It's entirely possible. I remember making inane amounts of posts in a matter of days, and apparently, not a lot of them were spam.
I would brb for food but I'm having wisdom teeth surgery today
I would choose FFVII. There's a reason it's so acclaimed; the gameplay is fun and the story is absolutely beautiful if I may say so myself.
YO DAWG I HERD YOU LIKE ETHNOCENTRISM SO WE PUT SOME ETHNIC GROUPS IN LESSER CATEGORIES SO YOU CAN LOOK DOWN ON THEMa
That may have been a bad idea. And I highlighted your post in red on purpose, yes I did. :lolface:
I haven't even lost 100 posts
profile hurr durr Spoiler In the name of better quality, I eat a cheeseburger Spoiler
ilu gaiz <3
Well **** me if a festering wound is going to stop me from having a good time.
[I developed a festering wound on the bottom of my foot] Good times. Also I'm back if that's not entirely obvious by now.
Fanks :B
I'm with you; I at least keep my desktop organized.
SKITTLES SKITTLES SKITTLES SKITTLE SSKITTL ESSKIT LESSKI TLEKLWEtkljgkjlfad
This is why you SAVE OFTEN
Maybe in Hell Okay, upon further reviewing of the rules I find that I am allowed to post this, as long as I warn everyone that it contains violent and disturbing stuff and it is most definitely not for kids. So everyone, I warn you that this poem contains violent and disturbing stuff and it is most definitely not for kids. Spoiler I saw them walking down the street, their words accented by their feet; Embracing, basking in the love that they had thought that they had earned. But here I turned around to see him rip her heart out right before her eyes, And then he gave it to me; such a warm and bittersweet suprise. He turns to me, he tells me "Don't you worry for her life, "She'll be fine, I said I loved her, she'll get over this in time." And even though she was still breathing, I could feel her sorrow seething; Yes, she was alive, but she felt so dead inside. Then the boy who broke her heart just turned away and left her there, To start again, with no one in the world to care. And there she cried. Her life had laid there in my hands, and there I beckoned her to rise, Because although she lost her heart, her head was hers, and so was mine. She lay there, loveless, soulless, she had lost her heart with what he'd done; She gave him love and kindness and he gave her want to eat a gun. What good was this, with red now splattered all across the floor? What would be left of a girl who cried inside forevermore? A towel for the blood she left and then another for her tears Had graced the words I tried to give against the things that were her fears; "You'll never love another" are the words that reach her troubled ears. And now this love loaded a gun as a bullet kiss for her; All she needed to do now was pull the mother****ing trigger. Cue myself, I plead to her, I tell her this is not the answer. I took her heart, I held it gently, then I handed it back to her; I took her up, I took her part, and tried my very best to help her. Here she claimed she was insane, that something was wrong in her brain, That there was something wrong with her because she dared believe in love. For this, she said that she deserved the pain that he had given her. She told me it was all her fault, I told her that it wasn't true, She told me she deserved the noose, that she deserved a noose. I argued, begged, and pleaded with her, I knew that somewhere she was needed. Someone, somewhere had to love her, at least, one person; that I knew. She said that this world was never meant for her; She pulled that trigger; A bullet kiss shot from that barrel, and then she was gone forever. I never heard the shot reverberate off every wall and floor, I never heard her scream for me, scream at me, like she would no more. I never could have known that she had done what I wished she wouldn't, There was no warning for me, I would have stopped her but I couldn't. She said that no one loved her, but I knew at least one person did; I loved her, she took my heart with her; I never told her, I wish I did. She had blamed herself for what her man had done instead, A sweet and sorrow sonnet sang its way in circles, 'round her head. And although she thought she was insane, and on the inside, dead; She is not the one who caused this; HE WAS ****ED UP IN THE HEAD. He had taken out her heart and left her there with something cold, A change of plans, a change of girls; to him she was growing old. And now I sit here, on this street where he had started all this hell, And here he held another girl, another one who did him well. My anger here seethed like the sorrow that had from that girl that was no more, She did this to her of his choice, and she was gone forevermore. I followed him and his new girlfriend silently to their front door, They opened it and they went in, and there he knocked her to the floor. I saw it all from my front window, I heard it from my peeking perch; The sound of her hitting the ground as that boy stood and struck her down. I opened up the door as he was screaming at his girl, He was shouting bloody murder, I screamed back at him even louder, "Is it better for you now that she lies injured on the ground While the girl I loved lies six feet under; that's where she is now! So look at where you put them now, look at where they fell; Because I hope that she can give you just what you deserve in hell." And here I turn the gun to him; I say I'm doing it for her. I load the barrel, cock it, line it up and pull that ****ing trigger. And now I'm turning to the girl who's beaten black and blue. This never was her fault, she never knew just what that boy would do. She's petrified in fear now, I can see it in her eyes; That look of sorrow, fear, and anguish, and above it all, surprise. But I just walk right by her as she begs me for her life; She did nothing to deserve this, she was just the devil's wife. And now I walk back out that door that I had trespassed with before, And I left that bruised and beaten girl with the devil, on the floor. And there she cried. And now the flashing lights and sirens greet me at this door, The cops there point their guns at me, and tell me to get on the floor. But I don't need their bullets, I can use my own instead; So I take the gun that's in my hand and raise it to my head. And here they tell me not to do it, like they don't want me to die. But I don't even feel so nervous, even though I start to cry. "So maybe we can meet in hell, and finally be together" Is the last thought inside my head as I cock the gun and pull the trigger~
No, that was the complete opposite of your point. I was arguing against you.
I lost my house and my car to stairs. I got a new house but I had to get a second mortgage to pay off my debt to stairs. Stairs ruined my life.
Pretty good. I've been writing a lot lately. You?
Go for it, man. Share it if you really think it's that good.
The tape is optional, holding them together would be just as effective if not a bit more time consuming. Anything that can stick two objects together is also an option.
