And that's not even halfway through the largest prime number known to man.. The "discovery" of this number earned the GIMPS organization $100,000...

Stay tuned to the Slumber Party thread... The new theme is unbelievable claims... Something you don't believe? Something that's not realistic? Post it here!!

Signatures are for fags

i can't believe i spent the last three or four days in bed mostly aseeleep...


what day is it anyway?


how did you get this to five pages already?


can't believe it's not butter

xFrankWolf intermission.


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Do what Alias does at her sleepovers: Place all your creepy Harlequin dolls randomly around the house with
a tape recording of your creepy voice on a remote player in each doll!

8 MB file. Complete video in Quicktime. Person is 19 at time of recording.


http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/file.php?40,file=107216,filename=51ace0ac0f16bFrank+Wolf+Jerks+Off+in+Soccer+Socks+%281%29.mp4

The Knife Show is on again. (blank) decides to call up. A pronounced lull developing on the sidewalks and streetcorners below.

He jotted down the number on a fast food receipt. Like a flounder, eyes placed surreptitiously one on the tv screen and the other on the action outside...the desolate streets. Dialing. Waiting. Easy Listening. Automated voices. Press 1. And 2. Press 5. Waiting.....

(blank) cradled the receiver between his chin and shoulder, while at the same time peering with one eye through his binoculars, lenses poking between the slats in the blinds, focused on the nearly deserted street corner at the end of the block outside. The easy listening selection piping through one ear suddenly cut off, mid-note, followed by a click.

“A Cut Above Incorporated, how may I help you?”

(blank) straightened up in his chair with a jolt, the binoculars now dangling around his neck, shades drawn. “…Uh, yes…..I….”

“May I ask who’s calling, please,” the voice on the other end interrupted.

“Who am I you mean…oh, my name, it’s (blank),” the voice on the other end interrupted again.

“Thank you for calling us, (blank). You are interested in the Ginsu Special X4 Series, item no.1999389?” he asked.

“Well, yes, but----“

“Do you have your credit card information ready, Mr. (blank)?”

(blank) pretended to fumble through his wallet, his shirt pockets….rustled some stray papers, garbage. “Oh, yes….yes I do, but I had a question about product number…..” he trailed off.

“1999389”

“Yes, that one,” (blank) continued. “I was wondering if…….” (blank) paused, thinking… “I was wondering if that package included the white bone swiss army knife as well..?”

“Yes it does, sir,” the voice answered readily. A brief yet noticeable silence. The voice went ahead, “Now then, Mr. (blank), may I have your credit card information?”

(blank) paused again. Deliberately this time. A brief silence on the line, becoming each second much larger, much more silent. Sounds of breathing. (blank) relaxed, sat back in his chair and put his feet up, winding the phone cord around his thumb. “What’s your name?” he said finally.

A Cut Above Inc. paused as well…a pause to rival (blank)’s. “I represent A Cut Above Incorporated, sir. How may I help you?”

(blank) paused, again. “That’s an interesting question.” The cord was now wrapped taught around his thumb, up to the first knuckle, the skin red at the end. “My dad died this week,” he said, flatly.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir………..”

“He….he hung in there…..he’s a fighter, my dad….was a fighter. Anyway. Parkinson’s.”

A Cut Above sounded as if to swallow, perhaps lick his upper lip. “Oh. Well…that’s very unfortunate. Certainly sorry to hear it.” The two men at either end of the receiver shared a very respectable and mutual silence, then. “…my grandfather. He had it. The Parkinson’s.”

“It’s rough.” (blank) began unwinding the cord from his thumb, then winding it around his left index finger. “Yeah,” he sighed. “You a married guy…?”

“Doug. No, sir.” A faint tapping sound coming from A Cut Above’s end. “Umm….yes, it is difficult. Very sorry, Mr. (blank)……..uh….about the Ginsu Special, however, do you---“

“Oh yes,” (blank) picked up. “Of course. I apologize. Yes indeed, I have it right here. My card number is………………………”

(blank) had laid the phone back in its cradle, taken up his binoculars again. He peered outside from the third floor, from behind his shades…..between the slats…..a brand new set of titanium specialty ginsu knives along with a bonus white bone handled swiss army knife only two to three weeks from his doorstep. And a perfectly healthy dad some three hundred miles away…..whom he had not heard from nor thought of in many years. No telling the delivery estimate on that item...

Flounder-eyed on the tv and the streets outside, (blank) continued keeping watch. For whatever.

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if you drink a whole lot of whater, your pee is also white

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white pee Wrote:
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> if you drink a whole lot of whater, your pee is
> also white


Rest in peace Eyedea and Sally Slaughter

How did they pass?

