I'm jealous. *turns green*Originally Posted by My name is...something..?
Apollo dude, get into the groove. Yeah... this is fun... pick a number, any number... What signifigance (it's late and I can't spell) do lucky numbers have anyway? What do they do?
Tôi đói.
My favourite/lucky number is 7.
5, give or take about 3.
[center] I Painted My Own Mona Lisa
She's Fixed Everything
Now I'm Spoilt Beyond My Wildest Dreams [center]
21
I like cowboys. In fact, after the ciddies my new signature will involve cowboys! YEE-HAA!
...
47 and 17, neither of those have been said.
And if you say, my GOD you´ll be sorry!
5
I cannot believe this never got closed.
My new lucky number is one billion.
Favourite number - 7 or 10, because the greatest football players alive wear those numbers.
Lucky number - 3
Lucky number? None that I know of. Favorite number? I can't find the infinite sign but that would be it.
Cowboys are lame. Except for the few with tall tales to their names and those that team with the Justice League who are cool by association.
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.
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