosh.
(yo quireo un Hackintosh,) one fine day,( with old men, what the hell, just happened
here?,) withh all this, insane music playin whilst vigrously touching a bald eagle
on a tree branch eating raw monkey flesh till [THE] (he) (grammatical error above)
teacher flunkeed (you) [him] whilst drinking something he doesnt like [PAGE 55]
Reserved for more
One more here
And one more to be safe (almost 200 pages in 4 posts if its completed
Baaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahhaahahahaaaaaaa
Well don Macarony!!! Keep it up
We can have a best seller with that story.
Mr. Clown said:
We can have a best seller with that story.
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
We should make a book out of it....i would buy it
Sent from my ADR6300 using XDA App
pretty f'n' funny.
good day.
hehe yeah publish it nd call it the story of off topic XDA or somthing better starting to some more just got back in
Update now got to page 50 !!!!
bracket () = junk
not mentioning names but it's mostly OG (guests i think), M_T_M and simon_WM just metioning
and were at 1585 words it could almost be a book and 8793 letters
(that might be incorect becaue ive tried 3 they all give me dif results )
Page 55
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
MacaronyMax said:
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
page 55 is the page where i first come in to the three word story!!!!
lol of topic a sec but how did you change your name ??
MacaronyMax said:
lol of topic a sec but how did you change your name ??
Click to expand...
Click to collapse
i contacted @mikechannon and asked him to do it for me!
Cool thanks