Big Dick McGee
If you don't know, now ya know
...and it's c-c-c-old, too cold to go outside, you know.
I suck, sorry, but I'll make it up.
I suck, sorry, but I'll make it up.
Troll Kingdom
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I fell asleep!
- Thread starter Big Dick McGee
- Start date
Eggs Mayonnaise
All In With The Nuts
You slept thru the Super Bowl???? :shock:
Me too.
Me too.
CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
Imagine if you had died in your sleep? You'd be dead without ever knowing it.
FBI parte due
Folces Weard
Unless there really is an afterlife, in which case he'd be in a boiling river of blood being shot at buy centaurs.
headvoid
Can I have Ops?
Centaurs never had guns in my day - the bloody kids now adays, it's shocking, all Glock 9mm with their eternal damnation. In my day, everlasting pain floating down dantes rings and maybe the odd hot poker up the other kind of ring were enough but no, oh no, now it's all AK47's if you please.
Seventh Level of Hell
Guarded by the Minotaur, who snarls in fury, and encircled within the river Phlegethon, filled with boiling blood, is the Seventh Level of Hell. The violent, the assasins, the tyrants, and the war-mongers lament their pitiless mischiefs in the river, while centaurs armed with bows and arrows shoot those who try to escape their punishment. The stench here is overpowering. This level is also home to the wood of the suicides- stunted and gnarled trees with twisting branches and poisoned fruit. At the time of final judgement, their bodies will hang from their branches. In those branches the Harpies, foul birdlike creatures with human faces, make their nests. Beyond the wood is scorching sand where those who committed violence against God and nature are showered with flakes of fire that rain down against their naked bodies. Blasphemers and sodomites writhe in pain, their tongues more loosed to lamentation, and out of their eyes gushes forth their woe. Usurers, who followed neither nature nor art, also share company in the Seventh Level.
Guarded by the Minotaur, who snarls in fury, and encircled within the river Phlegethon, filled with boiling blood, is the Seventh Level of Hell. The violent, the assasins, the tyrants, and the war-mongers lament their pitiless mischiefs in the river, while centaurs armed with bows and arrows shoot those who try to escape their punishment. The stench here is overpowering. This level is also home to the wood of the suicides- stunted and gnarled trees with twisting branches and poisoned fruit. At the time of final judgement, their bodies will hang from their branches. In those branches the Harpies, foul birdlike creatures with human faces, make their nests. Beyond the wood is scorching sand where those who committed violence against God and nature are showered with flakes of fire that rain down against their naked bodies. Blasphemers and sodomites writhe in pain, their tongues more loosed to lamentation, and out of their eyes gushes forth their woe. Usurers, who followed neither nature nor art, also share company in the Seventh Level.
CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
That quiz is too fucking long¬!
CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
Pimpin' ain't easy.