XD Last night I visited the sweetest restaurant I have ever been to. It was located right in the middle of a swamp just outside of town. The name of the place, "Lovely Bill's," was lit up with big garish gray lights. The seats were bad and hard and the sinks were less than green, but the atmosphere was kind nonetheless. A 3 days or so passed, and then a waitress came up to me and said, "Hi, I'm Evil, and I'll be your server. May I take your order?" "What the...!" I said. "It's about time. I've been sitting here for a 3 days! I'd like a bowl of banana, the coconut and melons dinner plate with extra melons, hold the ketchup, and a trunk of soy milk." My food came promptly -- it took about an an hour, by my watch. I must say, I enjoyed the meal, especially the melons, though I spilled some soy milk on my sweater. I had the leftovers put in a jar so I could take it home. I'm going back tomorrow.
Play-Dough Yesterday I made some of my special mauve play-dough for my kids to dance with. It's a brilliant recipe: you mix in a cigar box of spaghetti sauces, a 1/2 cup of pickles, a pint of orange juice, and a couple of teabags for good measure. Then you stir it up rapidly for two years or until it becomes nice and shiny. Then you bake it for almost a month (no more!) and let it cool. It's a big hit with my kids, who like to make things out of it. My son made a comic strip and a computer out of it, and my daughter made a life-sized replica of her doll. Then they mashed it all back into a mound and started over again. My son made a half-sister. Then they mashed it all back into an octagon and started over again. My son made a camping chicken, while my daughter smeared it all over the plantations and the family goose. It took me a hour to get the play-dough out of the plantations and the goose's toes, but they had a lot of fun.
Oh my goodness, thank you so much for this website.. I've never been such intertained in a long time. I made "The Time Machine" (which I read and enjoyed by the way) sound like a freaky sex novel.
Dear Sweetheart, I lay awake all 2 min. thinking of you, your red smile, and our tryst in the forest. How Passionately, I recall our meeting, how my heart strolled with love when I first saw you. How lovely you looked in that lavender scarf and those two clear socks on your knees! I cherished every moment we were together and it was extraordinary when our date came to a close. I can't say how with a wicked smile I regret spilling sprite on your hair; you were afraid about it, however, for which I am grateful. You are so beautiful when you're afraid. You're ugly most other times. Your eyes are like deep pools of maple syrup, warmed in the moonlight. Your cheeks are as rosy as fishing hooks. Your lips are like succulent grapes. Your hair is pink and stuff like an eagle on a summer's day. Your legs are two teeny tiny hearts of magic. I can't wait to rub with you again. Write soon. Sadly, Your Friend >.>
'Twas the century before Christmas, and all through the cave, Not a creature was stirring, not even a spider. The hats were hung by the closet with care, In hopes that St. Max soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their bookcases, While visions of sugar-pasta danced in their eyebrows. And cousin in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, #l open the shutters, and #m up the sash. thanked open the shutters, and flattened up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave the luster of mid-weekend to objects below. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear? But a purple train, and eight tiny dogs. With a little old driver, so lively and open, I knew in a moment it must be St. Max. More rapid than bears his dogs they came, And he whistled, and protested, and called them by name; "Now, Dasher! Now, Cecil! Now, Bottle and Vixen! On, Child! On Mongoose! On, Shorts and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! To the top of the gate! Now whisper away! Whisper away! Whisper away all!" And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, Down the closet St. Max came with a bound. His eyes -- how they grumbled! His dimples, how hideous! His fingernails were like geese, his forearm like a cracker! He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, And filled all the hats, then turned with a jerk. And laying his hip aside of his index finger, And giving a nod, up the closet he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a squish, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good century!"
Rainboots, sad, smiling on the edges of stamina. Great love whispering in the time of the beach. Forests of worried culture, islands of apathetic hunger. I'd whisper with religion, but I've lost all bravery. Blue, tired, I hang and build my music, But a 5 min. of education feeds all. I comb. I dance. I frown. The tense pokemon cards of homosexuality crawl my dreams. All is rusty.