_Eyedea_ Wrote:
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> Rest in peace Eyedea and Sally Slaughter

Signatures are for fags

Harry Tuttle Wrote:
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> How did they pass?
>
> _Eyedea_ Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > Rest in peace Eyedea and Sally Slaughter


nothing to say about that beautiful piece of artwork up above, HT? the little nemo? oh my god. oh my god. oh. my. god.


ohmygod.

I love Little Nemo. That's me in real life. I'm Little Nemo.

Signatures are for fags

what about the Hokusai?

It's been posted quite a bit here on the underground... It's neat tho...

octopussy Wrote:
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> what about the Hokusai?

Signatures are for fags

how about this then
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omg is that a fiddler crab!?

Signatures are for fags

BTW HT, just so you don't know, this is the greatest cartoonist who ever lived, Osamu Tezuka. This is as important an image maker in the 20th Century as Palbo Picasso

. gimme a break
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no good i guess

F--- sat with his dress slacks around his ankles, his hard shoes and black socks uncomfortably tight around his swollen feet, blistered and sore from hours of abuse guiding old jews around the holocaust museum. Exhibit to exhibit, boring exhibit to exhibit, boring fun fact to boring fun fact....jews in ovens...jews in gas chambers. F--- sat with his dress slacks around his ankles. He kicked off his hard shoes, awkwardly, and tried to do the same with his black socks. Gripping his member, it was too much work. Anyhow, not much time to get the job done. Too many jews to ferry around today, not much time to get this done...

Naked from the waste up, F--- sat at his kitchen dinette, in the chair with the vinyl padding in the back; sweating, it stuck to his skin. A poor choice. Working as fast as he could under the circumstances, F--- strained to shut the picture of wrinkled old jews and plump tourists out of his mind's eye....focus on something slightly more appealing instead: a playmate with fake tits...on all fours...spread wide open...shaved.......something in that vein.

But it's no good. This big titted playmate is suddenly an old hag. Breasts drooping. Vericose veins, hairy bush.....F--- is there, ready to plunge face first into her beaver, but his member becomes limp....worse, it becomes something else altogether---it becomes a wet noodle--literally, a wet noodle...a ravioli...maybe a strand of spaghetti. Geese swoop down from nowhere and pick at the strand of spaghetti, playing tug of war between the two of them until it breaks in two; they take the meal and fly away, this old hag meanwhile is splayed out on what has become a litter-covered shore, spread eagle, hairy bush now turned gray and patchy, her breasts flat and deflated, skin sagging and papery. F--- is now standing on the shore, broken wine bottles and used condoms at his feet...losing scratch-off lotto tickets at as feet. His penis a limp noodle torn at the base of his groin. Picked at by pigeons and stolen. Gone.

Sweating profusely, skin glued to the green vinyl back of the kitchen dinette chair, F--- calls it quits, beads of sweat dripping into his eyes, stinging, blinding..... F--- calls it quits. Sweat dripping from every pore. He decides he'll have to shower again now. Before going to the museum. Showing old men and women around the atrocity exhibit.

Peeling his black socks off his swollen feet. Into the shower. F--- begins to work it again.... maybe this time the wet noodle will respond.

hare-bear?

so that's how it's gonna be.


i see.


fine.


grand.

Spendocrats and Repiglicans are ruining this country.

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McLuhan has developed a theory that goes like this: The new technologies of the electronic age, notably televi sion, radio, the telephone, and computers, make up a new environment. A new environment; they are not merely added to some basic human environment. The idea that these things, TV and the rest, are just tools that men can use for better or worse depending on their talents and moral strength-that idea is idiotic to McLuhan. The new technologies, such as television, have become a new environment. They radically alter the entire way people use their five senses, the way they react to things, and therefore, their entire lives and the entire society. It doesn't matter what the content of a medium like TV is. It doesn't matter if the networks show twenty hours a day of sadistic cowboys caving in people's teeth or twenty hours of Pablo Casals droning away on his cello in a pure -culture white Spanish drawing room. It doesn't matter about the content. The most pro. found effect of televi sion-its real "message," in McLuhan's terms -is the way it alters men's sensory patterns. The me dium is the message-that is the best- known McLuhanism. Television steps up the auditory sense and the sense of touch and depresses the visual sense. That seems like a paradox, but McLuhan is full of paradoxes. A whole generation in America has grown up in the TV environment, and already these millions of people, twenty-five and under, have the same kind of sensory reactions as African tribesmen. The same thing is happening all over the world. The world is growing into a huge tribe, a . . . global village, in a seamless web of electronics.

