Once upon a grand ol’ time, there was a cowboy frog named Buffy Zerkle, He and his girl danced a jig in front of the skies of purple. An old obese man came and danced some too, and tapped his toes to the rhythm, But who could have known his brain would snap, and he’d die of an aneurysm? Julie Sparkles was Buffy’s gal, a praying mantis with beautiful blue eyes, He himself had great dreams for them, to profit the rest of their lives. “A restaurant!” exclaimed he, with fire in his heart, “we’ll open in the month upcoming. We can travel far and start one out in the wondrous land of Wyoming!” They packed their bags and danced their jig, for the moon goddess’s approval, So they could leave their quaint little town, and prepare it for their removal. They grabbed up Buffy’s slave frog Albert and tossed him in their cupcake shaped car, They tied up the dead ol’ obese man too, ‘cause they knew they’d be drivin’ far. Along the drive, Miss Julie inquired, “May we stop by the Chuckle Tree? It’s not too far, for just one stop. There’s an old friend I want to see!” “Of course,” he replied, “we have some spare time, but who is this old friend?” “A gnome named Nunie, she’s quite the looker.” She told him as they pulled their car in. As the two rekindled, Buffy split, and toured that old Chuckle tree, He entered a room and saw a sight he never wished that he’d see, His gal there lies in a fold out bed with Nunie, and Three’s Company on the television. Then and there dear Buffy cried, because he hated John Ritter with a passion. They left the Chuckle Tree right that second, and continued on their travel, The uncomfortable mood in that cupcake car made all their problems unravel. Arguing and swearing, up and down the westward highway trip, ‘Til an old gray washed up athlete hitchhiker asked if he could have a lift. “Of course,” the team said, uncomfortably as ever. “You’ll have to pardon our old obese man, he was a bit under the weather.” “Well my name is Charlie,” replied the rickety gross old man, “I carry around this Wheatie’s box that I was on, when baseball was played in sand.” The gang looked among themselves and forgot about their quarrel, This idiot now sitting in the backseat had the IQ of a squirrel. The car however, wouldn’t start; they had run out of gas. Stuck right there in the middle of nowhere; with no help for to ask. Buffy finally decided to let Miss Julie call that Nunie, Even though with her along, it made dear Buffy woozy. His slave frog Albert made the call, so the couple could be together, The kissed and made up, for worse or for better. Nunie arrived with some gas for the car, and said to the friends, “You must travel no more! This is where the road ends!” “It ends?” Buffy Zerkle inquired with a whine. “Yes my silly frog, you have crossed the state line!” The group looked around, they looked far and looked wide, And it seems as though this was the Wyoming countryside. “We’ve made it!” they all laughed and danced in the glow. This surely was it, so on the plans go! The restaurant opened, on January Twenty-third, The popularity of it heightened, through rave review’s word. With Julie on counter, Charlie on tables, Nunie a stripper, and Albert tended stables. Stables, oh? For why you may ask, for this was by far most important of tasks. They raised ol’ obese men, to kill and to eat, ‘cause as it turns out, they make quite the nice treat. Buffy sat back, and watched the business all grow, with a sad little tear for the moon goddess back home. “We’ll invite them all, for a reunion feast! A feast that couldn’t go bad in the least!” So the goddesses they came, with their goddess-like splendor, While Julie puréed the original obese man in the blender. Charlie served it up, for these gentle deities, But the food they ate choked them, and spread a disease. All the friends tried it, to see what’s the matter, But then they all grew sick, and bathrooms heard splatter. “To the caves!” shouted Charlie, the idiot of the bunch, “upon the nectar of the Rokamboso Lilies we must munch!” Even though he was crazy, even though he was a nut, They all did as he said, the cupcake cars spattered and sput. Off to the caves, they were there in a hurry. Now they were getting dizzy, and their vision was blurry. The bushes were found upon and old dead raped goat, They tried the lilies out, to see what they’d denote. The symptoms had vanished, and the disease left long and gone, It was time for celebration, so the party hats went on! They ran out in the field, and they saw the purple moon, Recognized it’s beauty from a time not so soon. The story had unfolded before their own eyes, And now it repeated in the hazy dusk skies. They danced and they danced all through the night, Til a startling noise, gave them a fright. ‘Twas a NEW old obese man with a rat-tap-tap in his feet, and a stable with his name on it right down the street. So my friends, as this story ends, Forget not the obese man, from which it begins. Live life to it’s fullest, live out all your dreams, Or someday you will be served as obese man, with green beans.
