Necromagus

Wait just a few more weeks and get The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princes for the cube.

Why not the full rhyme at least? Remember remember the 5th of November, The Gunpowder, Treason and Plot, I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent to blow up the King and the Parliament. Three score barrels of powder below, Poor old England to overthrow: By God's providence he was catch'd With a dark lantern and burning match. Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring. Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King! Hip hip hoorah! A penny loaf to feed the Pope. A farthing o' cheese to choke him. A pint of beer to rinse it down. A [bleep] of sticks to burn him. Burn him in a tub of tar. Burn him like a blazing star. Burn his body from his head. Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead. Hip hip hoorah! Hip hip hoorah!

It will solve absolutely nothing, and means very little for the people of Iraq once the celebrations are over. He will not be held accountable for anything he's done beyond this. And you can count on it that insurgents will be more than happy to avenge their martyr.

Ehrm... how is this wrong? The guy repeatedly and openly flaunted his tax evasion. He broke the law, he was punished. This really doesn't have anything to do with state opression...

Iron Maiden - Hallowed be Thy Name

http://forum.tip.it/viewtopic.php?t=436781

There's still nobody who wants me on their boat... for... some reason... :-w

Heh, I'm wearing the same thing, except with a black cape and the Ghostspeak amulet.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hell_in_a_Cell#King_of_the_Ring_1998 It may be planned, but the physical risk is very real.

He'll definiately come back when his knee is patched up. When Batista and Benoit both were absent he pretty much singlehandedly carried SmackDown!. He's one of the most popular and experienced wrestlers the company has. He's also one of the few wrestlers who's ego isn't enormous, he's willing to lose three weeks in a row as world champ just to advance a storyline. Maybe he'll go to RAW once he comes back.

Better if you don't. I've seriously damaged at least two relationships because of people reading some of the stuff I keep to myself :-w

Depends on your needs really... If you tell us what you want to do with them, we might be able to tell you what's the best way to divide up the space...

Pfft, some girls love it if you watch shows like this or Gilmore Girls. I've learned to stomach it :Hmm, so she likes Gilmore Girls eh? I pity you, i dont have the stomach for teeny bopper heartthrob omg this is my life to a t-esque shows. *sigh* what is this society coming to. It's an excuse to be under a blanket with a girl and chocolate. I fail to see what's the problem.

Pfft, some girls love it if you watch shows like this or Gilmore Girls. I've learned to stomach it :

Hrm... this is tricky, but from 10 to 1... Theatre of Tragedy - Velvet Darkness They Fear Oomph! - Wahrheit oder Pflicht Aina - Days of Rising Doom: The Metal Opera Within Temptation - Mother Earth Sonata Arctica - Reckoning Night Ayreon - The Human Equation Epica - Consign to Oblivion After Forever - Remagine Nightwish - Oceanborn Haggard - Eppur Si Muove (Might post explanations later, tired now -.-)

If it's not too late, you could do it on Achilles and Siegfried (look up the Nibelungenlied).

They probably have, that's why :-w

Well, we got one last great match out of him :-w (And another one before that, at No Mercy). Too bad SmackDown! has lost its main draw, but people knew this for a while so I'm sure the creative department will fill in the gap somehow. Just hope the fued over the Guerrero name is dead and burried now.

Chaotic Neutral, appearantly...

Meh, this is hardly solid. Only marginally better than the stuff I trash. I haven't written an actual story in weeks

My preference has always been female vocals. The first song with (classical) female vocals that I enjoyed was, oddly enough, a rap song. I can't remember the name or the artists, but in between verses there were samples of a woman singing a part of the Russian opera Prince Igor. However, I *really* dislike female singers that sound, for lack of a better word, 'common' (think Amy Lee), or female vocals used wrongly.

I have a signed copy of the limited edition of the Epica DVD We Will Take You With Us - Twee Meter Sessies.

