crom!

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Tropicana's "Trop 50" = Fail-o-rama.

Just awful - like they took OJ, mixed it with Tang made from Splenda, and said, "Hey, why not?"
 
There's lots of good submarine sandwiches, but the best is Italian cold cuts.

Salami, capicola, provolone, pepperoncini, etc.
 
crom! my royal consort and i were battling a group of stygian raiders this morning. needless to say, the fight was ours to win! i ran a man through with my trusty spear (no homo), but the spearhead became lodged in his belly, and i was having great difficulty freeing it. when i finally dislodged it, the filthy stygian's guts spilled out all over my royal boots. crom! i felt the rage of my ancestors in my veins, so i scooped up his innards and force fed them to the choking dying man! ha!

crom! then suddenly, the bodies of the stygians we had slain, began to twitch in a weird macabre dance. they rose from the dead, and we heard a foul necromancers cackling from on high. cursed necromancer! he disappeared in a cloud of smoke before he could taste my hard steal (homo). looking back, i should thank that necromancer, for i was able to kill those stygian dogs twice!

crom!
 
The Cimmerian said:
crom! my royal consort and i were battling a group of stygian raiders this morning. needless to say, the fight was ours to win! i ran a man through with my trusty spear (no homo), but the spearhead became lodged in his belly, and i was having great difficulty freeing it. when i finally dislodged it, the filthy stygian's guts spilled out all over my royal boots. crom! i felt the rage of my ancestors in my veins, so i scooped up his innards and force fed them to the choking dying man! ha!

crom! then suddenly, the bodies of the stygians we had slain, began to twitch in a weird macabre dance. they rose from the dead, and we heard a foul necromancers cackling from on high. cursed necromancer! he disappeared in a cloud of smoke before he could taste my hard steal (homo). looking back, i should thank that necromancer, for i was able to kill those stygian dogs twice!

crom!
Click to expand...

Post of teh thread right here ^^^
 
The Cimmerian said:
crom! my royal consort and i were battling a group of stygian raiders this morning. needless to say, the fight was ours to win! i ran a man through with my trusty spear (no homo), but the spearhead became lodged in his belly, and i was having great difficulty freeing it. when i finally dislodged it, the filthy stygian's guts spilled out all over my royal boots. crom! i felt the rage of my ancestors in my veins, so i scooped up his innards and force fed them to the choking dying man! ha!

crom! then suddenly, the bodies of the stygians we had slain, began to twitch in a weird macabre dance. they rose from the dead, and we heard a foul necromancers cackling from on high. cursed necromancer! he disappeared in a cloud of smoke before he could taste my hard steal (homo). looking back, i should thank that necromancer, for i was able to kill those stygian dogs twice!

crom!
Click to expand...



Awesome. :thumb:
 
You'd think that there'd be more cold/flu medications on the market that advertise FOR "medicine head" or various forms of getting high legitimately. Just a thought to spur sales in a recession.
 
Is this the thread where we post about Morc?

mork.jpg
 
The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
 
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