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Come on everone, lets get into the guiness book of records. Write completely random stuff here, and try to get the thread longer than 600 replies (the world record) WOOHOO LETS GO. In fact i got an i dea, lets have a word game. I write a word, and u reply with the first word which comes into your head.
1st Word:----------------> Playstation 2
1st Word:----------------> Playstation 2
Page:
You're slipping WLT!
We'll have none of that, I know you're upset but that's no reason to go skulking off to the darkest depths of FOG prime now is it?
Come to the top with me and have a nice chat with those who used to talk to that MIST friend of yours, you remember him?
Yes I know, sad isn't it.
Still, his memory lives through us now!
We'll have none of that, I know you're upset but that's no reason to go skulking off to the darkest depths of FOG prime now is it?
Come to the top with me and have a nice chat with those who used to talk to that MIST friend of yours, you remember him?
Yes I know, sad isn't it.
Still, his memory lives through us now!
Reaper[oV] wrote:
> Hm. Does that remind anyone else of a continuation of Roald Dahl's
> "The Landlady"?
We had to write these at school..
Sigh. Indeed, another one..
> Hm. Does that remind anyone else of a continuation of Roald Dahl's
> "The Landlady"?
We had to write these at school..
Sigh. Indeed, another one..
OOOOOOO!!!! Just had the best idea for a topic!
Mantis wrote:
> Over a hundred days old, ahh feels good.]
Happy belated birthday and Evenin'
> Over a hundred days old, ahh feels good.]
Happy belated birthday and Evenin'
jacktheginger wrote:
> You'll never took at your local Landlady the same way again!!
> "Billy seemed quite disturbed at her ways and was trying
> to reflect on the day. He suddenly started gasping for air, as if he
> was choking on a hundred morsels of stale bread. The Landlady was
> just sitting and watching at her leisure.
“Whats happening?! Why
> aren’t you doing anything?! Help me!........Help!”
In the blink of
> an eye he had drooped back onto the chair, like an imprint of a
> leaf on soft mud, his eyes had dilated and his lungs stopped moving.
> he was dead.
“Its ok Mr Wilkins, every things going to be
> all.right. Christopher and Gregory cant wait to meet you!”
The old
> landlady slid over to young Billy Weaver and wiped his
> expressionless face clean with a tissue that she produced from
> underneath her apron. She tilted his head back and returned to her
> favourite chair to plot the rest of the evenings work. After a brief
> few minutes she picked up the silver plated tray and hovered back
> into the kitchen.
After she had done the evenings washing up she
> proceeded back into the living room. She stood and watched proudly
> at Billy’s limp corpse for a second or two as if it was her own
> child. The Landlady then went to the burro and took out a dry
> natural sponge, a pair of scissors, a strange looking container with
> a skull and cross bones on it, a roll of peach coloured cotton and a
> rusty scalpel.
In great excitement the aging woman dived down and
> started to examine the body. When the examination had taken place
> she cut off a lock of Billy’s hair and put it in a locket that she
> had resting on top of the cutlery cabinet, she then put it in the
> trophy cabinet next to two other lockets. Each of which had exactly
> the same design on it. They all had an exquisitely detailed cross on
> them with the words ‘died for king and country’. As she closed the
> stained glass cabinet windows a tear dropped from her left
> eye.
“Thats enough work for one evening. Come on boys. Time for
> bed.” The Landlady said hastily
She creeped over Billy Weavers
> body and climbed the stairs, leaving it in the middle of the living
> room.
“come on boys its way past your bed time!” She repeated
> while looking down the stairs.
“We’re coming mum!”
> THE END
> jack Bevan
I wish they made games with
> plots like this.............Oh wait they do!!
banana?
> You'll never took at your local Landlady the same way again!!
> "Billy seemed quite disturbed at her ways and was trying
> to reflect on the day. He suddenly started gasping for air, as if he
> was choking on a hundred morsels of stale bread. The Landlady was
> just sitting and watching at her leisure.
“Whats happening?! Why
> aren’t you doing anything?! Help me!........Help!”
In the blink of
> an eye he had drooped back onto the chair, like an imprint of a
> leaf on soft mud, his eyes had dilated and his lungs stopped moving.
> he was dead.
“Its ok Mr Wilkins, every things going to be
> all.right. Christopher and Gregory cant wait to meet you!”
The old
> landlady slid over to young Billy Weaver and wiped his
> expressionless face clean with a tissue that she produced from
> underneath her apron. She tilted his head back and returned to her
> favourite chair to plot the rest of the evenings work. After a brief
> few minutes she picked up the silver plated tray and hovered back
> into the kitchen.
After she had done the evenings washing up she
> proceeded back into the living room. She stood and watched proudly
> at Billy’s limp corpse for a second or two as if it was her own
> child. The Landlady then went to the burro and took out a dry
> natural sponge, a pair of scissors, a strange looking container with
> a skull and cross bones on it, a roll of peach coloured cotton and a
> rusty scalpel.
In great excitement the aging woman dived down and
> started to examine the body. When the examination had taken place
> she cut off a lock of Billy’s hair and put it in a locket that she
> had resting on top of the cutlery cabinet, she then put it in the
> trophy cabinet next to two other lockets. Each of which had exactly
> the same design on it. They all had an exquisitely detailed cross on
> them with the words ‘died for king and country’. As she closed the
> stained glass cabinet windows a tear dropped from her left
> eye.
“Thats enough work for one evening. Come on boys. Time for
> bed.” The Landlady said hastily
She creeped over Billy Weavers
> body and climbed the stairs, leaving it in the middle of the living
> room.
“come on boys its way past your bed time!” She repeated
> while looking down the stairs.
“We’re coming mum!”
> THE END
> jack Bevan
I wish they made games with
> plots like this.............Oh wait they do!!
banana?
Over a hundred days old, ahh feels good.
i'm off to
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