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Topic Review (Newest First)
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| Jun 3rd, 2003 12:44 PM | ||
| kellychaos |
You forgot to add that I was talking about the wrong character altogether, genius inifinity. 
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 02:40 PM | ||
| sadie |
Quote:
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:50 PM | ||
| kellychaos |
Tweezers up my ass!  Hey! Wait a miiinnnute.  Don't try to be charming with me! I damn thee to the "Land of Tears"! Infidel.
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:46 PM | ||
| Matt Harty |
*Shrugs* Your the one that stuck tweezers up your ass. Anyways this prosthetic one has customizable size. DOAN BE JEALOUS. |
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:35 PM | ||
| kellychaos |
My set of tweezers has already taken care of that little problem. :bitchslap
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:23 PM | ||
| Matt Harty | I already broke mine off in your ass Kelly. :/ | |
| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:19 PM | ||
| kellychaos |
My God, you goths. Look at what you've done! :/ You've taken away the only midget lady clairvoyant with a weird voice that I'll ever love. Damn you! Damn you all!
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:12 PM | ||
| sadie |
 
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:11 PM | ||
| kellychaos |
Quote:
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:09 PM | ||
| Matt Harty | *self mutilation* | |
| Jun 2nd, 2003 12:03 PM | ||
| kellychaos |
Methinks my bug zapper has lit the way for the wrong insects. :/ For God's sakes, don't go to the light! 
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 11:57 AM | ||
| sadie | brb. i'm gonna turn the oven on. | |
| Jun 2nd, 2003 11:46 AM | ||
| FS |
Quote:
 Well, if you care about rhyme more than quality. |
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| Jun 2nd, 2003 10:41 AM | ||
| kellychaos |
A Parting Gift Dear "All Goth-Like Entities", I graciously offer to you "The Book Of Counted Sorrows" in exchange for your immediate departure. In accepting this gift, you agree to leave and be free to do with the poems whatever most gives you pleasure ... cutting, self-mutilation and other forms of torture are not only suggested but encouraged. Here's a taste: from Sole Survivor The sky is deep, the sky is dark, The light of stars is so damn stark. When I look up, I fill with fear. If all we have is what lies here, this lonely world, this troubled place, then cold dead stars and empty space... Well, I see no reason to persevere, no reason to laugh or shed a tear, no reason to sleep or ever to wake, no promises to keep, and none to make. And so at night I still raise my eyes to study the clear but mysterious skies-- that arch above us, as cold as stone. Are you there, God? Are we alone? If willing you'll receive THESE and other tasty treats of self-deprecation as well. Yours hatefully, Kellychaos |
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