Dooey Jo wrote:It means that language has a racist, and John Wiley Price knows him.
Language is female you oppressive enforcer of patriarchal tyranny!
(Sorry couldn't resist.)
The Gentleman from Texas abstains. Discourteously.
PRFYNAFBTFC-Vice Admiral: MFS Masturbating Walrus :: Omine subtilite Odobenus rosmarus masturbari Soy un perdedor.
"WHO POOPED IN A NORMAL ROOM?!"-Commander William T. Riker
Hey! I thought of that one for a BF1942 mod! Only that the 3 vulcans where themselves mounted on a rotating chasis.... you know, for no actual practical purpose. "Vulcan of Vulcans" we called it.
So I stare wistfully at the Lightning for a couple of minutes. Two missiles, sharply raked razor-thin wings, a huge, pregnant belly full of fuel, and the two screamingly powerful engines that once rammed it from a cold start to a thousand miles per hour in under a minute. Life would be so much easier if our adverseries could be dealt with by supersonic death on wings - but alas, Human resources aren't so easily defeated.
There should be a period after sleep. The pause would make it seem o so much worse.
We will kill you in your sleep on Christmas.
We will kill you in your sleep. On Christmas.
Not entirely grammatically correct but the effect works nonetheless.
I am the hammer, I am the right hand of my Lord. The instrument of His will and the gauntlet about His fist. The tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His wrath just as he is my shield. I am the bane of His foes and the woe of the treacherous. I am the end.
-Ravus Ordo Militis
"Fear and ignorance claim the unwary and the incomplete. The wise man may flinch away from their embrace if he girds his soul with the armour of contempt."
Argosh wrote:I don't get it, what's so wrong about it.
Go back a page or two and find that one about having a dirty mind.
The Gentleman from Texas abstains. Discourteously.
PRFYNAFBTFC-Vice Admiral: MFS Masturbating Walrus :: Omine subtilite Odobenus rosmarus masturbari Soy un perdedor.
"WHO POOPED IN A NORMAL ROOM?!"-Commander William T. Riker
So I stare wistfully at the Lightning for a couple of minutes. Two missiles, sharply raked razor-thin wings, a huge, pregnant belly full of fuel, and the two screamingly powerful engines that once rammed it from a cold start to a thousand miles per hour in under a minute. Life would be so much easier if our adverseries could be dealt with by supersonic death on wings - but alas, Human resources aren't so easily defeated.
I swear that Move on pic was like an initiation when I was taking the First Response course. We had one decapitated dummy, that they made you do reps with....
and the thing fit into so many other "Gallows Humour" jokes we had as firefighters. (though not the kind from F451)
The scariest folk song lyrics are "My Boy Grew up to be just like me" from cats in the cradle by Harry Chapin