|
Register | Blogging | Today's Posts | Search |
|
Thread Tools | Display Modes |
11-10-2019, 04:49 PM | #1091 (permalink) | |
Zum Henker Defätist!!
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: Beating GNR at DDR and keying Axl's new car
Posts: 48,199
|
I recognize I can't have women who don't want me. Do you recognize that now?
__________________
Quote:
|
|
11-10-2019, 04:51 PM | #1092 (permalink) |
one-balled nipple jockey
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: Dirty Souf Biatch
Posts: 22,006
|
How shocking that famous writers and thinkers have better lives than minimum way scrubs.
__________________
2016 2017 2018 2019 2020 Member of the Year & Journal of the Year Champion Behold the Writing of THE LEGEND: https://www.musicbanter.com/members-...p-lighter.html |
11-10-2019, 04:56 PM | #1093 (permalink) |
one-balled nipple jockey
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: Dirty Souf Biatch
Posts: 22,006
|
__________________
2016 2017 2018 2019 2020 Member of the Year & Journal of the Year Champion Behold the Writing of THE LEGEND: https://www.musicbanter.com/members-...p-lighter.html |
11-10-2019, 04:58 PM | #1094 (permalink) | |
Zum Henker Defätist!!
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: Beating GNR at DDR and keying Axl's new car
Posts: 48,199
|
Please save me from my friends.
__________________
Quote:
|
|
11-10-2019, 05:02 PM | #1095 (permalink) |
one-balled nipple jockey
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: Dirty Souf Biatch
Posts: 22,006
|
Listen ****head you’re in the gang whether you like it or not.
FLARLY we ride... we ride we ride
__________________
2016 2017 2018 2019 2020 Member of the Year & Journal of the Year Champion Behold the Writing of THE LEGEND: https://www.musicbanter.com/members-...p-lighter.html |
11-10-2019, 05:23 PM | #1097 (permalink) |
one-balled nipple jockey
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: Dirty Souf Biatch
Posts: 22,006
|
Me and my dogs love to buck **** **** the luck ****, strictly aim No aspirations to quit the game Spit your game, talk your **** Grab your Gat, call your clique Squeeze your clip, hit the right one Pass that weed, I got to light one All them niggas, I got to fight one All them hoes, I got to like one Our situation is a tight one Whatcha gonna do, fight or run?
__________________
2016 2017 2018 2019 2020 Member of the Year & Journal of the Year Champion Behold the Writing of THE LEGEND: https://www.musicbanter.com/members-...p-lighter.html |
11-10-2019, 05:30 PM | #1098 (permalink) |
Toasted Poster
Join Date: Oct 2014
Location: SoCal by way of Boston
Posts: 11,332
|
He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball, Or he felt like it, But mostly he didn't come at all. When he was young He never learned to heel Or sit or stay, He did things his way. Discipline was not his bag But when you were with him things sure didn't drag. He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me, And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me. He bit lots of folks from day to day, The delivery boy was his favorite prey. The gas man wouldn't read our meter, He said we owned a real man-eater. He set the house on fire But the story's long to tell. Suffice it to say that he survived And the house survived as well. On the evening walks, and Gloria took him, He was always first out the door. The Old One and I brought up the rear Because our bones were sore. He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on, What a beautiful pair they were! And if it was still light and the tourists were out, They created a bit of a stir. But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks And with a frown on his face look around. It was just to make sure that the Old One was there And would follow him where he was bound. We are early-to-bedders at our house I guess I'm the first to retire. And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me And get up from his place by the fire. He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs, And I'd give him one for a while. He would push it under the bed with his nose And I'd fish it out with a smile. And before very long He'd tire of the ball And be asleep in his corner In no time at all. And there were nights when I'd feel him Climb upon our bed And lie between us, And I'd pat his head. And there were nights when I'd feel this stare And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair. And sometimes I'd feel him sigh and I think I know the reason why. He would wake up at night And he would have this fear Of the dark, of life, of lots of things, And he'd be glad to have me near. And now he's dead. And there are nights when I think I feel him Climb upon our bed and lie between us, And I pat his head. And there are nights when I think I feel that stare And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair, But he's not there. Oh, how I wish that wasn't so, I'll always love a dog named Beau.
__________________
“The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be.” |
|