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Post by Don Quixote on Jul 1, 2011 23:56:02 GMT -5
We've tried it all. I got off the dong jokes. Mitch started photoshopping again. Ratso posted while drunk more often. Sia told us all about the fascinating world of call centres. Phantom told you all to get off his lawn with renewed vigor.
What does it take for you people? What must we do? Tell me! TELL ME, DAMN YOU!
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Post by Mitchell on Jul 2, 2011 7:22:56 GMT -5
I got off the dong jokes. Don't you mean you "got off the dong, jokes." |
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Post by mummifiedstalin on Jul 2, 2011 8:19:05 GMT -5
We should set some challenges. From now on, all jokes have to be about either medium level sudoku puzzles or lynx fur.
A CHALLENGE!
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Post by Phantom Engineer on Jul 2, 2011 8:59:55 GMT -5
Sounds like too much work. NOW GET OFFA MY LAWN!
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Post by Crowfan on Jul 2, 2011 9:39:29 GMT -5
GO TO BED, OLD MAN
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Post by Phantom Engineer on Jul 2, 2011 10:06:15 GMT -5
But I just got up.
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Post by Crowfan on Jul 2, 2011 10:11:58 GMT -5
Oh okay. Should I just mow your lawn, then?
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Post by Phantom Engineer on Jul 2, 2011 10:26:21 GMT -5
Yes, do that and you get a Heineken.
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Post by Crowfan on Jul 2, 2011 10:27:25 GMT -5
Consider it done, my friend.
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Post by Don Quixote on Jul 2, 2011 12:07:10 GMT -5
Crowfan would probably clean your car's fuel filter with her tongue for a Heiniken. And then she'd need something to wash the taste out with.
HI-OH!
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Post by siamesesin on Jul 4, 2011 11:53:30 GMT -5
I'm sorry, guys. There's only so much I can talk about Mummi's penis before it loses the mystery.
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Post by Crowfan on Jul 4, 2011 15:07:27 GMT -5
There was never any mystery.
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Post by Phantom Engineer on Jul 4, 2011 15:39:29 GMT -5
crowfan has detailed files.
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Post by Crowfan on Jul 4, 2011 15:43:45 GMT -5
Along with pictures.
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Post by Mitchell on Jul 4, 2011 16:34:59 GMT -5
and laser-validated 3d models precise to one-thousandth of an inch.
Every vein. Every blocked hair pore. Every pustule.
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