THESE FORUMS NOW CLOSED (read only)
Fun Stuff => CHATTER => Topic started by: inflatable_slide on 20 Oct 2008, 13:49
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that is the question...
should i beat ten kinds of shit out of my very best friend because he is a selfish fuck who shut me out of his life because he's trying out being "confident" and "happy"(someone has got issues goin' on there if theyre happy at the expense of others)? or should i not.....
hmmmmmm
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Blug.
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Seconded. Also, beating the shit out of a friend is a shitty thing to do. Help them, don't hit them.
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Always beat, but also always Jacket off.
Somtimes Blyg
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Ugh.
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i wouldnt beat him up, i never resort to violence, after all i am a lady!I'm just very angry and have no idea what the fuck to do.
I'm crap at handling these sorts of situations, when it comes to close friends i can never think about what's best for me, i think about other way too much and thus i get shat on!
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he's gay, but i will get fucking wrecked.. at the weekend.
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I'm confused.
What's wrong with being confident and happy?
Also. Blooagh
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nothing at all, i just dont think any person should treat people who care so much about them in a manner that would upset them, just so you can be happy.
but maybe i'm fucked in the head....
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This thread is like going to a play where they only perform every 3rd line of dialogue.
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take a head-dive into a giant drunken stupor and have makeouts with him.
I believe this may be what Jens is planning on doing in Fargo.
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Maybe he figured out you're the reason he wasn't confident and happy in the first place.:p
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So going with what Don(?) said, think about your freindship with him. From begining to hopefully-not-end.
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Yeah, not to pile it on or anything, but I was totally keeping a "friend" of mine back for many years with my attitude. Maybe he's being completely irrational, or maybe not, but it may be worth investigating whether you really have a healthy dynamic in place. Perception is everything when it comes to self-esteem, after all.
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We can grow greens and invent synthetic factories finally run by atomic energy that will plop out loaves of bread and unbearably delicious chemical chops and butter in cans - why not? - our clothes will last forever, perfect plastic - we'll have perfect medicine and drugs to carry us through anything short of death - and we'll all agree that death is our reward.
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I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,
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angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
ery of night,
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I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up.
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Yeah, not to pile it on or anything, but I was totally keeping a "friend" of mine back for many years with my attitude. Maybe he's being completely irrational, or maybe not, but it may be worth investigating whether you really have a healthy dynamic in place. Perception is everything when it comes to self-esteem, after all.
well seeing as i've always been there to pikc him up when he felt shit and offer hima shoulder to cry on, even when i was angry at him i think he is being a bit of a spa!
i think that maybe im the one who puts more work into a friendship seeing as i put the work in and got sweet fuck all back.
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and everything is pouring in, the switching moves of boxcars in that little alley which is so much like the alleys of Lowell and I hear far off in the sense of coming night that engine calling our mountains. But it was that beautiful cut of clouds I could always see above the little SP alley, puffs floating by from Oakland or the Gate of Marin to the north or San Jose south, the clarity of Cal to break your heart.
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well seeing as i've always been there to pikc him up when he felt shit and offer hima shoulder to cry on, even when i was angry at him i think he is being a bit of a spa!
i think that maybe im the one who puts more work into a friendship seeing as i put the work in and got sweet fuck all back.
Fair enough, but you could still see how that may not be a healthy dynamic, right? I mean, you might more or less be his friendship training wheels. I had a really rough time growing up for a number of reasons, but I had a few friends who were always there for me whether I recognized it or not. Once I finally started to turn things around a bit, I found that I sometimes had a hard time relating to them outside of my former "ABLOO BLA BLOO BLAH BLOO" attitude and it took a while for me to feel comfortable with them again simply out of guilt and shame. There were times growing up where I felt like tearing my hair out and telling people "I'm not the same guy, ok?!". I guess what I'm trying to say is you might not have any real options here other than to wait it out and continue to be the kind of friend people want in their lives. Friendships change, and they're not always equal transactions.
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Yeah, I've had friendships like that before. One friendship/relationship I had was built almost entirely around one or the other of us being in crisis all the time, and while we cared about each other deeply, we didn't know how to relate to one another when we were just happy. As a result, we'd manufacture emotional crisis in order to hold the friendship together. At some point, I realized "I'm at a point where I could easily choose to be happy, but I'm choosing to be miserable because she'll stick around and pay attention to me as long as I'm miserable." So I stopped doing that. I let myself be happy and there was some drama because of it, but eventually she decided that she could also be happy and now we're friends. We don't talk all the time (she lives many states away now) but we're close enough. If she's in trouble, I'll be there, an she'll do the same for me. But most of the time, we share good news and have fun talking about the happy things in our lives. Friendship has to be about taking pleasure in the other person's happiness as much as it is about sharing that person's pain. Otherwise it's less friendship then it is therapy.
