dragoonson

I think only Harri has 3 balls in this forum.Even Pompey doesn't have any more.

Too bad their drummer had a brain hemorrhage in 1999. I picked up a dual disk version of Necroticism: Descanting the Insalubrious (listening to it now) with a documentary on it and you can see how slow he's become with his speech, etc. As a result, he doesn't drum for them any more. As I understand it, he is working on getting back into the drumming, though. inorite?That is a bloody hard song to drum,lol.Even with 3 kick drum pedals (as opposed to 2 :twss: ) its hard,can't imagine how he managed.Also,good luck Langzor. Elephant Man-Mastodon.I start to love them.

Mlb,I want to welcome you back into the light of awesome. I want my computer to have optimal gaming capabilities for Christ's mass.

Just so you guys know,I plan on taking one of yo pixels.Will ask,of course.

Giggity goo. Sending Subliminal Messages

that just ruined the game. jerk. You just made me lose,asshat.

After dinner I will finish it,jeez.I already know what to write,I'm just too hungry for it.

I lol'd. Let me introduce all those who think RS has died to a brilliant game.Its called IRL.I play on the Singaporean server,but meh.Its great,the only things that suck are the crappy spawn time,and the long tutorial.Its hard to level up too,I hear few people cross level 90.

I don't see why you named this topic creative insults,since yours are way older than your mom,and God knows your mom is old.Back when she was young,rainbows were black and white.

0/10.Who the [bleep]?

All the Saints-Vembark.Its a Singaporean band,no doubt none of you have heard them. All the saints keep coming to me, They all suck up to God's holy [bleep], All this sex for free, AND ITS AAAAAAALL FFFFOOOOOOOR ME It then goes on to say how girl in question got to such a position,but yea its cool.Makes you feel sexy and blasphemous if you sing along.

I immediately had an image of ALL ABOARD THE FAILBOAT. Fut sir,I'll pay a [bleep] for a [bleep] in the futt.I wanna do it in my futt,in my futt.

Since I am extraordinarily bored,and just refreshed in how much I love writing diaries,Bledmir has another entry today.Incomp. Page 4, Diary of Bledmir Keltoff, Volume Three Day 27, month 5, 27th year of Felston Elfday, Rain. The strangest thing occured today. I was out on an errand, and I decided to venture to the "magic" shop, just to see if old Jenkels has any new pranks. As you know, to get there from the palace grounds I have to pass through Gangland. That, for sake of future records, is where His Majesty, in his infinite wisdom, has seen fit to allow gangs to live. Anyway, as I passed an alley,I was suddenly ambushed from behind!

Also,people grow third testicles!

:lol: You like our weather yet? The freezing air sticks to your face and pinches you, its pretty terrible. Yeah.The fun part is yesterday it was -4.Today it was supposed to be -16.Its -30,thanks to snow and wind.

I thought of that too,then the thought of eating babies reminded me of Kronos,then reminded me of myself.

Iron Maiden made my mouth water.

In which case; The point Your head

Son of Rambo,on the plane to Montréal.

