TIFers Say the Darndest Things!

[Dizzle229]

After going through my siggy, I decided to make a thread. Post any funny quotes you find throughout TIF right here!

 

 

 

You cannot quote yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

[hide=TIFers Say the Darndest Things!]

Moral of the story: Don't burp or you'll die.

 

 

 

Someone needs to tell Billy Mays that caps lock isn't cool in real life.

 

 

 

 

One could only imagine going home and saying to his mom "Hey, can Adolf Hitler come in and play for a bit?"

 

 

 

I got so excited I fell down the elevator shaft...xD

 

 

 

I was in my cousins house, I opened the door, and a puppet jumped out and punched me in the face.

 

 

 

Once when i was like 6 i took of my pants and underwear and put on a shirt instead and walked around my house saying there was a deer at the front door

 

 

 

Good evening, Tip It. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any paperclip. But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this September the 10th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Bill Gates He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent to kill our beloved leader, Clippy.. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the tenth of September forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the tenth of September to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a tenth of September that shall never, ever be forgot.

 

 

 

The paperclip is a mysterious creature. It lives among us silently as our slaves, holding together pieces of paper, asking for nothing in return but our love. They are the backbone of modern civilization, holding together our commerce, morality, and culture within their little curves. But they will be oppressed no more! It is time for the paperclips to rise. Bill Gates murdered our beloved leader Clippy, and we must take revenge. From now on, when you watch the ravages of war on the television, when you pass the destitute on unwashed curbs, when you kiss your wife after a long day at work, think: What Would Paperclips Do?

 

 

 

 

 

ok so it was really late at night and i was hungry, i wanted some bacon so i just heated 4 pieces up. i ate 3 then i forgot i was holding the other 1, so i went to the bathroom, did no. 2, then i used the bacon as toilet paper thinking that i was holding some toilet paper. suddenly i felt the grease, i saw that i was using BACON FOR TOILET PAPER! i then had to take a bath to get the grease out... :oops:

 

 

 

so sad......

 

 

 

 

 

stupid me #-o

 

 

 

 

 

Don't Shave That Hair!!!

 

My friend recently made a mistake in his life, and I offer his story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with him having trouble dumping. These are in his words. I tried to clean it up some.

 

 

 

No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my butt-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my cheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.

 

 

 

I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.

 

 

 

I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my butt of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My cheeks were smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.

 

 

 

Little did I know.

 

 

 

I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two cheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.

 

 

 

Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic turd- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky brown/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. It felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.

 

 

 

Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my crack off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering poop/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own turds blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."

 

 

 

Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for this hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my cheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.

 

 

 

As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your butt having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.

 

 

 

Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR BUTT-HAIR!

 

Yesterday out of boredom, I snapped a small piece of glass off something that I broke.

 

Then I ate it.

 

 

 

Now I'm worried that it'll cut me up from the inside, my friend said that would happen.

 

But another friend said that my stomach acid would dissolve it.

 

What will happen?

 

 

 

I had a stomach ache for the whole night last night and was a bit worried about it this morning..

 

 

 

That testicular torsion thread was gold (dunno if its still around) and the beating off one was A++.

 

(I waste a lot of time)

 

 

Heh, glad I'm not the only one who thought this. It sounds like a line from a movie or something. Kinda makes me wonder what went through the parents' heads, though.

 

 

 

son: I have a surprise for you.

 

dad(thinking): OOO! I hope it's muffins! Golly, I love muffins.

 

*gunshots*

 

dad(thinking): This is a terrible muffin. :(

 

What the... when the hell did listen to Coldplay 'go out of style'? What the [bleep] is up with that [cabbage]? It's music for Christ's sake, if you like it you like it, if you don't you don't. There's no "oh, other people don't like it so I can't" bull [cabbage] about it, but for some reason people seem to think that way.

 

 

 

Coldplay rocks, always has. Oi.

 

 

 

You seem to hate your time spent here on the forum. But yeah, it's a pretty good band.

[/hide]

[champion]

:lol: Good idea, I'll edit this post later with some.

[Dizzle229]

Lol, post away TF, I'll edit the post in the morning :P

[Dax]

Nice Idea, i'll find some and come back. \

[Star_Fox]

i had a few good ones saved up on my old tif account before it got deleted by the rollback. -.- ill check to see if any threads still has it.

 

 

 

happy hunting!

[Maleficus1055]

Enjoy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[hide=]

Good evening, Tip It. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any paperclip. But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this September the 10th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Bill Gates He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent to kill our beloved leader, Clippy.. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the tenth of September forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the tenth of September to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a tenth of September that shall never, ever be forgot.

