Well I'm the noob, the philosophy and internet forum is all here too so all we need now is grey goo.
PD may suddenly accelerate to dangerous speeds. If PD splits open, do not look directly at resulting goo. PD is still legal in 14 states.
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Show posts MenuQuote from: Lenin/McCarthy on July 27, 2012, 02:12:40 PM
It is possible to have cancer in multiple places.
Anyway, to me you seem more like a minor diarrheal infection. Nasty, but not really lethal.
Quote from: The Dead Reverend Roger on July 27, 2012, 01:51:39 PMQuote from: Forsooth on July 27, 2012, 02:05:08 AM
Internal me yells obscenities, External me shrugs.
This is your problem, Mac.
Quote from: Lenin/McCarthy on July 27, 2012, 01:29:06 PM
Don't you worry. Just get a Mormon to baptize you post-mortem.
Quote from: Placid Dingo on July 27, 2012, 12:58:06 PMQuote from: Ecstasy on July 27, 2012, 09:55:40 AMQuote from: Sir Bearington on July 27, 2012, 09:42:54 AM
And FYI ectasy is likely to troll you in some way or other.
Oh yeah, I'm real scary. Whoooooooo.
Im in ECSTACY whenever we're togetherrrr!
I'm in ECSTACY twenty four seveeeeeeen!
Hello.
Quote from: TEXAS FAIRIES FOR ALL YOU SPAGS on July 27, 2012, 04:56:58 AM
"Flordia". "Bible stories". http://www.torontosun.com/2012/07/25/florida-puppeteer-plotted-to-cook-and-eat-children-cops
Quote from: Cain on July 02, 2012, 07:28:44 PM
Here's my entry:
I'm sure some of you are now saying "but Cain, that's exactly what the front page looks like right now."
Yes. It is.
The problem with PD isn't software based, there isn't a software solution. No amount of rearranging deckchairs is going to change the fact that it is people's attitudes that need to change, not our "web 2.0 user drive feedback functionality" bullshit.
If it makes you feel any better, I saved the screenshot in Paint, so it's kinda WOMP.
Quotehomeland
The hills of my homeland are calling to me softly, sweetly.
Many voyages spent upon the waves to far away lands both near and far, to lands both arid and prosperous paved with cloth and gold do we embark on the backs of dragons carved of wood.
But now with my spoils i return home from my bloody and heathen work which both labours and kills leaving widows, orphans and burnt villages and chapels all blowing over like smoke in the wind.
I am not the man i once was but the softness of the solid solidarity of the ground and gentle blades of grass i tread upon mellow the very fabric of my heart and soul and uplift my spirits to greet kindly those i once knew and those i torn askew.
My axe growing heavy in my hand, and my armour growing stiff i know the time has come as i pass my prime to give up my role for good and be one with the land and fall victim to the travellers of the sea...