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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 12, 2010 at 4:45 pm
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 13, 2010 at 1:43 am
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from
Intelligence is the only true moral guide...
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 13, 2010 at 2:02 am
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from her machine gun jublies (how did I miss those, baby?)
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 13, 2010 at 4:59 am
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from her machine gun jublies (how did I miss those, baby?) which totally spoiled
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 13, 2010 at 2:54 pm
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from her machine gun jublies (how did I miss those, baby?) which totally spoiled the blood bath sacrifice she was longing for during the
Intelligence is the only true moral guide...
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 13, 2010 at 3:15 pm
(July 13, 2010 at 2:54 pm)Samson Wrote: One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from her machine gun jublies (how did I miss those, baby?) which totally spoiled the blood bath sacrifice she was longing for during the hunting (of homosexuals) season...
'We must respect the other fellow's religion, but only in the sense and to the extent that we respect his theory that his wife is beautiful and his children smart.' H.L. Mencken
'False religion' is the ultimate tautology.
'It is just like man's vanity and impertinence to call an animal dumb because it is dumb to his dull perceptions.' Mark Twain
'I care not much for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it.' Abraham Lincoln
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 14, 2010 at 1:41 am
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from her machine gun jublies (how did I miss those, baby?) which totally spoiled the blood bath sacrifice she was longing for during the hunting (of homosexuals) season...She then realized that she should have been wasting her ammo on witches. However,
Intelligence is the only true moral guide...
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 14, 2010 at 3:46 am
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from her machine gun jublies (how did I miss those, baby?) which totally spoiled the blood bath sacrifice she was longing for during the hunting (of homosexuals) season...She then realized that she should have been wasting her ammo on witches. However, wasting is wasting
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 17, 2010 at 7:59 pm
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from her machine gun jublies (how did I miss those, baby?) which totally spoiled the blood bath sacrifice she was longing for during the hunting (of homosexuals) season...She then realized that she should have been wasting her ammo on witches. However, wasting is wasting my time you
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RE: Continuous sentence game
July 17, 2010 at 8:19 pm
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan: they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and took all his clothes off, revealing a tattoo the size of a small individual pork pie. Once reveled, he started running up and down the streets screaming the words, "Soup, soup, a tasty soup, soup! A spicy carrot and corriander!! [Chilli Chowder!] CRUTON CRUTON! Crunchy friends in a liquid broth! I am dispatchio, oh! I am missala soho. Misso misso, Fighting in the Dojo, Misso misso... Oriental friends in the land of SOUP!"
exceeding three words was worse than a fate worse than death, making it doubly worse than death...which is annoying. Then suddenly out of the bushes Samson jumped out waving his enormous, spotty something or other flag hoping that it would be seen by the brutal misfits.
Once everything calmed down the Cult leaders showed up and ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! - IT'S SARAH PALIN.... ON THE SHITTER!!! trying to breast feed a baby Moose, but then went the sound of gunshots fired out from her machine gun jublies (how did I miss those, baby?) which totally spoiled the blood bath sacrifice she was longing for during the hunting (of homosexuals) season...She then realized that she should have been wasting her ammo on witches. However, wasting is wasting my time you just can't drink
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