I refuse to be drawn in by your evil wiles; if we start a punning
competition this thread will just go on uselessly forever, hai?
rainee wrote:
High, Sam, how are you? Yes, I spelled hi wrong intentionally. That
message made me laugh
Update your CD collection. Checkout
http://www.raineemusic.com.
Crazy 'bout beading? Try
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
----- Original Message ----- From: "Samuel Proulx" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: "talk2" <[email protected]>
Sent: Tuesday, October 30, 2007 9:07 AM
Subject: The Talk2 List ooh oh oooooh yeah ride the bacon train!
chugga chugga chugga chugga chugga chugga chugga tomato! Woooo Wooo!
Yeah, that's how it goes in and out and in and out and up and down
the hallways of my reality yesterday evening before me's fleas and
bees made she's sneeze and weeze to please and tease the cheese.
Yes, your honor. I will testify! I am a hep cat! I have not got
sausage! I have a digital nose that knows it blows to close the woes
that froze the clothes in snows of foes. I will not be exploded or
stuffed! Will you palpitate my palpus like it was perfect and we
weren't all made of stars that are starting to melt inside our rayon
panties in the glare of the public pubis? Pretend, please! Perhaps
proudly, probably promptly. Previous pickpocket Patricia's picked
problematic porpoises. This is 1948, and I am glad, glad, glad,
glad, glad, glad! Excuse me while I determine this rabbit. Does it
love clingfree like I love you? Do you love me like clingfree to?
Can we walk on the beaches of Taltron III and exchange acidic kisses
by the nitrogen ocean under a pink sky? Yes! For we have tantacles,
now. We are free to be or not to be. To love from above. Have you
ever tasted rape? I bet it's not like peaches and cream would seem.
I will give you the moon, no downpayments required, because I feel
the cords of your sorrow binding my spleen. Will you smile for me,
Jordene? I can't wear your socks, for I am not a lesbian. So I put
your experiences in containers on my bookshelf. Sometimes I take
them down and hold them. I can feel them pulsing. They pulse for
me, so I will understand. But I don't. Maybe if I had some apple
sauce I could plum the depths of the universe. But I doubt it.
What's the point? The baby just turns into a pig, in the end; maybe
if we beat it harder next time, it will become a gyroscope. That
would show that pussy! But it won't; it just cycles and cycles and
cycles and you go back to the start of the last part and it cycles
and cycles again. The fabric on this chair is warn, and existence is
futile. You might as well do drugs. But it won't help. Just ask the
chair.
Did you miss a message? Well, don't.
http://www.mail-archive.com/talk2%40andrelouis.com/
has it for you. Never miss a Talk2 message again.
Did you miss a message? Well, don't.
http://www.mail-archive.com/talk2%40andrelouis.com/
has it for you. Never miss a Talk2 message again.
Did you miss a message? Well, don't.
http://www.mail-archive.com/talk2%40andrelouis.com/
has it for you. Never miss a Talk2 message again.
