Sloppy Joes are delicious. It's one of the few things that even my school cafeteria can't screw up.
Sloppy Joes are delicious. It's one of the few things that even my school cafeteria can't screw up.
I think I'm gonna be sick...
Tôi đói.
*drools* I seriously did not need to see that picture right now, Strider!!!!
Damn, might as well not fight it...*goes to make sloppy joe*
The itching sensation is a good thing.
Quite delicious.Originally Posted by Dan longfletch
As a side note, Proto's sig scares me.
Boy am I an unfunny ass.
How do you half-expect something?Originally Posted by Nod
A long time ago, some guy was hungry. He only a slice of bread, an ounce of beef, and some weird ingredients he didn't all that might trust. An old ingine feller came and taught him what he could do with those weird ingredients, and thus the Sloppy Bobby was born. The Sloppy Bobby was later decided to be a lame name for such a fine feast, so they changed it Sloppy Jacob and then to Sloppy John. Inetivably, it was decided that it would make more sense for some reason to call them Sloppy Joes and that's the history of the food that I'm about to eat. *turns* HEY! Where's the beef?
Also, it was later learned that that there ingine feller was actually from SOUTH of the border . . . and that because the two were drunk they ended making . . .
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 want one now
My work here is done.
its just one of those things you hear and dont know what it is or what it meansOriginally Posted by TisWas
Falafel is an Arabic food (eaten mainly in Israel, strangely enough, and is considered a national food). It's a pita-bread, filled with fried tehina-balls, plus salad, humous, and basically anything else you'd care to stuff in there, including potato chips and meat. I love it.What you should be asking is...what the hell is falafel?
When fighting monsters, be wary not to become one yourself... when gazing into the abyss, bear in mind that the abyss also gazes into you." - Friedrich Nietzsche
The rightful owner of this Ciddie can kiss my arse! :P
You don't want to know my first thought on that. Let's just say that it involves a running joke about drive-thru brothels...what the hell are sloppy joes?
Ha! Even I, a French, have eaten sloppy joes. *wins*
And then there is Death