It would be nice to see a pair of boobs today. Preferably ones that belonged to Tifa.
It would be nice to see a pair of boobs today. Preferably ones that belonged to Tifa.
Who want's to see my Boobs?
This post brought to you by the power of boobs. Dear lord them boobs. Amen
Congratulations, HC! I never thought you'd actually turn into a viera!
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Guys... Seriously, I'm not joking, look, I'm a viera
See look, I've got a vagina and everything. Also ears and a tail
*snip*
HC that is very nice for you and I will be printing this off for later, but you can't post porn on EoFF ~Paul
This post brought to you by the power of boobs. Dear lord them boobs. Amen
Bulltrout, HC. Prove it.
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Guys GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS
GUYS GUYS GUYS GUSY GUYS.
I made a wish upon a star and woke up a viera this morning. I'm serious.
I am totally freakin serious.
On topic: I have no idea what that is.
Off topic: I'm a freakin viera!
This post brought to you by the power of boobs. Dear lord them boobs. Amen
God, Steve, don't post things like that. I can't even tell if that's an octopus or your mother's face.
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I predict this thread is going to go downhill pretty fast after that mess.
When did anybody say anything about killing Proto? You've massively misinterpreted some lighthearted flaming. I admit that HC needs to watch his mouth before he gets himself banned.
I actually thought the point was fairly clear.Originally Posted by Shorty
What are our expectations as to the fate of this thread?
Jack: How do you know?
Will: It's more of a feeling really.
Jack: Well, that's not scientific. Feeling isn't knowing. Feeling is believing. If you believe it, you can't know because there's no knowing what you believe. Then again, no one should believe what they know either. Once you know anything that anything becomes unbelievable if only by virtue of the fact you now... know it. You know?
Will: No.
If Demolition Man were remade today
Huxley: What's wrong? You broke contact.
Spartan: Contact? I didn't even touch you.
Huxley: Don't you want to make love?
Spartan: Is that what you call this? Why don't we just do it the old-fashioned way?
Huxley: NO!
Spartan: Whoa! Okay, calm down.
Huxley: Don't tell me to calm down!
Spartan: What's gotten into you? 'Cause it sure as hell wasn't me.
Huxley: Physical relations in the way of intercourse are no longer acceptable John Spartan.
Spartan: What? Why the hell not?
Huxley: It's the law, John. And for your information, the very idea that you suggested it makes me feel personally violated.
Spartan: Wait a minute... violated? Huxley what the hell are you accusing me of here?
Huxley: You need to leave, John.
Spartan: But Huxley.
Huxley: Get out!
Moments later Spartan is arrested for "violating" Huxley.
By the way, that's called satire. Get over it.
Why the hell would you want to kill Proto, man? That's not even funny. He's a saint, an ace saint, and you're just out to violence him. Not cool. We all enjoy better lives thanks to Agent Proto.
Whoa! Hey, hey! Just straight chill, you know? Slow your roll. You all really need to calm the hell down now. Don't make me pull my stapler. This is a warn warning.
Jack: How do you know?
Will: It's more of a feeling really.
Jack: Well, that's not scientific. Feeling isn't knowing. Feeling is believing. If you believe it, you can't know because there's no knowing what you believe. Then again, no one should believe what they know either. Once you know anything that anything becomes unbelievable if only by virtue of the fact you now... know it. You know?
Will: No.
If Demolition Man were remade today
Huxley: What's wrong? You broke contact.
Spartan: Contact? I didn't even touch you.
Huxley: Don't you want to make love?
Spartan: Is that what you call this? Why don't we just do it the old-fashioned way?
Huxley: NO!
Spartan: Whoa! Okay, calm down.
Huxley: Don't tell me to calm down!
Spartan: What's gotten into you? 'Cause it sure as hell wasn't me.
Huxley: Physical relations in the way of intercourse are no longer acceptable John Spartan.
Spartan: What? Why the hell not?
Huxley: It's the law, John. And for your information, the very idea that you suggested it makes me feel personally violated.
Spartan: Wait a minute... violated? Huxley what the hell are you accusing me of here?
Huxley: You need to leave, John.
Spartan: But Huxley.
Huxley: Get out!
Moments later Spartan is arrested for "violating" Huxley.
By the way, that's called satire. Get over it.
Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! You basket-hilt stale juggler, you! You starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O for breath to utter what is like thee! You tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile standing-tuck!
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And that's just his mother Tig's talking about. Just wait until you see what he says about Proto himself.