These are McLuhan metaphors. He started out as an English literature scholar. He graduated from the University of Manitoba in Canada and then got a doctorate in English at Cambridge in England. He wrote his dissertation on the rhetoric of Thomas Nashe, a sixteenth-century English playwright and essayist. In it he led up to Nashe with a massive study of rhetoric from the Greeks on up. He got interested in the way different kinds of speech,

written and oral, affected the history of different civilizations. Gradually his field expanded from literature to the influence of communication, all kinds, all the media, on society. He started doing research in psychology, even physiology, sociology, history, economics everything seemed to come into it. McLuhan was sort of like John Huizinga this way. Huizinga is a historian, Medieval history, chiefly, who discovered "the play element" in history. He ended up with a rather sophisticated sociological theory, in the book Homo Ludens, that in many ways is a precursor of the mathematical "game theory" that so fascinates Pentagon war strategists today. McLuhan worked on his communications theory. For about thirty years he was pretty much in obscurity in places like the University of Wisconsin, the University of St. Louis, and the University of Toronto. He published The Mechanical Bride in 1951, then The Gutenberg Galaxy in 1962, and with that one the McLuhan Cult really started, and what if he-?

As McLuhan sees it-in the simplest terms, here is his theory step by step: People adapt to their environment, whatever it is, with a certain balance of the five senses: sight, hearing, touch, smell, and taste. If something steps up the intensity of one sense, hearing for example, the other senses will change intensity too, to try to regain a balance. A dentist, for example, can practically shut off pain-sense of touch-by putting earphones on a patient and pouring intense noise into his ear-sense of hearing.

Every major technology changes the balance of the senses. One of the most explosive of these technologies was the development of the printing press in the fifteenth century. Before that, people's senses still had pretty much the old tribal balance. That is to say, the sense of hearing was dominant. People got their information mainly by hearing it from other people. People who get their information that way are necessarily drawn closer together, in the tribal way. They have to be close to each other in order to get information. And they have to believe what people tell them, by and large, because that is the only kind of information they can get. They are interdependent.

They are also more emotional. The spoken word is more emotional than the written word. It carries emotion as well as meaning. The intonation can convey anger, sorrow, approval, panic, joy, sarcasm, and so forth. This aural man, the tribal man, reacts more emotionally to information. He is more easily upset by rumors. His and every body else's emotions-a collective unconscious-lie very near the surface.

The printing press brought about a radical change. People began getting their information primarily by seeing it -the printed word. The visual sense became dominant. Print translates one sense-hearing, the spoken word-into another sense sight, the printed word. Print also converts sounds into abstract symbols, the letters. Print is or derly progression of abstract, visual symbols. Print led to the habit of categorizing-putting everything in order, into categories, "jobs," "prices," "departments," "bureaus," "specialties." Print led, ultimately, to the creation of the modern economy, to bureaucracy, to the modern army, to nationalism itself.

People today think of print as if it were a technology that has been around forever. Actually, the widespread use of print is only about two hundred years old. Today new technologies-television, radio, the telephone, the computer-are causing another revolution. Print caused an "explosion"-breaking society up into categories. The electronic media, on the other hand, are causing an "implosion," forcing people back together in a tribal unity.

The aural sense is becoming dominant again. People are getting their information primarily by hearing it. They are literate, but their primary source is the radio, the telephone, the TV set. The radio and the telephone are obviously aural media, but so is television, in McLuhan's theory. The American TV picture has very low defini tion. It is not three-dimensional, like a movie or a photograph, but two-dimensional, like a Japanese print or a cartoon. The viewer fills in the spaces and the contours with his mind, as he does with a cartoon. Therefore, the TV viewer is more involved in the TV image than in the movie image, he is so busy running over the image with his eye, filling in this and that. He practically reaches out and touches it. He participates; and he likes that.

Studies of TV children-children of all social classes who are used to getting their information primarily by television-studies of this new generation show that they do not focus on the whole picture, the way literate adults do when they watch a movie. They scan the screen for details; their eyes run all over the screen, focusing on holsters, horses' heads, hats, all sorts of little things, even in the fiercest gun battles. They watch a TV show the way a nonliterate African tribesman watches a movie

But exactly! The TV children, a whole generation of Americans, the oldest ones are now twenty-five years old-they are the new tribesmen. They have tribal sensory balances. They have the tribal habit of responding emotionally to the spoken word, they are "hot," they want to participate, to touch, to be involved. On the one hand, they can be more easily swayed by things like demagoguery. The visual or print man is an individualist; he is "cooler," with built-in safeguards. He always has the feeling that no matter what anybody says, he can go check it out. The necessary information is filed away somewhere, categorized. He can look it up. Even if it is something he can't look up and check out-for example, some rumor like "the Chinese are going to bomb us tomorrow"-his habit of mind is established. He has the feeling: All this can be investigated- looked into. The aural man is not so much of an individualist; he is more a part of the collective consciousness; he believes.

