RoyalOrleans

Those damn British people, speaking British! The nerve of them! I can't speak British! What the fuck is colour? Col our what?

So you lease?

Correct! Have some rep!

I hated to hear about the tornado disaster, brother. I can't believe Americus still has a Winn-Dixie! I worked at a store through high school.

Jesus should actually be holding an AK-47 or an Uzi 9mm.

Maybe Jesus will time his return around the catastrophic events predicted and miracle my ass out of here. That would be the penultimate clash between science and religion. The proposed end of civilization, realized by the rational and the irrational respectively. .

What kind of shitheel calls a murf a shmuck?

You are lethally fucking middled.

Just a slanted observation... If Britney were black and popular in the black community, this would not be news worthy. In fact, we'd barely know who she was. Like Mary J. Blige... who the fuck is she? The media may focus on sensationalish, a circumstance that I can not argue, but pictures tell the tale. I draw my own conclusions from what I see or read, however I can't be held responsible for agreeing with over half my fellow GF members. The girl is in trouble, she needs help, but her cries are manifesting into attention whoring. I like whores, however. Prior to fucking up his own intervals, Federline was a whigger. At last check, he was still assuming himself to be a ****** of the black race. I eat it up and spit it back out. Celebrities, pop idols, etc have absolutely no bearing on my day to day life. However, if I ever feel like watching the evening news or CNN or FoxNews or read an article; I have to sift through the mindless bullshit to get to it.

You're more like a nut!

You want to know what some real bullshit is? It will take years, I mean years, for Pizza Hut, etc to find another place to hide the cheese. Bullshit! Invent more hidden cheese, ya carpetbaggers!

Banning Tomaust would only give him what he wants: attention. As he is getting right now.

Civil War Guns N' Roses (Excerpt from Cool Hand Luke. The brilliant Strother Martin as "Captain" famous speech.) "What we've got here is failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach... So, you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it! Well, he gets it! N' I don't like it any more than you men." Look at your young men fighting Look at your women crying Look at your young men dying The way they've always done before Look at the hate we're breeding Look at the fear we're feeding Look at the lives we're leading The way we've always done before My hands are tied The billions shift from side to side And the wars go on with brainwashed pride For the love of God and our human rights And all these things are swept aside By bloody hands time can't deny And are washed away by your genocide And history hides the lies of our civil wars D'you wear a black armband When they shot the man Who said "Peace could last forever" And in my first memories They shot Kennedy I went numb when I learned to see So I never fell for Vietnam We got the wall of D.C. to remind us all That you can't trust freedom When it's not in your hands When everybody's fightin' For their promised land And I don't need your civil war It feeds the rich while it buries the poor Your power hungry sellin' soldiers In a human grocery store Ain't that fresh I don't need your civil war Look at the shoes your filling Look at the blood we're spilling Look at the world we're killing The way we've always done before Look in the doubt we've wallowed Look at the leaders we've followed Look at the lies we've swallowed And I don't want to hear no more My hands are tied For all I've seen has changed my mind But still the wars go on as the years go by With no love of God or human rights 'Cause all these dreams are swept aside By bloody hands of the hypnotized Who carry the cross of homicide And history bears the scars of our civil wars "We practice selective annihilation of mayors And government officials For example to create a vacuum Then we fill that vacuum As popular war advances Peace is closer" I don't need your civil war It feeds the rich while it buries the poor Your power hungry sellin' soldiers In a human grocery store Ain't that fresh And I don't need your civil war I don't need your civil war I don't need your civil war Your power hungry sellin' soldiers In a human grocery store Ain't that fresh I don't need your civil war I don't need one more war I don't need one more war Whaz so civil 'bout war anyway

I reckon if Britney was black, you wouldn't make such a fuss about it. Ohh.. I've made some bad choices, but the difference is, I am not famous. I am not out there in the limelight whoring attention (wanted or unwanted). My bad choices are kept in a smaller, tighter circle than her bad choices. Now you make some sense. People can't see the good for all the fuck ups. I never said I "knew" her intimately! Christ, man! Stop beating it. I only know what I am force fed everytime I turn on the news... I'll give you that. However, but I do know her type. I never opine short of certainty and I lose patience with a cunt who's lot has improved.

I've been accused of being a frugal bastard, but there are a few things that I do not skimp on. They are; toilet paper, steak, vehicles, and computer hardware, my printer is no exception.

I had a Lexmark at one time. It got in a fight with my Ruger .9mm, the gun won. Believe it or not.

Haha... cute. Britney was an ugly teen with a fake blonde-do destined to show her actual tawny roots like she is showing her white trash roots now. At the very least, Anna won't be able to embarass herself anymore.

Hurt Johnny Cash I hurt myself today to see if I still feel I focus on the pain the only thing that's real the needle tears a hole the old familiar sting try to kill it all away but I remember everything what have I become? my sweetest friend everyone I know goes away in the end and you could have it all my empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt I wear this crown of thorns upon my liar's chair full of broken thoughts I cannot repair beneath the stains of time the feelings disappear you are someone else I am still right here what have I become? my sweetest friend everyone I know goes away in the end and you could have it all my empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt if I could start again a million miles away I would keep myself I would find a way

If you could see my thumb and index finger rubbing together, I would say to you, "You know what this is? This is the world's smallest fucking violin playing just for Britney Spears.". Since you can't see my miming tiny violin fucking impression, I will say this; Waahhh! Boo-fucking-hoo! She chose a fucking career path that would put her in the fucking limelight. If you can't take the heat then get your bald ass out of the kitchen. She's fucked in the head. I have no sympathy for her, the she's gotten herself in to, and I certainly could give a cunt hair what the bitch does from here on out.

You must be referring to the other Brittney who didn't shit out two screaming whelps.

Well, at least, I'll be down there with all my friends. I have a dog, by the way, a wire-haired dachshund named Geddy Lee. He's not as cool as my fat cat who ran away, but he's getting there. [attach=full]430[/attach]

Don't call me Sue. Plebian comes to mind. So does "simpleton".

Big River Johnny Cash Now I taught the weeping willow how to cry, And I showed the clouds how to cover up a clear blue sky. And the tears that I cried for that woman are gonna flood you Big River. Then I'm gonna sit right here until I die. I met her accidentally in St. Paul (Minnesota). And it tore me up every time I heard her drawl, Southern drawl. Then I heard my dream was back Downstream cavortin' in Davenport, And I followed you, Big River, when you called. Then you took me to St. Louis later on (down the river). A freighter said she's been here but she's gone, boy, she's gone. I found her trail in Memphis, but she just walked up the block. She raised a few eyebrows and then she went on down alone. Now, won't you batter down by Baton Rouge, River Queen, roll it on. Take that woman on down to New Orleans, New Orleans. Go on, I've had enough; dump my blues down in the gulf. She loves you, Big River, more than me. Now I taught the weeping willow how to cry, cry, cry And I showed the clouds how to cover up a clear blue sky. And the tears that I cried for that woman are gonna flood you Big River. Then I'm gonna sit right here until I die.

Not big enought to even mount.

Use the term "shitheel". It is a term that transcends race, gender, creed, national origin, religion, and affiliations.