Guest TheZsaszHorsemen Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 MR. MILLER HAS NO BALLS! FOR A GOOD TIME CALL STACY: 945-6634 THE GAY KID IS QUEER!
Guest TheZsaszHorsemen Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Absurdity is the new flaming. ^ YOU WANNA GO?
Guest Choken One Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Shane eats Pussy! I LOVE MY HUGE WANG!
Guest Danny Dubya v 2.0 Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 *unzips pants* WI-U DISSED OU TI-E WALL? *zips pants*
Guest TheZsaszHorsemen Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 EVERYONE AT TSM IS GAY AND SO IS HIS FAT MOMMA! Oh shit! It's the Dean of Students!
Guest The Winter Of My Discontent Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Zsasz, you're turning into me. I've yet to decide whether this is a good or bad thing.
Guest The Winter Of My Discontent Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Thats a nice red X, congrats.
Steviekick Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 At least that's how they did grafitti in my high school
devo Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 "You think you're so funny, pissing on the floor. Why don't you do something creative, like shit on the ceiling?" I didn't make that up, but it deserves a mention regardless.
justsoyouknow Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 "Those who write on bathroom walls, Roll their shit in little balls. Those who read these words of wit, Eat those tiny balls of shit."
justsoyouknow Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 (edited) :::scribbles out "TSM"::: :::Writes "Johnson" above::: :::scribbles out "Ray"::: :::Writes "Cock" next to it::: Edited October 1, 2003 by justsoyouknow
Guest Agent of Oblivion Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 :crudely draws a swastika:
godthedog Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... And one fine morning — So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. And Sid shit his pants.
Giuseppe Zangara Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Do you remember my sister? How many mistakes did she make with those never blinking eyes? I couldn't work it out. I swear she could read your mind, your life, the depths of your soul at one glance. Maybe she was stripping herself away, saying: Here I am, this is me I am yours and everything about me, everything you see... If only you look hard enough. I never could. Our life was a pillow-fight. We'd stand there on the quilt, our hands clenched ready. Her with her milky teeth, so late for her age, and a Stanley knife in her hand. She sliced the tyres on my bike and I couldn't forgive her. She went blind at the age of five. We'd stand at the bedroom window and she'd get me to tell her what I saw. I'd describe the houses opposite, the little patch of grass next to the path, the gate with its rotten hinges forever wedged open that Dad was always going to fix. She'd stand there quiet for a moment. I thought she was trying to develop the images in her own head. Then she'd say: I can see little twinkly stars, like Christmas tree lights in faraway windows. Rings of brightly coloured rocks floating around orange and mustard planets. I can see huge tiger striped fishes chasing tiny blue and yellow dashes, all tails and fins and bubbles. I'd look at the grey house opposite, and close the curtains. She burned down the house when she was ten. I was away camping with the scouts. The fireman said she'd been smoking in bed - the old story, I thought. The cat and our mum died in the flames, so Dad took us to stay with our Aunt in the country. He went back to London to find us a new house. We never saw him again. On her thirteenth birthday she fell down the well in our aunt's garden and broke her head. She'd been drinking heavily. On her recovery her sight returned, a fluke of nature everyone said. That's when she said she'd never blink again. I would tell her when she started at me, with her eyes wide and watery, that they reminded me of the well she fell into. She liked this, it made her laugh. She moved in with a gym teacher when she was fifteen, all muscles he was. He lost his job when it all came out, and couldn't get another one. Not in that kind of small town. Everybody knew everyone else's business. My sister would hold her head high, though. She said she was in love. They were together for five years until one day he lost his temper. He hit her over the back of the neck with his bullworker. She lost the use of the right side of her body. He got three years and was out in fifteen months. We saw him a while later, he was coaching a non-league football team in a Cornwall seaside town. I don't think he recognised her. My sister had put on a lot of weight from being in a chair all the time. She'd get me to stick pins and stub out cigarettes in her right hand. She'd laugh like mad because it didn't hurt. Her left hand was pretty good though. We'd have arm wrestling matches, I'd have to use both arms and she'd still beat me. We buried her when she was 32. Me and my aunt, the vicar, and the man who dug the hole. She said she didn't want to be cremated and wanted a cheap coffin so the worms could get to her quickly. She said she liked the idea of it, though I thought it was because of what happened to the cat and our mum.
OldSchoolWrestling Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 "Raiders rule!! Others drool!!!"
godthedog Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sear the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
Guest The Old Me Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Mr Weinberg is a fucking child molester!!!
Dr. Tom Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 "Lavatory" Maybe someone needs to pay more attention in high school.
DerangedHermit Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Writes high up on the wall: "Read up here! Now you're peeing all over the place!"
Lando Griffin Posted October 1, 2003 Report Posted October 1, 2003 Inside a stall- On the door: Look to your left. On the left: Look to your right. On the right: Look behind you. On the back wall: SIT STILL AND SHIT ALREADY! Can't forget the classic: Here I sit Broken hearted Came to shit But only farted
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