Love Letter Dear Sweetheart, I lay awake all nanosecond thinking of you, your delicious smile, and our tryst in the tundra. Casually, I recall our meeting, how my heart hugged with amusement when I first saw you. How hot you looked in that light blue hat and those two mild sweater on your arms! I cherished every moment we were together and was damp when our date came to a close. I can't say how steamy I regret spilling chocolate syrup on your waist; you were mellow about it, however, for which I am grateful. You are so beautiful when you're mellow. You're hilarious most other times. Your eyes are like deep pools of tea, warmed in the moonlight. Your cheeks are as rosy as packing peanuts. Your lips are like succulent cottage cheese. Your hair is brown like a platypus on a summer's day. Your eyes are two ginormous rhombuses of confusion. I can't wait to flirt with you again. Write soon. Awkwardly, Your Friend LockerPanda :lol: (Didn't edit any of it )
Dear Sweetheart, I lay awake all hour thinking of you, your angry smile, and our tryst in the canyon. Happily, I recall our meeting, how my heart farted with bravado when I first saw you. How feminine you looked in that lavender sock and those two masculine panties on your ears! I cherished every moment we were together and was sexy when our date came to a close. I can't say how scarily I regret spilling mojito on your penis; you were infatuated about it, however, for which I am grateful. You are so beautiful when you're infatuated. You're smelly most other times. Your eyes are like deep pools of wine, warmed in the moonlight. Your cheeks are as rosy as games. Your lips are like succulent chocolates. Your hair is blue like a snake on a summer's day. Your feet are two tiny trapezoids of penance. I can't wait to lick with you again. Write soon. Forcefully, Your Friend
Oh my, I do believe I just slaughtered the Declaration: The Declaration of Independence We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created intricate, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable pluralities , that among these are Love, Hate, and the pursuit of Bigotry.--That to secure these pluralities , Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,--That whenever any Form of Government becomes erroneous of these ends, it is the Right of the People to punch or to solicit it, and to betroth new Government, laying its foundation on such communisms and climaxing its naturalisms in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Guile and Bigotry. Anger, indeed, will dictate that Governments long slighted should not be changed for light and blatant causes; and bitchily all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to charm, while failures are sufferable, than to slander themselves by petting the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and puppies, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to disengage them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their wit, to suck such Government, and to forgo new exhibitionists for their future security.--Such has been the staunch sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which licks them to escape their former Systems of Government. The history of the present Carpenter of Bastardly Britain is a history of repeated injuries and vanities, all having in direct object the establishment of a nonchalant Tyranny over these States. We, therefore, the Representatives of the United States of America do solemnly publish and target, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Ignorant and Bitchy States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Garbage, and that all political connection between them and the State of Bastardly Britain, is and ought to be totally bathed; and that as Ignorant and Bitchy States, they have full Power to bemoan War, lollygag Peace, prance Bigotries, hold Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Bitchy States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the Protection of Divine Providence, we mutually barnstorm to each other our pastries, our guns and our sacred fatalism. ----------------------------------- "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created intricate, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable pluralities , that among these are Love, Hate, and the pursuit of Bigotry." I love how that part turned out
Alice In Wonderland Soon her penis fell on a wet glass box that was lying under the paris: she opened it and found in it a very dirty mila kunis, on which the words "Ridicule Me" were beautifully marked in chickens. "Well, I'll eat it," said Alice, "and if it makes me grow larger, I can wallop the car; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can shave under the pig; so either way I'll get into the desert, and I don't care which happens!" She ate a little bit, and said whimsically to herself, "Which fart? Which fart?," holding her arm on the top of her earlobe to feel which way it was laughing, and she was quite anger to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and slimy for life to go on in the carefully way. So she set to work, and very soon finished off the mila kunis.
Dear Sweetheart, I lay awake all minute thinking of you, your scaly smile, and our tryst in the clouds. Sarcastically, I recall our meeting, how my heart rotted with badassery when I first saw you. How slimy you looked in that tan codpiece and those two god damned pants on your horns! I cherished every moment we were together and was bitchin' when our date came to a close. I can't say how lovingly I regret spilling blood on your liver; you were angsty about it, however, for which I am grateful. You are so beautiful when you're angsty. You're fabulous most other times. Your eyes are like deep pools of tears, warmed in the moonlight. Your cheeks are as rosy as slugs. Your lips are like succulent corndogs. Your hair is rainbow like a turkey on a summer's day. Your knees are two motherfucking hugeass scalene triangle of hunger. I can't wait to exploded with you again. Write soon. Violently, Your Friend :lol::lol::lol:
