Keep your stupid questions to your stupid self.

[LMNO]

I'm sorry, did you think I was referring to people like us?

[Malaul]

us?

[Bob the Mediocre]

Who don't need an excuse, possibly?

[LMNO]

Ya think?

[DJRubberducky]

Should I be thinking?

[LMNO]

Why do you ask?

[Irreverend Hugh, KSC]

Does it matter?

[Nikoli Volkoff]

why should it matter?

[saint aini]

Why can't we all get along?

[Horab Fibslager]

why can't we all stick apart?

[saint aini]

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
   Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
   The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
   Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
   And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
   No more; and by a sleep to say we end
   The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
   That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
   Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
   To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
   For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
   When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
   Must give us pause: there's the respect
   That makes calamity of so long life;
   For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
   The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
   The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
   The insolence of office and the spurns
   That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
   When he himself might his quietus make
   With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
   To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
   But that the dread of something after death,
   The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
   No traveller returns, puzzles the will
   And makes us rather bear those ills we have
   Than fly to others that we know not of?
   Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
   And thus the native hue of resolution
   Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
   And enterprises of great pith and moment
   With this regard their currents turn awry,
   And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
   The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
   Be all my sins remember'd.

[Irreverend Hugh, KSC]

What the ringled tailed rambling refigerator is all that nonsense?

[saint aini]

Why can't St. Hugh stab himself?

[Malaul]

and ruin his perfection?

[saint aini]

Why would Hugh be the perfect stabber unless he stabbed himself to death with as much artistry he stabs others?