Babies tend to cry. Alot. Really loud.
Babies tend to cry. Alot. Really loud.
Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho'(though) the soldiers knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Crying is often a defence mechanism in case of harm or attack, to warn others. In the modern age, crying is now often used to signify anger or annoyance.
Skunks squirt smelly spray out of their ass as a defense mechanism.
Originally Posted by Fynn
Skunks crump when the jam is up-pumped, but they spunk punks who all up in they junk with pheromous gunk leaving them stinky, stanky, stunk.
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.
I was going to make a remark on the spelling of the word based off pheromone, but that isn't a word. Therefore I have no correction.
In any case, other forms of song are better than rap
Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho'(though) the soldiers knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
I cannot stand rap.
I, however, can sit rap
Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho'(though) the soldiers knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
I can sit and wrap gifts
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.
Many shopping centres offer gift-wrapping services.
Window shoppings sucks elephant balls.
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.
Your gifts would get squished by elephant balls
Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho'(though) the soldiers knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Elephant balls are known to be referred to as "Golden Balls", in slight reference to how valuable ivory tusks are.
Golden Balls is also the nickname of David Beckham.
"Golden slivers" is often mistaken by dyslexics for the Christmas song "Silver and Gold."
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.
Silver and Gold is a much worse Christmas song than Silver Bells
Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho'(though) the soldiers knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Silver is a terrible metal for constructing bells.
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
