At 11/24/09 06:17 PM, EJR wrote: http://www.newgrounds.com/bbs/topic/1124 701

Lurk first, post later.

suck my dick first, talk later ;D

guy find out his dad is charles manson.
wouldn't that be a pleasant surprise?

pretty much anyone can say the things you people are saying, you aint that bright

if you're so smart then why can't you get any friends

man i love having the flu, it makes me feel so good yet so terrible, its like having a good excuse to do nothing

rig when did you get all modded the fuck up again?

just fuck as many guys as you can in the allocated time

At 11/15/09 11:34 PM, ThePhantomGamer wrote: Mallrats

fuck yeah, mallrats.

i'd say anything bill murray, hes a funny guy

once you look at the 'werewolves' you'll see that its purely for money

At 11/15/09 06:46 PM, DumbassDude wrote:

At 11/15/09 06:44 PM, JKMonkey wrote: that movie is so old i mean really, who hasnt seen it?

I can imagine his mother just recently allowed him to watch such films.

Under adult supervision of course.

hey so what?

yeah, but trips down memory lane are always fun.
'sides, what are we gonna talk about? fucking 2012? OH YEAH THATS A BRILLIANT MOVIE

saw that movie last night, it's the fucking shit, go rent it, download it, whatever now, its just 2 hours of awesome.
on another note i saw the matrix again, haven't seen it since it first came out, its even more awesome than it was back then

they aren't ignorant, they just don't talk to you

once on a very misty foggy morning, i walked past a football oval and saw a crow perched ontop of a football post. it looked amazing

walk in.
see this.
what do

good luck at the fuck part

i understand completely and am sucking up ur ass

no, because she's a woman, and she's doing what women do.
Cleaning and handjobs.

At 11/12/09 01:53 PM, Sh0T-D0wN wrote:

At 11/12/09 01:50 PM, Psycho666 wrote: Do you prefer sleeping alone, or with someone else in the bed?

There's always someone else in the bed. Even if you can't see them.

i like the little teddy hitlers holding

a dildo

the goombas!

it depends

I was on a stationary bike at the gym today when I noticed Thom Yorke walking towards me in a white tracksuit. He wore lots of sweatbands, and looked like a gangster Bjorn Borg.

"Not again," I whispered under my breath.

Thom smiled and raised his sports drink up, as if toasting me. "Acceeeeeeeeeeeeelerade!" he declared. He seemed to be in a really good mood.

I nodded to acknolwedge his gesture and then turned up the volume on my iPod.

Thom climbed on an elliptical machine to my right. I could tell he didn't usually come to the gym. He turned the speed on his machine up way too high. He kept getting hit in the chest by the moving poles.

"I'm on a roooooooooolllll!" he exclaimed.

I felt really embarrassed for him, so I decided to try to help.

"Look Thom," I explained, "you've got to adjust the speed here. Like this. Otherwise you might hurt yourself."

"It's gonnna be a glooooooorious day!"

"Your welcome."

I decided I'd had enough of the machines and decided to put some time in the weight room. Luckily, there was no sign of Thom.

I went to the locker room and began to get changed. I heard strange chanting from the shower.

"I'll swaaaaallow till I burst! Uuuuuuuuuuntil I burst!"

With great trepidation, I walked to the entrance to the shower room. Thom Yorke was there, wearing a Union Jack speedo and swim goggles.

He was singing. "I will not cooooooontrol myself!"

When he saw me, he became really excited. He began running around the shower, turning on other faucets.

"I don't need a shower, Thom."

"Don't leave me drrrryyyyyyyyyyy!"

"I'm leaving now, Thom."

He began to pout. I hate it when he does that. He looks so sad and lonely.

"Look Thom," I said, against my better judgement, "want to come over to my place to play some Hungry Hungry Hippos?"

Thom began to do his shuffle dance.

"I have to warn you, one of the heads is broken off, so it will be an uneven match."

"Hiiiiiipos! Hungry, hungry hiiiiiipos!"

"All right, but you have to promise not to sing that song while we play."

There was a shriek and he was enveloped by the steam.

Like that, he was gone.

i recon i stick my cock in one of those fat compartments in her face

I invited one of my coworkers, Cecilia, out for drinks after work today. She's very nice to me around the office, and I needed to tell someone about the Thom situation.

"You think he's stalking you?" she asked, after I had told her the story.