Now I have no idea what he's actually doing that's making you upset, but if all that's happened is that he's become confident and happy, perhaps you need to take joy in the fact that your friend is happy now. He doesn't need you to comfort him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to share in his joy.
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and everything is pouring in, the switching moves of boxcars in that little alley which is so much like the alleys of Lowell and I hear far off in the sense of coming night that engine calling our mountains. But it was that beautiful cut of clouds I could always see above the little SP alley, puffs floating by from Oakland or the Gate of Marin to the north or San Jose south, the clarity of Cal to break your heart.
Lets go where this is going.
Oh what, contribute? Don't be ridiculous
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Suck the next seven dicks you see.
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The snow drifted down from the heavens. Heavens, hah, as if they still cared about us. Her still frame lay on the cold ground, as the snow slowly rose around her. At first there was enough heat left in her to melt it to water, but now she was just cold and slightly damp. And she had a knife sticking out of her belly.
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I often wonder what made me choose this kind of work. Surely it's not the hours. The 'perks' involve being shot at, never knowing if it's safe to turn the ignition in your car, and sleeping with a loaded gun beneath your pillow. And let me tell you, walking in on scenes like this is something you never get used to. Someone wanted to send a message and they couldn't of picked a prettier courier. Shame she won't be dancing anymore.
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The first snow of the year came just in time to cover the tracks to this murder, but that's OK. I'll find the punk that shanked this dame, and I'll make him fess up to why he did it. Then I'll find the bastard that's been taunting me with dead bodies, and I'll kill him or bring him in. Depends how many bullets I have left by the time I catch him.
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JOHN DANGER - PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
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Those afternoons, those lazy afternoons, when I used to sit, or lied down, on Desolation Peak, sometimes on the alpine grass, hundreds of miles of snowcovered rock all around, looming Mount Hozomeen on my north, vast snowy Jack to the south, the encharmed picture of the lake below to the west and the snowy hump of Mt. Baker beyond, and to the east the rilled and ridged monstrosities humping to the Cascade Ridge, and after that first time suddenly realizing "It's me that's changed and done all this and come and gone and complained and hurt and joyed and yelled, not the Void" and so that every time I thought of the void I'd be looking at Mt. Hozomeen (because chair and bed and meadowgrass faced north) until I realized "Hozomeen is the Void - at least Hozomeen means the void to my eyes" - Stark naked rock, pinnacles and thousand feet high protruding from hunch-muscles another thousand feet high protruding from immense timbered shoulders, and the green pointy-fir snake of my own (Starvation) ridge wriggling to it, to its awful vaulty blue smokebody rock, and the "clouds of hope" lazing in Canada beyond with their tittlefaces and parallel lumps and sneers and grins and lamby blanks and puffs of snout and mews of crack saying "Hoi! hoil earth!" - the very top tittermost peak abominables of Hozomeen made of black rock and only when storms blow I don't see them and all they do is return tooth for tooth to storm an imperturbable surl for cloudburst mist - Hozomeen that does not crack like cabin rigging in the winds, that when seen from upsidedown (when I'd do my headstand in the yard) is just a hanging bubble in the illimitable ocean of space -
Hozomeen, Hozomeen, most beautiful mountain I ever seen, like a tiger sometimes with stripes, sunwashed rills and shadow crags wriggling lines in the Bright Daylight, vertical furrows and bumps and Boo! crevasses, boom, sheer magnificent Prudential mountain, nobody's even heard of it, and it's only 8,000 feet high, but what a horror when I first saw that void the first night of my staying on Desolation peak waking up from deep fogs of 20 hours to a starlit night suddenly loomed by Hozomeen with his two sharp points, right in my window black - the Void, every time I'd think of the Void I'd see Hozomeen and understand - Over 70 days I had to stare at it.
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JOHN DANGER - PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
She walked into my office on a brisk autumn evening on legs that could kill. I stroked my full, glorious bear and lit up a cigarette as she gave me her sob story. This city's got a million of 'em. I get to the bottom of them, that's my job.