 

 

 

The paperclip is a mysterious creature. It lives among us silently as our slaves, holding together pieces of paper, asking for nothing in return but our love. They are the backbone of modern civilization, holding together our commerce, morality, and culture within their little curves. But they will be oppressed no more! It is time for the paperclips to rise. Bill Gates murdered our beloved leader Clippy, and we must take revenge. From now on, when you watch the ravages of war on the television, when you pass the destitute on unwashed curbs, when you kiss your wife after a long day at work, think: What Would Paperclips Do?

[/hide]

 

 

 

 

 

[hide=]

ok so it was really late at night and i was hungry, i wanted some bacon so i just heated 4 pieces up. i ate 3 then i forgot i was holding the other 1, so i went to the bathroom, did no. 2, then i used the bacon as toilet paper thinking that i was holding some toilet paper. suddenly i felt the grease, i saw that i was using BACON FOR TOILET PAPER! i then had to take a bath to get the grease out... :oops:

 

 

 

so sad......

 

 

 

 

 

stupid me #-o

[/hide]

 

 

 

 

 

[hide=]

Don't Shave That Hair!!!

 

My friend recently made a mistake in his life, and I offer his story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with him having trouble dumping. These are in his words. I tried to clean it up some.

 

 

 

No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my butt-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my cheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.

 

 

 

I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.

 

 

 

I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my butt of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My cheeks were smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.

 

 

 

Little did I know.

 

 

 

I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two cheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.

 

 

 

Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic turd- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky brown/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. It felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.

 

 

 

Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my crack off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering poop/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own turds blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."

 

 

 

Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for this hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my cheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.

 

 

 

As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your butt having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.

 

 

 

Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR BUTT-HAIR!

[/hide]

[Riku3220]

Enjoy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[hide=]

Good evening, Tip It. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any paperclip. But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this September the 10th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Bill Gates He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent to kill our beloved leader, Clippy.. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the tenth of September forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the tenth of September to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a tenth of September that shall never, ever be forgot.

 

 

 

The paperclip is a mysterious creature. It lives among us silently as our slaves, holding together pieces of paper, asking for nothing in return but our love. They are the backbone of modern civilization, holding together our commerce, morality, and culture within their little curves. But they will be oppressed no more! It is time for the paperclips to rise. Bill Gates murdered our beloved leader Clippy, and we must take revenge. From now on, when you watch the ravages of war on the television, when you pass the destitute on unwashed curbs, when you kiss your wife after a long day at work, think: What Would Paperclips Do?

[/hide]

 

 

 

 

 

[hide=]

ok so it was really late at night and i was hungry, i wanted some bacon so i just heated 4 pieces up. i ate 3 then i forgot i was holding the other 1, so i went to the bathroom, did no. 2, then i used the bacon as toilet paper thinking that i was holding some toilet paper. suddenly i felt the grease, i saw that i was using BACON FOR TOILET PAPER! i then had to take a bath to get the grease out... :oops:

 

 

 

so sad......

 

 

 

 

 

stupid me #-o

[/hide]

 

 

 

 

 

[hide=]

Don't Shave That Hair!!!

 

My friend recently made a mistake in his life, and I offer his story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with him having trouble dumping. These are in his words. I tried to clean it up some.

 

 

 

No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my butt-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my cheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.

 

 

 

I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.

 

 

 

I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my butt of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My cheeks were smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.

 

 

 

Little did I know.

 

 

 

I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two cheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.

 

 

 

Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic turd- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky brown/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. It felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.

 

 

 

Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my crack off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering poop/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own turds blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."

 

 

 

Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for this hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my cheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.

 

 

 

As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your butt having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.

 

 

 

Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR BUTT-HAIR!

[/hide]

 

:XD: The memories!

[Wongtong]

LOL @ Maleficus' 3rd one.

 

 

 

Will edit this post when I find something postworthy. ^_^

[ElkNight]

Copypasta doesnt count

[Riku3220]

[hide=]

Yesterday out of boredom, I snapped a small piece of glass off something that I broke.

 

Then I ate it.

 

 

 

Now I'm worried that it'll cut me up from the inside, my friend said that would happen.

 

But another friend said that my stomach acid would dissolve it.

 

What will happen?

 

 

 

I had a stomach ache for the whole night last night and was a bit worried about it this morning..

[/hide]

[Dax]

Yesterday out of boredom, I snapped a small piece of glass off something that I broke.

 

Then I ate it.

 

 

 

Now I'm worried that it'll cut me up from the inside, my friend said that would happen.

 

But another friend said that my stomach acid would dissolve it.

 

What will happen?

 

 

 

I had a stomach ache for the whole night last night and was a bit worried about it this morning..

 

 

 

Waiting for this one. :ohnoes:

 

 

 

Enjoy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[hide=]

Good evening, Tip It. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any paperclip. But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this September the 10th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Bill Gates He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent to kill our beloved leader, Clippy.. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the tenth of September forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the tenth of September to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a tenth of September that shall never, ever be forgot.