[/hide] [hide=Dragoonson]Oriel groaned.He had regained consciousness only recently and almost immediately had his head willing itself to implode.The aching was terrible,it felt similar to being assaulted by six men with clubs,maybe worse.Something seemed to be missing,he couldn't place it,but there was that feeling. He struggled to focus his mind,struggled to block out the incessant pounding in his head,struggled to remember where he was,or at least how long he had been here.All he drew was uncertainty,there had been no interaction between him or anybody else to his knowledge,and he could barely see far past his legs,save for a light somewhere beyond his reach.In fact,it seemed the only thing that existed was himself,and even that was hardly certain. He blinked,and now he could see clearly the light came from behind some bars,and it rested on a table.Half-expecting he would be restrained in some way,he raised his hand to rub his throbbing temples.His hand's sudden refusal to reach all the way without moving the other,along with a clanking of chains,proved his expectations true. A sudden thud,the product of iron striking stone resonated into the cell,startling him back into a more alert state.Still seated on the floor,he scampered in retreat of the light.Once more the sound of the striking entered his cell,louder this time.All aches and pains forgotten,he reached to the dagger on his belt.Missing.The realisation of figuring out at least one of the mysteries,however,was outweighed by the possibility of death.He struggled to move further back into his cell,arms flailing in the process. He was hit in the face by something,it hadn't hit hard enough to have been from an assailant.Perplexed,he thought about for a second or two until he realised how far apart his hands were-he had slipped free of the manacles! He stepped through the doorway,which presumably opened while he was preoccupied with getting away.He hardly noticed it,however,and gingerly picked up the lantern,convinced the handle would give way to rust and break.Before turning away,he noted a book on the table.Curiousity took over and he moved closer to read it.The tome seemed to be antique,its binding frayed.It was untitled.Carefully lifting the cover,he studied the content. It seemed to him that it was a diary,albeit one with very few posts.The handwriting gave him a sense of déja vu,and though slightly messy,Oriel found himself able to read it with relative ease. Day 1,at the house. Totally empty.I have thought over why why I took the contract,but besides good pay,I found no reason.Its late,I'm tired.Normally I'd have obeyed the instructions given not to sleep in the bedrooms upstairs,but the only alternatives are hardly comfortable to sleep.For reference,my alternatives are the dungeon,the study and the sitting area.Not ideal.This house,by the way,creeps me out.Every painting,every wall seems to watch you. Day 2,still at the house. Couldn't sleep much.Damn walls still watch me.I could've sworn something was moving around the house,but they made no sound,so it could've just been a shadow.Forget upstairs,we'll go with the dungeon.I have to check if I missed anything in the house,so I might as well.This place is freaky,it feels like something is creeping around.Those rules he listed,I better follow them. Don't sleep in the bedrooms upstairs. Don't touch any of the black books in the study. Don't touch the glass after dark. Don't stare at the walls. These make no sense,but since the last time I broke a rule I didn't like it,I'll adhere to them.Will leave tomorrow. Day 3,still at the house,dammit. Dungeon is cold,can barely think.Almost forgot I'm supposed to leave today.This was a waste of time,nothing is left in the house.Might've touched a black book,too.Can't be horrible,right?Should leave,hopefully Gendello hasn|(The expected apostrophe has been replaced by a jagged line,as if the writer was in a struggle in the midst of writing.All the text after this has been written in a more rough font)You will not leave.You will stay.Forget,remember,live,die.I will watch you always.I will make you stay.I will torment you.ARISHNETHA K'THUN ARISHNETHA K'THAKNA O-SIL RGUSH TLI'AST. DGRUSKNA ISK-ISK HARGRUUMTS NAVENDIS ORASHK- Oriel quickly shut the book,he hadn't realised he'd been reading aloud,and that he was shouting the foul language.The words were alien to him,they scared him to the point he could barely stand.He looked at the tome absently.He had read it,but all the contents seemed to have slipped his mind.Ignoring his instinct to re-read it,he climbed the winding staircase afore him. He found himself a hallway,presumably the entrance hall.Looking up,he noticed the ceiling was entirely glass,albeit stained,translucent glass.There was one clear,transparent circle in the midst of all the stained dark blue,however,and it seemed to Oriel that it was some sort of focal lens.A shift in the light source-presumably Oriel had moved the lantern in his awe-caused the light pouring through the lens to flicker and,for a moment Oriel saw the most horrifying vision he had ever seen.It was like staring into hell,finding your dead self waving back at you as he ate his own brain,and reaching for yours when he finished-all in a second. He blinked.He looked back at the lens,thinking to himself it could make some beautiful images when the light passed from the right angles,though he knew not why he thought that.Shrugging,he turned and headed back to his cell,placing the lantern-which was now flickering out-back on the desk.He lay his head on his arms,and fell into a deep slumber. Oriel groaned.He awoke with a painful migraine and a strange sense of déja vu.The sort you get when mugged by the same group of people twice.[/hide]

A Led Zeppelin Cannot Fly.But They Make Us Cry.

Actually I hear 6packs are more due to absence of fat at the stomach than presence of muscle.Both must occur,but absence of fat is more important.I think it was fight science or something on Nat Geo.

Actually,forget getting a 6 pack.Get a 2l bottle.

I want to fill my children's names with FNORDs,see how long it'll take for Xebethcthulu to realise.

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