SAM KNIGHT - PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
Also, I was pretty sure this was going to be a thread about masturbation. Color me disappointed. The blog thread's a few clicks south, folks.
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She walked into my office on a brisk autumn evening on legs that could kill. I stroked my full, glorious bear and lit up a cigarette as she gave me her sob story. This city's got a million of 'em.
SAM KNIGHT - BEAR TAMER and PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
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It was raining that night in Johannesburg and all the good whores had the clap. I walked into Cleo's. It was the kind of bar that made you homesick for concentration camp.
JoJo was tending bar that night. He had a voice like chronic flatulence and smelled of old pepper. "Whaddaya have?"
I paused. Momentous decisions like this often define, for better or worse, how the night is going to go.
"Gimme a Wierd Internet Discussion Board Posting, and a Codependence on the side."
It was going to be a long night.
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This thread is like going to a play where they only perform every 3rd line of dialogue.
I'd see this play.
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I keep two magnums in my desk. One's a gun, and I keep it loaded. The other's a bottle and it keeps me loaded. I'm Tracer Bullet, and I'm a professional snoop.
It's a tough job, but then I'm a tough guy. Some people don't like an audience when they work. Enough have told me so with blunt instruments that I'm a phrenologists' dream come true.
Snooping pays the bills though. Especially Bill, my bookie, and Bill, my probation officer.
So when a brunette openPh'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn,
PH'NGLUI MGLW'NAFH CTHULU R'LYEH WGAH'NAGL FHTAGN
PH'NGLUI MGLW'NAFH CTHULU R'LYEH WGAH'NAGL FHTAGN
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SAM KNIGHT - BEAR TAMER and PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
Ah, shit.
Also, this thread delivers, as it were.
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I read it as "To beat it or not to beat it". I was wondering how this could be a real discussion, carry on.
Also beating your friend is never good, and maybe you don't know it but you are a bad influence on him or he views you that way.
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Just rub one out whenever you feel like it dude
Thats how I roll and I am a pimp
:police: :police: :police:
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Motherfuck, those old pirates? Yeah son, they robbed my ass and sold my ass to the merchant ships. This was just minutes after they up and pried my ass out of my hiding place, shit was like a bottomless pit. But you don't fuck with these hands, 'cause they're made strong by the Almighty, oh lord you do NOT fuck with this shit. They all forward in this generation, fuckin' triumphant. So won't you help me sing these songs of freedom? Shit's all I got, man, these redemption songs.
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I keep two magnums in my desk. One's a gun, and I keep it loaded. The other's a bottle and it keeps me loaded. I'm Tracer Bullet, and I'm a professional snoop.
It's a tough job, but then I'm a tough guy. Some people don't like an audience when they work. Enough have told me so with blunt instruments that I'm a phrenologists' dream come true.
Snooping pays the bills though. Especially Bill, my bookie, and Bill, my probation officer.
So when a brunette openPh'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn,
PH'NGLUI MGLW'NAFH CTHULU R'LYEH WGAH'NAGL FHTAGN
PH'NGLUI MGLW'NAFH CTHULU R'LYEH WGAH'NAGL FHTAGN
I LOL'd.
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RAPE
HIM
ITS THE ONLY WAY
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IA IA, CTHULU FHTAGN
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post/av
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So I am in prison. It is bad. So bad. The leader, he rape my face. He rape my hand. Do I cry? I do not. Is prison. Is dog pack. You weak? You die.
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Rip Berryrock, the famous detective, stepped onto the plane. He'd have the crook in no time. Once in the air, the waitress brought him cold water. It was his signature drink. He craved the stuff. The waitress had never seen a guy crave water that way, so she brought him another. He winked as he craved the fresh glass.
Rip got a phone call. The crook had skipped town! His expensive plane ticket was all for nothing! What would he do? Thinking quickly, he rolled down the plane window and asked the pilot to descend to fifteen feet. He saw the crook's car and shot him in the driving leg!
Later, at the hospital, the crook admitted that the jewels were in his pocket. Rip's bullet had narrowly missed them.
"Good job," said the police chief. "I didn't shoot the jewels because I knew where they were," said Rip. "Okay," said the police chief.
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If he was your child I would say hell yeah, but as your friend and equal I say no.
Children sometimes need some sense beaten into them, and until they are old enough to fight back I see it as acceptable.
I got smacked or disciplined as a child and I think if I got hit more often I would be more respectful.
As a result I am not but children nowadays don't fear punishment as much as they should, I am not talking about putting them in hospital, just show them who is boss by making them physically uncomfortable.