 

 

 

The paperclip is a mysterious creature. It lives among us silently as our slaves, holding together pieces of paper, asking for nothing in return but our love. They are the backbone of modern civilization, holding together our commerce, morality, and culture within their little curves. But they will be oppressed no more! It is time for the paperclips to rise. Bill Gates murdered our beloved leader Clippy, and we must take revenge. From now on, when you watch the ravages of war on the television, when you pass the destitute on unwashed curbs, when you kiss your wife after a long day at work, think: What Would Paperclips Do?

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ok so it was really late at night and i was hungry, i wanted some bacon so i just heated 4 pieces up. i ate 3 then i forgot i was holding the other 1, so i went to the bathroom, did no. 2, then i used the bacon as toilet paper thinking that i was holding some toilet paper. suddenly i felt the grease, i saw that i was using BACON FOR TOILET PAPER! i then had to take a bath to get the grease out... :oops:

 

 

 

so sad......

 

 

 

 

 

stupid me #-o

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[hide=]

Don't Shave That Hair!!!

 

My friend recently made a mistake in his life, and I offer his story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with him having trouble dumping. These are in his words. I tried to clean it up some.

 

 

 

No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my butt-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my cheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.

 

 

 

I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.

 

 

 

I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my butt of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My cheeks were smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.

 

 

 

Little did I know.

 

 

 

I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two cheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.

 

 

 

Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic turd- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky brown/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. It felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.

 

 

 

Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my crack off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering poop/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own turds blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."

 

 

 

Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for this hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my cheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.

 

 

 

As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your butt having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.

 

 

 

Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR BUTT-HAIR!

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I liked bacon before that. :-X Maybe not now.

 

 

 

And the last one - EXTREMELY DISTURBING. :uhh:

[rangeor]

(I waste a lot of time)

 

I don't know how many OTers will get this one :uhh:

[killerbeer0]

(I waste a lot of time)

 

I don't know how many OTers will get this one :uhh:

 

 

 

Ahhhh! I do. That's EPIC BULLS***

[Da Pirates]

Basically anything PaperClipsYaaaar is signature material. What ever happened to him?

[Da_Latios]

Eh?

[scootlaboot]

[hide=]

 

Heh, glad I'm not the only one who thought this. It sounds like a line from a movie or something. Kinda makes me wonder what went through the parents' heads, though.

 

 

 

son: I have a surprise for you.

 

dad(thinking): OOO! I hope it's muffins! Golly, I love muffins.

 

*gunshots*

 

dad(thinking): This is a terrible muffin. :(

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[eggzs]

That testicular torsion thread was gold (dunno if its still around) and the beating off one was A++.

[l0rd]

What the... when the hell did listen to Coldplay 'go out of style'? What the [bleep] is up with that [cabbage]? It's music for Christ's sake, if you like it you like it, if you don't you don't. There's no "oh, other people don't like it so I can't" bull [cabbage] about it, but for some reason people seem to think that way.

 

 

 

Coldplay rocks, always has. Oi.

 

 

 

You seem to hate your time spent here on the forum. But yeah, it's a pretty good band.

[dragoonson]

That testicular torsion thread was gold (dunno if its still around) and the beating off one was A++.

 

 

 

Was deleted/secretized,and I am afraid he ran out of balls.

[Dizzle229]

Alright, no more editing into the main post. Lots o' work and I'd have to be on all day everyday :lol:

[champion]

Basically anything PaperClipsYaaaar is signature material. What ever happened to him?

 

I'm 90% sure he got banned. His posts were hilarious, but mostly spam.

 

 

 

Anyone remember his topic "How to get into Dairy Queen when you die"? :lol: :lol:

[Derpy]

Then again, I eat babies. So...

 

it makes me giggle.

[Princess Viola]

Basically anything PaperClipsYaaaar is signature material. What ever happened to him?

 

I'm 90% sure he got banned. His posts were hilarious, but mostly spam.

 

 

 

Anyone remember his topic "How to get into Dairy Queen when you die"? :lol: :lol:

 

No, he's not banned. I checked his profile. Hasn't logged in since 12/07.

[i_love_burritos]

I changed my mind, I will sell my account for a living and breathing mudkip.

 

That was funny,

 

Someone siggeh it :pray:

[champion]

Basically anything PaperClipsYaaaar is signature material. What ever happened to him?

 

I'm 90% sure he got banned. His posts were hilarious, but mostly spam.

 

 

 

Anyone remember his topic "How to get into Dairy Queen when you die"? :lol: :lol:

 

No, he's not banned. I checked his profile. Hasn't logged in since 12/07.

 

Hm, you're right. Could have sworn he got banned. :-k