Say something.......

Geyser_Mountain_Dreamer

I'm training hard and trying to master telekinesis, but I haven't moved one damn thing yet.

jkowula

Confucius say... man who gets kicked in the groin is left holding the bag.

kelseyhere

I'm giving up on you.

Fit_NYC_

Bollocks

Oscarinmiami

it was 85 here too! lol

sklarbodds

Haha.. Yes, I did hear the song which gave me the inspiration to post this compelling topic.:glasses: :ohwell:

And now you have that song in all of our heads...how do you sleep at night

Oh, I'm rocking a killer sweater and slacks today and my beard looks especially flowing.

Pics or it never happened.

Bam.

bloominheck

Remember that time in the forums a few months back when i made that comment about brazillian bikini wax to you lol. That was funny

LOL.. I do remember..still laughing:bigsmile:

bloominheck

Haha.. Yes, I did hear the song which gave me the inspiration to post this compelling topic.:glasses: :ohwell:

And now you have that song in all of our heads...how do you sleep at night

Oh, I'm rocking a killer sweater and slacks today and my beard looks especially flowing.

Pics or it never happened.

Bam.


Nice pix!

PatheticNoetic

I just woke up. It's going to warm here today as well- 32C. I'm not wake enough to convert that to F.

sassypants0923

supercalafragalisticexpialadoshus

JocyChan

Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'll be the one, if you want me to
Anywhere I would've followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you

Dear lord save me from this....

stuck in my head now. :P

ldashelle

Say something?

"All I wanna do is a zoom-a-zoom, zoom, and boom boom. Just shake ya' rump!"

Was just listening to the song.

mank32

Smudge is a verb
But also a noun
Isn't it weird
How it's pronounced?

:laugh: :happy: :smooched: :blushing: :flowerforyou:

Lemmy_Gonau

Miscerdee Miscerdum
I picked a booger with my thumb

Miscer discer biscer boo
I rolled it up *flick* off it flew

Miscery discery dock
it landed on my big flaccid sock

Pardon me miscer... can you spare a quarter?

...something.

sassypants0923

Miscerdee Miscerdum
I picked a booger with my thumb

Miscer discer biscer boo
I rolled it up *flick* off it flew

Miscery discery dock
it landed on my big flaccid sock

Pardon me miscer... can you spare a quarter?

...something.

He's so dang CUTE! **Squeeeeeze**

SGM_Adonis

Things get broken
at home
like they were pushed
by an invisible, deliberate smasher.
It's not my hands
or yours
It wasn't the girls
with their hard fingernails
or the motion of the planet.
It wasn't anything or anybody
It wasn't the wind
It wasn't the orange-colored noontime
Or night over the earth
It wasn't even the nose or the elbow
Or the hips getting bigger
or the ankle
or the air.
The plate broke, the lamp fell
All the flower pots tumbled over
one by one. That pot
which overflowed with scarlet
in the middle of October,
it got tired from all the violets
and another empty one
rolled round and round and round
all through winter
until it was only the powder
of a flowerpot,
a broken memory, shining dust.

And that clock
whose sound
was
the voice of our lives,
the secret
thread of our weeks,
which released
one by one, so many hours
for honey and silence
for so many births and jobs,
that clock also
fell
and its delicate blue guts
vibrated
among the broken glass
its wide heart
unsprung.

Life goes on grinding up
glass, wearing out clothes
making fragments
breaking down
forms
and what lasts through time
is like an island on a ship in the sea,
perishable
surrounded by dangerous fragility
by merciless waters and threats.

Let's put all our treasures together
-- the clocks, plates, cups cracked by the cold --
into a sack and carry them
to the sea
and let our possessions sink
into one alarming breaker
that sounds like a river.
May whatever breaks
be reconstructed by the sea
with the long labor of its tides.
So many useless things
which nobody broke
but which got broken anyway.

sassypants0923

Things get broken
at home
like they were pushed
by an invisible, deliberate smasher.
It's not my hands
or yours
It wasn't the girls
with their hard fingernails
or the motion of the planet.
It wasn't anything or anybody
It wasn't the wind
It wasn't the orange-colored noontime
Or night over the earth
It wasn't even the nose or the elbow
Or the hips getting bigger
or the ankle
or the air.
The plate broke, the lamp fell
All the flower pots tumbled over
one by one. That pot
which overflowed with scarlet
in the middle of October,
it got tired from all the violets
and another empty one
rolled round and round and round
all through winter
until it was only the powder
of a flowerpot,
a broken memory, shining dust.

And that clock
whose sound
was
the voice of our lives,
the secret
thread of our weeks,
which released
one by one, so many hours
for honey and silence
for so many births and jobs,
that clock also
fell
and its delicate blue guts
vibrated
among the broken glass
its wide heart
unsprung.