I feel like crap. ItÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s the first conclusion my mind makes as it lurches from its slumber. The conclusion is based on the sensory information that slowly trickles in from all parts of my body. A throbbing headache slowly drones on, almost blocking out the aching joints, the surging nausea, the eye sockets that feel like theyÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢ve been stuffed with wads of tinfoil and the mouth that feels like itÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s been sucking on a pillow all night. A second, more precise conclusion is formed. Hangover. My old man will tell everyone whoÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢ll listen that itÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s an evolutionary mechanism to separate the men from the boys. The pastor used to say that itÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s GodÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s way of warning us against the evils of alcohol. The pastor died of a heart attack on his fortieth birthday. My dad is twice as old as me and has a thirst to match. And me? IÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢ve been here often enough to know which one of the two was right. Another coherent thought flares to life. Water. I try to pull myself upright, but after a few minutes of struggling I give up and decide to just roll out from under the blankets. They feel like sandpaper as they pass over my bare skin. I land on my hands and knees and the jolt of impact triggers a violent struggle within my stomach. My throat manages to hold back two late night hamburgers. Just barely. I swallow several times to settle myself before slowly standing up. As I find my balance the realization strikes me that itÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s Friday, that I have a class at eleven that I canÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t afford to miss. I force myself to look around for any kind of clue as to how late it is. ThereÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s not enough light passing through the curtains for a sunrise. I let out a relieved sigh. Hopefully just enough time to recover. I take a hesitant first step, just barely managing to keep my balance. Two more steps. I let go of the desk and set out towards the door. Three wobbly steps later my feet connects with what feels and sounds like an empty bottle. It rolls across the floor until it collides with a piece of furniture. The clank of impact echoes across my room and my head. I clutch at my skull in agony, waiting for the noise to die down. When my head finally settles I work up the strength to lurch forward again. Three more steps take me towards the door. In the darkness I take an educated guess as to where the doorknob is. Luckily I manage to find it in one try, and I almost smile as I stumble across the living room towards the kitchen. Finally. Water. I yank the faucet open and lap at the cold stream like a dog. Even if there was a clean cup to be found somewhere within walking distance my body wouldnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t have let me look for it. The water is freezing. Just right. I continue to drink hungrily until everything except for the headache seems like a distant echo. What the water wonÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t fix, aspirin and coffee will. Later. Right now my body just wants more sleep, and I just barely manage to resist the temptation of crashing down on the couch I pass on the way back to my bed. In a brief moment of lucidity I search the floor for my pants, struggling to stop my hands from trembling as I pull my cell phone out of my pocket to set the alarm clock, squinting to shield my eyes from the glare of the screen. My rational side forces my fingers to punch in a time that will allow me to force myself to look somewhat presentable in a few hours. Then I suddenly feel the mattress shift under me. The motion startles me so much that I accidentally drop my phone. I start to turn around when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I freeze. The gentleness and warmth of the touch seems to take away the shock of an unknown person in my bed. I hear a soft groan, and I canÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t help but let out a slight sigh of relief when my brain decodes it as female. When nothing happens for half a minute I slowly turn around. I can just barely make out a face and half a naked body in the darkness, the rest is concealed by the blankets. I slowly reach over to brush away raven black hair to reveal the most beautiful face IÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢ve ever seen. She looks at me. I look back. The angel begins to smile and for just a second God isnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t a vindictive bastard whose only hobby is nailing poor island communities with typhoons and earthquakes. Just as I notice she isnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t looking at my eyes but at my neck she lunges forward, sucking at the few drops of water that had trickled down from the corners of my mouth. I let myself fall backward as she sucks her way up my skin. She has it just as bad as I have, and sheÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s kissing me out of thirst in a way that no woman could ever kiss me out of love. She pins me underneath her and kisses me hard, almost as if to suck the water right out of me. Finally she lets go. ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅWater.ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

In my defense, I live in Holland, so not every bit of news about American politics reaches me. I only found out when an online friend who plays semi-professionally started ranting at me that he couldn't log in anymore. The way the article described the process, it kind of seemed like the episode of The Simpsons where Krusty becomes a congressman and they sneak in a ban on airplanes flying over residential areas by attaching it to a 'Flags for Orphans' bill.

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/10/ ... 7917.shtml