Rule with an iron fist! but don't hit your equals, hug them.
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Rip Berryrock, the famous detective, stepped onto the plane. He'd have the crook in no time. Once in the air, the waitress brought him cold water. It was his signature drink. He craved the stuff. The waitress had never seen a guy crave water that way, so she brought him another. He winked as he craved the fresh glass.
Rip got a phone call. The crook had skipped town! His expensive plane ticket was all for nothing! What would he do? Thinking quickly, he rolled down the plane window and asked the pilot to descend to fifteen feet. He saw the crook's car and shot him in the driving leg!
Later, at the hospital, the crook admitted that the jewels were in his pocket. Rip's bullet had narrowly missed them.
"Good job," said the police chief. "I didn't shoot the jewels because I knew where they were," said Rip. "Okay," said the police chief.
“Yo, Boss?” said the Mafia man. “It’s Johnny Phone Calls. Yeah, we got ridda’ the body.”
“Right boss,” he said. “Mickey Car Rides took ‘im out to Jersey and Freddy Guns did the rest.”
All of a sudden, a kid in a white outfit jumped over the wall and kicked the phone out of the crook's hand! "AH-GHEEB!" yelled Johnny, holding his phone hand. "I tink ya broke'd it!"
"I am sorry I did that, Johnny," said the kid, "but today I am ending the Mafia." "Aww jeez!" said Johnny. "You mean I'm outta a job?"
"You can be a repair man."
"Look out!" yelled Johnny. The kid turned around: too late. A hidden crook was only one second from kicking him.
Fortunately, the kid grabbed the guy's foot just in time and convinced him to quit the Mafia.
Later that night, sitting down with the President of the Mafia, the kid said how things would be from now on.
"No more red wine. It makes you act out.”
The President slapped his forehead. "No wonner we been-a so grouchy!"
The kid poured him a glass of cold water. "I drink this stuff every day, and I am as nice as I have ever been," he said.
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Phillipe Fanfic?
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You see, back in the day, we did business one way: if it's not capable of being hollowed out and filled entirely with cocaine and then sealed to keep the disguise up, we don't fucking want it near us. Nowadays these punk "mobsters" are making loads of money by shipping their blow in giant metal shipping containers on the sly, but they're so much easier to track by satellite. So when they're rotting away in prison for drug trafficking, possession with intent to sell, abuse of a controlled substance, and various drug-related murder offenses, us old-school mobsters? We gonna be ridin' easy.
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My mother is a fish.
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His penis was as thick as a Pepsi can.
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having not read the first page of this thread, i must say that i approve of what is going on here.
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Man, why you gotta make me look at Bob Barr.
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He looks like his prostate is being massaged as we speak.
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This is a Great Thread.
I am the awful sort of person who has nothing to contribute to it.
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My grief, I find, is not desolation or rebellion at universal law or deity. I find grief to be much simpler and sadder... All the things he loved tear at my heart because he is no longer here on earth to enjoy them. All the things he loved!
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These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
Through which our policy must make a breach:
Take heed, be wary how you place your words;
Talk like the vulgar sort of market men
That come to gather money for their corn.
If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
And that we find the slothful watch but weak,
I'll by a sign give notice to our friends,
That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.
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A troupe of Tuvan
Throat-singers stopping
To make steppes music, just
Because they fell like it.
Feedsite listeners milling
around, recording them,
Saving a few unique
Minutes for everybody.
Dissenting lovers
On the run from a
Chinese culture
Reservation, kissing
Their way to a new
Revolution.
Cop moves the whores along,
A squad of Russian security
Werewolves realize they're
Not getting any this
Afternoon after all.
This city never allowed
Itself to decay or degrade.
It's wildly, intensely
GROWING. It's a loud
Bright stinking MESS.
It takes STRENGTH
From its THOUSANDS
Of cultures. And the
Thousands MORE that
Grow ANEW each day.
It isn't perfect. It LIES
and CHEATS. It's no
UTOPIA and it ain't the
Mountain by a LONG
Shot -- but it's ALIVE.
I can't ARGUE with that.
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i know why dinosaurs went extinct it's because they learnt to suck their own cocks
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His dick is 8" wide and 2" long. It's like fucking a cheese wheel.
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and man, he said, there ain't no communism like the Avon lady.
I didn't say anything. Just sat, sipping my Jack and coke, hoping someone else would catch his attention.
