posted November 08, 2000 05:28 PM

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So I'm off to the Heat Sonic game tonight...ya think they have a chance in hell of winning...they are hurting

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My father was a relentlessly selfimproving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts for being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we�d make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Wilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum...it�s breathtaking. I suggest you try it.

posted November 08, 2000 05:31 PM

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"Better to be hated for who you are than loved for someone you are not." -Peter Steele (Type O Negative)

posted November 09, 2000 09:55 AM

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"Better to be hated for who you are than loved for someone you are not." -Peter Steele (Type O Negative)

posted November 09, 2000 10:06 AM

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Captin Insano...I hate you for who you are...yet I love you for someone you are not....quite beathtaking really

[This message has been edited by AGENT SHAGWELL (edited November 09, 2000).]

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