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="verdana">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by beacon: Once upon a grand ol’ time, there was a cowboy frog named Buffy Zerkle, He and his girl danced a jig in front of the skies of purple. An old obese man came and danced some too, and tapped his toes to the rhythm, But who could have known his brain would snap, and he’d die of an aneurysm? Julie Sparkles was Buffy’s gal, a praying mantis with beautiful blue eyes, He himself had great dreams for them, to profit the rest of their lives. “A restaurant!” exclaimed he, with fire in his heart, “we’ll open in the month upcoming. We can travel far and start one out in the wondrous land of Wyoming!” They packed their bags and danced their jig, for the moon goddess’s approval, So they could leave their quaint little town, and prepare it for their removal. They grabbed up Buffy’s slave frog Albert and tossed him in their cupcake shaped car, They tied up the dead ol’ obese man too, ‘cause they knew they’d be drivin’ far. Along the drive, Miss Julie inquired, “May we stop by the Chuckle Tree? It’s not too far, for just one stop. There’s an old friend I want to see!” “Of course,” he replied, “we have some spare time, but who is this old friend?” “A gnome named Nunie, she’s quite the looker.” She told him as they pulled their car in. As the two rekindled, Buffy split, and toured that old Chuckle tree, He entered a room and saw a sight he never wished that he’d see, His gal there lies in a fold out bed with Nunie, and Three’s Company on the television. Then and there dear Buffy cried, because he hated John Ritter with a passion. They left the Chuckle Tree right that second, and continued on their travel, The uncomfortable mood in that cupcake car made all their problems unravel. Arguing and swearing, up and down the westward highway trip, ‘Til an old gray washed up athlete hitchhiker asked if he could have a lift. “Of course,” the team said, uncomfortably as ever. “You’ll have to pardon our old obese man, he was a bit under the weather.” “Well my name is Charlie,” replied the rickety gross old man, “I carry around this Wheatie’s box that I was on, when baseball was played in sand.” The gang looked among themselves and forgot about their quarrel, This idiot now sitting in the backseat had the IQ of a squirrel. The car however, wouldn’t start; they had run out of gas. Stuck right there in the middle of nowhere; with no help for to ask. Buffy finally decided to let Miss Julie call that Nunie, Even though with her along, it made dear Buffy woozy. His slave frog Albert made the call, so the couple could be together, The kissed and made up, for worse or for better. Nunie arrived with some gas for the car, and said to the friends, “You must travel no more! This is where the road ends!” “It ends?” Buffy Zerkle inquired with a whine. “Yes my silly frog, you have crossed the state line!” The group looked around, they looked far and looked wide, And it seems as though this was the Wyoming countryside. “We’ve made it!” they all laughed and danced in the glow. This surely was it, so on the plans go! The restaurant opened, on January Twenty-third, The popularity of it heightened, through rave review’s word. With Julie on counter, Charlie on tables, Nunie a stripper, and Albert tended stables. Stables, oh? For why you may ask, for this was by far most important of tasks. They raised ol’ obese men, to kill and to eat, ‘cause as it turns out, they make quite the nice treat. Buffy sat back, and watched the business all grow, with a sad little tear for the moon goddess back home. “We’ll invite them all, for a reunion feast! A feast that couldn’t go bad in the least!” So the goddesses they came, with their goddess-like splendor, While Julie puréed the original obese man in the blender. Charlie served it up, for these gentle deities, But the food they ate choked them, and spread a disease. All the friends tried it, to see what’s the matter, But then they all grew sick, and bathrooms heard splatter. “To the caves!” shouted Charlie, the idiot of the bunch, “upon the nectar of the Rokamboso Lilies we must munch!” Even though he was crazy, even though he was a nut, They all did as he said, the cupcake cars spattered and sput. Off to the caves, they were there in a hurry. Now they were getting dizzy, and their vision was blurry. The bushes were found upon and old dead raped goat, They tried the lilies out, to see what they’d denote. The symptoms had vanished, and the disease left long and gone, It was time for celebration, so the party hats went on! They ran out in the field, and they saw the purple moon, Recognized it’s beauty from a time not so soon. The story had unfolded before their own eyes, And now it repeated in the hazy dusk skies. They danced and they danced all through the night, Til a startling noise, gave them a fright. ‘Twas a NEW old obese man with a rat-tap-tap in his feet, and a stable with his name on it right down the street. So my friends, as this story ends, Forget not the obese man, from which it begins. Live life to it’s fullest, live out all your dreams, Or someday you will be served as obese man, with green beans.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Just what the FUCK makes you think I'm gonna read all that, it's not as if WANK* psted it.
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="verdana">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Kitwanka: BTW... I now have had 22 nicks rate me... and Im back up to 3 stars.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Yes...we can see that...you almost sound convincing that it's news to you...well,no,you don't really. I wonder if the I.P's[/i] will all be the same?Any idea Kitwanka?
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="verdana">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Nursey: Yes...we can see that...you almost sound convincing that it's news to you...well,no,you don't really. I wonder if the I.P's[/i] will all be the same?Any idea Kitwanka? <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Oh! Here goes the Bukkake Queen of the projects
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="verdana">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Nursey: Yes...we can see that...you almost sound convincing that it's news to you...well,no,you don't really. I wonder if the I.P's[/i] will all be the same?Any idea Kitwanka? <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Check the I.p's if you can/want... Then everyone will see what a sad couple of accusing twats you two are...
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="verdana">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Kitwanka: Check the I.p's if you can/want... Then everyone will see what a sad couple of accusing twats you two are...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Well you might not have a static IP anyway...so even if they are differant,it doesn't prove it's not you.
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="verdana">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by pimpchichi: so beacon is one of the multitudes of nicks wank registered as last night is she...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> No, if [WANK*[/B] did register it, I would have read on with great interest, as if my life & love dependwed upon it. But that wasn't the case, Pimp_ma_bitch_out_da_whore_ma_daddy_daddy.
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="verdana">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by canine_STD: Pimp_ma_bitch_out_da_whore_ma_daddy_daddy.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> you want me to pimp out your bitch??...
Im NOT Cunting Beacon. That fucker is from Kent... I am from Essex. Kent is over the other side of the QE2 bridge. Its where all the rejects live. From my experience they are all either GAY or completely retarded. I know one RETARD from Gillingham. He used to "break dance" in the uni "disco" thing. By break danceing I mean... He got on all fours and spun around with his arse in the air and would do one armed push ups... He also got is coke spiked with...coke... I can't stand people from Kent. They suck.