Think about it, he said, into his bottled Miller. Avon lady puts out all these booklets, and chicks, man, chicks just got to get the shit. I mean, how's that anything but communism?
I was going to answer him, explain how advertising and impulse purchasing affects the free market system, maybe even draw a chart on the bar napkin, but JoJo the bartender saved him from this fate worse than death by killing him with a single shotgun blast to the head.
I can't stand Miller, he said. It's made from the piss of lawn gnomes.
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Everything is the same, the fog says 'We are fog and we fly by dissolving like ephemera,' and the leaves say 'We are leaves and we jiggle in the wind, that's all, we come and go, grow and fall' — Even the paper bags in my garbage pit say 'We are mantransformed paper bags made out of wood pulp, we are kinda proud of being paper bags as long as that will be possible, but we'll be mush again with our sisters the leaves come rainy season' — The tree stumps say 'We are tree stumps torn out of the ground by men, sometimes by the wind, we have big tendrils full of earth that drink out of the earth' — Men say 'We are men, we pull out tree stumps, we make paper bags, we think wise thoughts, we make lunch, we look around, we make a great effort to realise everything is the same.'
people should keep posting kerouac
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His dick is 8" wide and 2" long. It's like fucking a cheese wheel.
(http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x59/LouBriccant/Part%202/Part%203/1179282322495po5vp2yp8.gif)
ps - we make our own Kerouak here, man.
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But it's nowhere near as good.
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Man, why you gotta make me look at Bob Barr.
The guy in Jeans' avatar is Bob Barr? Dear god, he looks like a child molester.
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But it's nowhere near as good.
Man, Kerouac.
His poetry does not excuse the wastes of space he creates on college campuses every year.
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Suck the next seven dicks you see.
Suck the next 8 1/2 price cocks you see
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That should be part of Barr's platform: half price cocks for everyone!
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I love half price cocks. They are the best kind.
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Except when some asshole gets confused and goes off half-cocked. That sucks.
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I wouldn't know.
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Me either.
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IT'S THE AMERICAN HONKEY-TONK BARR ASSOCIATION
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I'm barring up, if you know what I mean.
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(http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a55/ddovey/barrtard.jpg)
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David Dovey, raising the Barr
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He's the Barrometer for determining others' success or failure.
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I can't come up with anything, so I'm going to Barr myself from this part of the conversation...
see whut i did ther?
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Some of these jokes deserve to have the lot of you put behind Barrs.
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(http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/famecrawler/2008/08/16-22/Roseanne_Barr.jpg)
?
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Now you're just getting lazy.
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Barring something drastic, I think this thread has passed its zenith.
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Yeah, people should be just be plain barred from posting at this point.
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Shakespeare walks into a pub and, moments later, is thrown out by the bouncer. As he walks away the bouncer shouts "You're bard!"
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New, from Mattel, Presidential Hopeful Barrbie!
These puns are weak, maybe they should use some Barrbells.
What do you call the mollusks on the bottom of an Independant Party candidate's yacht? Barrnacles.
I feel sick, I think I'm going to Barrf.
What do you call a fighting knife for idiots who have absolutely no shot of winning the presidency? A KA-BARR.
Have a nice day.
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HIS SWEATER.
(http://oldschoolliberal.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/bob_barr.jpg)
santa.
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He knows if you've been naughty.
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Fuckin jesus, is this still goin?
i didnt need to resort to violence in the end, i wrote a letter and now all is well :)
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If he was your child I would say hell yeah, but as your friend and equal I say no.
Children sometimes need some sense beaten into them, and until they are old enough to fight back I see it as acceptable.
I got smacked or disciplined as a child and I think if I got hit more often I would be more respectful.
As a result I am not but children nowadays don't fear punishment as much as they should, I am not talking about putting them in hospital, just show them who is boss by making them physically uncomfortable.
Rule with an iron fist! but don't hit your equals, hug them.
=cowardice
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Some threads are more awesome than the op.
edit to add: Good God, a letter?
That will end in pain.
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Not at all John, you've merely fallen out of touch with today's youth.
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*shakes cane*
Get out of my damn yard!
Seriously, though. A letter is almost, but barely not, as bad as sending an email. The best idea would have been to not be codependent, to just let it go and let the relationship be what it was.
I'll wager dinner at Dreamland BBQ in Birmingham, AL (not including travel expenses and lodging) if this does not end in pain, suffering, and anger.
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I like pancakes.
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There are no good pancakes in Birmingham.
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There are no good pancakes in Barrmingham.