Life goes on grinding up
glass, wearing out clothes
making fragments
breaking down
forms
and what lasts through time
is like an island on a ship in the sea,
perishable
surrounded by dangerous fragility
by merciless waters and threats.

Let's put all our treasures together
-- the clocks, plates, cups cracked by the cold --
into a sack and carry them
to the sea
and let our possessions sink
into one alarming breaker
that sounds like a river.
May whatever breaks
be reconstructed by the sea
with the long labor of its tides.
So many useless things
which nobody broke
but which got broken anyway.

WAY tl:dr

Lemmy_Gonau

tl:dr???

too long, didn't ride?

SGM_Adonis

Things get broken
at home
like they were pushed
by an invisible, deliberate smasher.
It's not my hands
or yours
It wasn't the girls
with their hard fingernails
or the motion of the planet.
It wasn't anything or anybody
It wasn't the wind
It wasn't the orange-colored noontime
Or night over the earth
It wasn't even the nose or the elbow
Or the hips getting bigger
or the ankle
or the air.
The plate broke, the lamp fell
All the flower pots tumbled over
one by one. That pot
which overflowed with scarlet
in the middle of October,
it got tired from all the violets
and another empty one
rolled round and round and round
all through winter
until it was only the powder
of a flowerpot,
a broken memory, shining dust.

And that clock
whose sound
was
the voice of our lives,
the secret
thread of our weeks,
which released
one by one, so many hours
for honey and silence
for so many births and jobs,
that clock also
fell
and its delicate blue guts
vibrated
among the broken glass
its wide heart
unsprung.

Life goes on grinding up
glass, wearing out clothes
making fragments
breaking down
forms
and what lasts through time
is like an island on a ship in the sea,
perishable
surrounded by dangerous fragility
by merciless waters and threats.

Let's put all our treasures together
-- the clocks, plates, cups cracked by the cold --
into a sack and carry them
to the sea
and let our possessions sink
into one alarming breaker
that sounds like a river.
May whatever breaks
be reconstructed by the sea
with the long labor of its tides.
So many useless things
which nobody broke
but which got broken anyway.

WAY tl:dr

Your loss.

cursiny

Haha.. Yes, I did hear the song which gave me the inspiration to post this compelling topic.:glasses: :ohwell:

And now you have that song in all of our heads...how do you sleep at night

Oh, I'm rocking a killer sweater and slacks today and my beard looks especially flowing.

Pics or it never happened.

Bam.

NICE

bloominheck

Haha.. Yes, I did hear the song which gave me the inspiration to post this compelling topic.:glasses: :ohwell:

And now you have that song in all of our heads...how do you sleep at night

Oh, I'm rocking a killer sweater and slacks today and my beard looks especially flowing.

Pics or it never happened.

Bam.

NICE

Back off he's mine.... but I do share.

prima073

Something.

mostafaaaaaaa

Say something ok .........

غني الحرية دي اجمل غنوة في الوجود

شمس الحرية اتولدت ولا يمكن تموت

فارس عقليته مقاومة وحياته الصمود

غني وعدى المستحيل كل اماله الحرية

وسط الضلمه كان دليل صحي الشمس المصرية

ولع فلام..... يمحي ظلام......ينشرحرية

للكرة حياتي لكن لبللادي اموت

وافديها بعمري راح زمن السكوت

شمس الحرية

The translations is

Sing for freedom it's the best song in presence

Sun of freedom born and can't die

knight his mentality is resistance and his life is to withstand

He sing and across the impossible all his hopes is freedom

Inside the darkness he was the clue and he wake up the Egyptian sun

He flame the light...... he wash out the dark ...... he spread the freedom

Football is my life but for my country i will die

And i will give my life for, the time of silence gone.

Sun of the freedom

This is just a part of song made by ultras white knights to the Egyptians who were killed in the last three years for freedom.

and i said something Alsalamu alikoum people here ( peace to you)

Momto4minions

I hope it is possible to freeze my *kitten* off....feet of snow and still falling....AHHHH

teamAmelia

I'm giving up on you

:laugh: Exactly what I was going to say.

the_summer_belle

Why cant the aussies win gold at the winter olympics

RyanJK85

I hate my job working nights

V0lver

Remember that time in the forums a few months back when i made that comment about brazillian bikini wax to you lol. That was funny

LOL.. I do remember..still laughing:bigsmile:

:bigsmile: ok i have a question. It really doesnt bother you when people send you blank friend requests? Don't lie!

SunKissed1989

I like cheese…..mmmmmm cheeeeeeeeese :happy:

HunterKiller_deleted

Plunge.