Hack

a dollar to anyone who can help

stuck on level 63... the fricking word could be ANYTHING damned letter changers.

LMAO... Winnie the POO should have been a clue right there HAHAHAHAAAAA

why grandma... what a big Vagoo you have... the better to be eaten by you my dear.

I am so happy for you

Blocks With Letters On | I Am Bored click on a letter then use the arrow keys to move

I love mine... and have comissioned another for my nieces wedding present. I should send some money for that soon. Love your work Em.

Snaf, you is a bastid... I will have to come back to this after I have gotten some sleep, I won't be counting sheep though

yep, not circumcised... there is no end to this dick

yep, that is the one, gives me shivers when you post it too Snaff. so much meaning behind it here still. we mint quarters with the poppy on it, done in red.

at another site someone asked what a Poppy tin was, I guess it is a bigger symbol to Canadian and the British, and not as widely known in the U.S. so I thought I would share the meaning. To the British and Canadians the poppy is the symbol we use to commemorate our war dead, it stems from a poem written in the field of battle during World War 1 by a Doctor in the Canadian Army. Each year Veterans sell, by donation, Poppies on a pin, to be worn as close to your heart as possible. 100% of the proceeds go to Veterans. The poem is read each year by schoolchildren in school as well as by others over the radio and T.V. it is a stirring piece that never fails to give me goosebumps. _______________________________________________________________________ In Flanders Fields By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army In Flanders Fields the poppies blow Between the crosses row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. In Flanders Field, Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

as well as those who gave their lives and went missing in action. my thanks

he is giving the motorboat, she is giving the put-put

not only can I smell the ocean, I can hear it too.

I managed to keep my grip on the cam-corder, but I lost my watch