He left.

He's at FON.




I couldn't help him in GenPop because of Steveis jealousy of me.

Or else I certainly would have....regardless of what he now thinks.
__________________

Do you mean God or Mossy?...I mean Hossy?

FON? NT is the place to be.

Well at least I'm not Mr. Fucl<ing As shole here.






Yet anyway.

The three are interchangable.

Someone please send help....I think I am lost.

Oh...good one.

If I show you the way...





.....even my predator status won't help me.

'Nother slow day at NT.




Gosh.

























thud

The tension is building quickly in anticipation of the HO Of The Night.

I'm hoping for a real short skirt and fine dupa.....with pretty legs.





Don't disappoint us Mr. Pants.

Phooey.

I'll never make 7246 by tomorrow.




I may fail to do so,but it won't be the first time.

So be nice to me...it's your last chance.

Go for 10,000!!:)

A legion of posters retching on their way out of this thread.






But entirely too kind all the same.


=:>

Well at least one true friend was nice to me.

There's still time.




Don't be a fool.

I may leave a fowarding addrress.






;)

I heard things.





I heard thiiings.

Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say?
Her words are done, her woes are more increasing;
The time is spent, her object will away,
And from her twining arms doth urge releasing.
'Pity,' she cries, 'some favour, some remorse!'
Away he springs and hasteth to his horse.

But, lo, from forth a copse that neighbors by,
A breeding jennet, lusty, young and proud,
Adonis' trampling courser doth espy,
And forth she rushes, snorts and neighs aloud:
The strong-neck'd steed, being tied unto a tree,
Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he.

Stopping by Friends on an Unsuspecting Day

Whose place this is I think I know,
His house is in the village though.
He will see me stopping here,
To watch his place fill up with one more.

My little noodle thinks it queer,
To stop without a friend to me near,
Between the last time off a this time,
The darkest day of all the years.

He gives his idea and to all a shake,
To make sure there is no mistake.
The only other sound's the two,
And they do not speak to the flake.

The turns of life are cruel... dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And nowhere to go..they stay within and with me they weep
And nowhere to go..they stay within and with me they weep

-- mdf

Pies?

Fine work.

OOOOOOOOOO

I am eyelined by this bestowal.







I have more.






Not eyeliner

Poims.

Betrayal to right of him,
Betrayal to left of him,
Shiv in wait behind him
Sharp and twisting;
Stormed at with silence from hell,
While the past and present fell,
He had thought it so well
But did come through the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of him,
Left of the conundrum.

Why does his glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honour the charge he made!
Honour the his light and do not jade,
Noble conundrum!

Finer work.

OOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOO

More Behoovered.



More eyeliner.

Makeup!

READY!



They prepared.



AIM!



They took keen sight.



FIRE!








A volley....sounded as one and found their mark.



A legion of good,strong shooters took pride when told there were no blanks...all rounds were live.




So as to know they all had a proud hand.












The doomed remains were thrown into the shredder.










WHIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRR











His last wishes..




Crinkle

Trash can










..never to be known.

When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me:
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree.
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet:
And if thou wilt, remember
And if thou wilt, forget.














Should have been known I would not go gentle into that good night.

And now I go...my biggest yet ....in my sight.

For this one I announce as over

And to all that same good night

Sh!t.


I forgot:















Everyone else is different;only you are the same.

Very fine work.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Did Morty die? I don't see 50 threads started by him today?

I've only read the last 2 pages but Mr. R. Frost demands to know why you changed the word from horsie to noodle and where's the bit about the harness bells and why did you replace lovely with cruel and, and.....:eek:

He may be dead but he's still pretty damned upset Morte. :p

Tennyson is now rolling over in his grave.

Bad Morte.

I take this to mean you went down to the 7-11 in a bad neighborhood and bought some beer...am I right? Did I win?

The poem is about one of the (many) blunders that took place in the Crimean War... you know, the 600 or so in the charge of the light brigade?

So with that in mind, here's hoping it was lite beer.

P.S. Hope you won. :D

I was right...I've seen that beer commercial!

But perhaps Morty was wearing a bullet-proof vest?

I have returned as I was wearing a bullet proof vest.


I mean because of the failure to do so of two people....and out of courtesy they shan't be named.









They shall.











Witch Thebby and Nuisance Stevie.









I wish to thank posters for my pies and spit on the ones who disapproved of my fine work.











I will achieve my goal of 7,246 posts....in a manner in which I please.




Unless......

(I wouldn't send Mom out for Kosher pickles if I were you.)

Ya just can't buy stuff like mine.

Who would want to do so?

Hello.

Goodbye.