🚀 go-pugleaf

On 25-Dec-2006, ah <splifingate@gmail.com> wrote:

> Holly wrote:
> > ah wrote:
> >> Holly wrote:
> >> > ah wrote:
> >> >> Holly wrote:
> >> >> > Charles D. Bohne wrote:
> >> >> >> On 10 Dec 2006 15:46:44 -0800, "Holly" <noon_union@yahoo.com>
> >> >> >wrote:
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> >Ohhhhh I jist haets u bullies.
> >> >> >> >
> >> >> >> >And just look at all the mistakes I made, you have me so upset!
> >> >> >> >
> >> >> >> >Leave me alone!!!
> >> >> >> >Crap!
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> I need of help?
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> Just call for AtomSuperCharles!
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> HoHoHo!!!!!!!!!!
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> C.
> >> >> >
> >> >> > At least I fooled them and sneaked back in under a sekrit nick.  I
> >> >> >got
> >> >> > to play the Idiotbot 14k and didn't lose too badly ~ just by 92
> >> >> >pts. ;)
> >> >> >  At least I could play without feeling so anxious.  So now I have
> >> >> >to
> >> >> > sneak, sneak, sneak.  They have taken over the Go website . . .
> >> >> >many
> >> >> > nicks and different levels of skill so they can stomp on poor
> >> >> > unsuspecting Go beginner players.  They must feel pretty bad about
> >> >> > themselves if they get their jollies from such activities.  AND
> >> >> >that
> >> >> > includes Ah.  He isn't so nice as he tries to make everyone think
> >> >> >he is.
> >> >> >
> >> >>
> >> >> Bitch!
> >> >>
> >> >> I love you.
> >> >> --
> >> >
> >> >
> >> >
> >> > Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off
> >> > any weather at all, and another storm brewing;
> >> > I hear it sing i' the wind: yond same black
> >> > cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul
> >> > bombard that would shed his liquor. If it
> >> > should thunder as it did before, I know not
> >> > where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot
> >> > choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we
> >> > here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish:
> >> > he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-
> >> > like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-
> >> > John. A strange fish! Were I in England now,
> >> > as once I was, and had but this fish painted,
> >> > not a holiday fool there but would give a piece
> >> > of silver: there would this monster make a
> >> > man; any strange beast there makes a man:
> >> > when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame
> >> > beggar, they will lazy out ten to see a dead
> >> > Indian. Legged like a man and his fins like
> >> > arms! Warm o' my troth! I do now let loose
> >> > my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no fish,
> >> > but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a
> >> > thunderbolt.
> >> >
> >>
> >> I shall no more to sea, to sea,
> >> Here shall I die ashore--
> >> This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's
> >> funeral: well, here's my comfort.
> >>
> >> *drinks* . . . *sings*

add some lime juice to your rum. m'dear. It might not stop the scurvy toon
but it will help your teeth stop droppin' out. (This wos a pubic service
announcement form Captain Wim a scurvy old seadog wot always looks after his
crew.)

> >> -- 
> >
> >
> > the folly of this island!

There are no Folletts on this island. Me and me hearties shot 'im.

> lalalalalalalalalalalalaalalalalalaallalalalalalalalalalalaalalalalalalalaa

Oh shite! we need no ululating muslim female wailers on this night of all
nights! Could one of you aryans shoot her, please?

-- 
Wim Jay

-- 
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