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Marry me.
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We're all missing the most important point:
Was the letter written in Beat style??
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Bob
Bob Barr
Dear sir,
Why must you be such a drag?
I
hate
everything
and you don't make it any better.
No love for your lies,
PAIN
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God dammit Patrick, my sides.
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Marry me.
Oh I dare say mah father shan't ever consent to our union.
(http://blogs.kansascity.com/photos/uncategorized/henry_co_sheriff_frank_cassell.jpg)
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Why, Ah assuah you mah intentions ah purely honahrahbul.
(How silly is it that a Southern white boy can't type in a Southern accent?)
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HEY WHAT DO YOU CALL IT WHEN BOB BARR DOESN'T SHAVE FOR A WEEK
GRIZZLY BARR LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLO
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OHOHOH What do you call it when Ron Barr places metal rods in wet concrete???????
REBARR!!!!!!!!!!!111!111!
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HEY WHAT DO YOU GET WHEN YOU CROSS BOB BARR AND SHAKESPEARE
THE BARRD
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What sound does the machine make when you cast the wrong vote?
BOBBARR.
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What's brown, likes kids, and believes in laissiez-faire economics?
Pedobarr.
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Two men walked in to Bob Barr. The third one ducked.
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Unless Barr were like clotheslining them or something, the third guy is still going to walk into Bob Barr, ducking or not.
"The third guy stepped to the side" probably would've worked better.
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Unless Barr were like clotheslining them or something, the third guy is still going to walk into Bob Barr, ducking or not.
"The third guy stepped to the side" probably would've worked better.
I thought of that. I decided to go more absurd, but thinking on it again, you might be right.
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Okay I have a joke.
There's a repulican candidate who is really a fascist.
There's a democratic candidate who is really a socialist.
There's a libertarian candidate who is really a republican.
Oh wait it's not funny is it.
(or completely true)
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Hmmmm... well, the candidates, as far as it goes, seem to be holding their party lines pretty tightly, all things considered.
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Is it just me or is John McCain an old dog barr-king at the moon these days?
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I hear that Palin is barr-king crazy.
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Guys.
Guys stop it.
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Are you kidding? This is probably the Best Thread.
(well, barring the zombie thread).
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Guys, Ally has spoken...
Or, should I say, Lunchbarrx...
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Barr, Humbug!
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I have too much dignity to use the phrase "barr-ty pooper" in a sentence.
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Come on Gene, you're really scraping the bottom of the barr-el.
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Ugh, I think I'm gonna barrf.
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I'm starting to get sick of all these no holds barr-ed style puns.
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Man I am hungry for some strawBARRies.
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So man have you guys heard about chuck norris he's a badass.
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Fuck it I couldn't resist.
(http://img508.imageshack.us/img508/8796/mccainscreamyq3.jpg)
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Is this thread about masturbation yet?
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Take a look at McCain's face there, of course it is.
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No Koeffer but some light-up taint pictures would help in rectifying the situation.
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MASTABARRSHUN
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I feel like I'm posting in "I Like BARRRRR".
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WHUT
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(http://www.myconfinedspace.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/negro-frowns.jpg)
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God I love that picture.
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I think we can finally put Barr to rest.
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What about President Barack...
OBARRMA
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Good god don't scare me like that
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Personally, I would have gone with BARRack Obama, but that's just me.
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Why not Barrack Obarrma?
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Thread barr-ver.
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Barrack Hurrsein Obarrma.
Hurr
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Damn it, you barrstards beat me to the Barack ones.
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Why don't you all barrn in hell.
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I was going to make a joke, but then I realized I really like this show. Still, what do you get when cross a presidential candidate with a cartoon elephant? (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7JLDytgnIQo)
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Oh! Of course! I was trying to figure out for months why the name "Bob Barr" rang so many of my primal bells--"Babar" was one of those words I knew before I could put a sentence together. The fact that Googling "bob barr babar" turns up 3,880 results (including, evidently, references to a joke Stephen Colbert made along these lines) suggests that maybe I should have realized this earlier.
By which I mean to say that's barrfect.
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Man Babar was the cutest cartoon ever. Fuck yeah.
You people are barrstards for getting him caught up in this.
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Babar: the movie was one of my favorite movies as a kid.
Who tailors his suits?
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Why, he has a habarrdasher, of course.
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JoJo was
a man who thought he was a woman.
/halfway bump
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i would advise changing the title,at first i thought this was a thread for "Fun" so to speak...