"I know it sounds silly," I tried to explain, "but he just shows up, everywhere."

Cecilia did not seem convinced. "Okay, last night," I began, "I was buying beer at Aces, when Thom Yorke leapt out from behind the Doritos stand and started warning me that 'one by one, its going to fall, one by one'."

"What's that mean?" Cecilia asked, skeptically.

"How should I know?"

We sat in silence for a little while. Finally, I said quietly, "You must think I'm crazy."

It was getting late. We agreed to share a cab home to Brooklyn. We sat in silence for most of the ride. I felt like such an idiot.

As we were crossing the Williamsburg Bridge, our driver offered us a small, open box of candy up through the opening. Then his voice rose up from the front seat. "Would you like some juuuuuunior miiiiints?"

I was paralyzed with fear. He had found me.

"Sure, thank you," Cecilia replied, reaching for the box.

"No!" I quickly grabbed her hand. "Don't you see, that's Thom Yorke!"

Thom Yorke's face appeared in the opening. He was wearing pork pie hat and day glow sunglasses. He began whispering. "To the ground, to dust, ground out, like duuuust!"

Cecelia sat in quiet disbelief. Eventually she spoke up. "What's he going to do with us?"

I shrugged. All I knew is that we were Thom Yorke's prisoners now.

In the front seat, Thom began to sing a quiet, plaintive, and somewhat familiar melody. "Kniiives out, caaaatch the mouse, squaaaash his head, puuuut him in a box..."

Cecelia strained to understand the words. "What is he singing?" she asked. "I don't understand. What's he saying?"

After I explained, I could see the fear begin to take Cecelia. A desparate look gripped her face.

"Don't do anything silly, Cecilia," I whispered, but I could tell she was not herself.

"Look, Thom just let me go!" she pleaded. "I love your music!"

"Stop Cecilia!" I tried to intervene. "You'll only make things worse."

"Please," Cecilia begged. "I own all your records, even Pablo Honey."

Thom became instantly enraged. "Squaaaaash! Choooooke!" He swung the cab violently through traffic.

"You're making him angry!" I shouted. I gripped Cecelia's arm, but she was frantic.

"Please don't hurt me, Thom!" she begged. "I liked Kid A, really I did. And I don't own any records by Coldplay! Or Travis! You have to believe me, Thom!"

Upon hearing the names of those other bands, Thom began to scratch at his skin. He shook his fists violently against the steering wheel. Junior Mints spilled out onto the dashboard.

We were driving through Brooklyn now, its brownstones whizzing by us. Cecilia was crying, but I knew what I had to do.

"Thom, listen up Thom," I said calmly. "I'm sorry Thom. I'm sorry for avoiding you."

"Traaaped like piiigs, so aaaalone."

"I know, Thom," I explained. "I'm sorry for that. I've been under a lot of stress at work."

"Theeeey're out to get you."

"I know," I said. "I don't like my job either." The car slowed down, and stopped at the curb.

I opened the door. I could see his profile in the streetlight. I felt pity. "Look Thom," I said. "Stop by anytime you want, okay?"

"Reeest your sleeeepy head."

"Sure, Thom, even on work nights."

"From a greeeeeat height?"

"No, don't use the fire escape," I replied. "I'll leave an extra key under the mat."

I found Cecilia on the curb. She was shaken but the color was returning to her face. "You speak...Thom Yorke," she said, with admiration.

"I didn't know I had it in me," I shrugged.

Then I remembered I had forgot to pay Thom for the ride. "How much do I owe you, Thom?" I said turning back towards the cab.

Thom didn't answer. The tires of the cab squealed.

When the dust settled, he was gone.

At 11/3/09 09:14 PM, MilkGobbler wrote: Weeaboo

im not a weaboo im just a fan of jappanime and apense games like final fantasy, nfl 09, street fighter, cod 4, halo 2 and ect

much like all of you i presume im a big fan of jpanese culture such as anime, games manga pocky and football, but most people i know think its just stupid.
personally im pretty much japanese since i watch a lot of anime, how do you guys deal with the preassure from others?

personally my un-cut pecker is too big for the foreskin, basically out grew it, so its like a guy in a shirt too small, so really its the same as a cut one

if you're so atheist then summon the lord of darkness himself and smite them

between penut butter and jam?

You can't penut butter your dick in someones ass.