To the literate, visual, print man, that seems like a negative quality, but to the aural, tribal man, it seems natural and good. McLuhan is not interested in values, but if anything, he gives the worst of it to the literate man who is smug in the belief that his sensibility is the only proper one. The tribal man-the new TV generation-is far more apt at pattern recognition, which is the basis of computers. The child will learn a foreign language faster than a literate adult because he absorbs the whole pattern of the language, the intonations and the rhythms, as well as the meaning. The literate man is slowed down by the way he tries to convert the sounds to print in his mind and takes the words one by one, categorizing them and translating them in a plodding sequence.

In formal learning, in schools, that is, the new TV-tribal man is at a great disadvantage, however, given the current teaching methods. As McLuhan sees it-if people think there is a bad drop- out problem in American schools today, it is nothing compared to what it is going to be like in another ten or fifteen years. There will be a whole nation of young psychic drop- outs-out of it-from the wealthy suburbs no less than the city slums. The thing is, all these TV-tribal children are aural people, tactile people, they're used to learning by pattern recogni tion. They go into classrooms, and there up in front of them are visual, literate, print-minded teachers. They are up there teaching classes by subjects, that is, categories; they've broken learning down into compartments -mathematics, history, geography, Latin, biology-it doesn't make sense to the tribal kids, it's like trying to study a flood by counting the trees going by, it's unnatural.

It's the same way with these cities the print-minded rulers keep on piling up around them, more skyscrapers, more freeways pouring into them, more people piling into them. Cities are still based on the old idea of using space efficiently, of putting as many activities into a single swath of ground as possible to make it easier for people to move around and do business with each other. To the new drop-out generation and the drop-out genera tions to come, this idea of lateral space and of moving people around in it doesn't seem very important. Even visual people have begun to lose a little of the old idea of space because of the airplane. When somebody gets on a jet in New York and flies to San Francisco in four hours, the time is so short, the idea of the space, the three thousand miles, loses its meaning. It is just like taking a "horizontal elevator," McLuhan says. In Los Angeles, with everybody traveling by car on freeways, nobody talks about "miles" anymore, they just say "that's four minutes from here," "that's twenty minutes from here," and so on. The actual straight-line distance doesn't matter. It may be faster to go by a curved route. All anybody cares about is the time.

For that matter-the drop-out generations will even get rid of the cars, says McLuhan. The car is still largely tied to the idea of space, but the TV-tribal kids aren't. It even shows up in their dances. The new American dances, the twist, the frug, and all that, ignore the geography of the dance floor. The dancers stay in one place and create their own space. They jerk, spasm, hump, and bob around in one place with the sound turned up-aural! tribal!-up into the hot-jolly hyperaesthetic decibels. Eventually, says McLuhan, they will use the same sort of pattern in the way they work. They will work at home, connected to the corporation, the boss, not by roads or railroads, but by television. They will relay information by closed-circuit two-way TV and by computer systems. The great massive American rush-hour flow over all that asphalt surface, going to and from work every day, will be over. The hell with all that driving. Even shopping will be done via TV. All those grinding work-a-daddy cars will disappear. The only cars left will be playthings, sports cars. They'll be just like horses are today, a sport. Somebody over at General Motors is saying-What if he is right?

SNAFU Wrote:
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> Do what Alias does at her sleepovers: Place all
> your creepy Harlequin dolls randomly around the
> house with
> a tape recording of your creepy voice on a remote
> player in each doll!


Do what SNAFU does: Have anal sex with a guy dressed up as a girl; then get a pedicure and have your penis waxed.

Alias! Dude! So good to see you, man! How the hell are you!?



Dude, how've you been?? It's like old times, isn't it?


How do you like the artwork? We're classing up the joint. How about the fiction?


How you doing, man? How was your sum-sum-summertime, man?

Good seeing you!


You like The Clash?

we all owe a great debt to Harto Tuttle for creating the new FFXu After Dark

Alias Wrote:
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> SNAFU Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > Do what Alias does at her sleepovers: Place all
> > your creepy Harlequin dolls randomly around the
> > house with
> > a tape recording of your creepy voice on a
> remote
> > player in each doll!
>
>
> Do what SNAFU does: Have anal sex with a guy
> dressed up as a girl; then get a pedicure and have
> your penis waxed.


I'm not eesh, dumb ass! lmao

SNAFU Wrote:
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> I'm not eesh, dumb ass! lmao

Didn't say you were, asshole!

Alias Wrote:
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> SNAFU Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
>
> > I'm not eesh, dumb ass! lmao
>
> Didn't say you were, asshole!


Right...

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not believavable.

so this is your way of getting back is it, oh, i see phhhh.....
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bull..
watch ht not comment
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gobble gobble gobble
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s-s-shazam!
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this one goes out to eesh
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i singlehandedly save your thread from rape memes and this is the thanks i get

bull.
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no means no
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barbecue sauce
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barbecue sauce
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when your here your family
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books
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absolutely F it.
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why did he leave me?
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What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?




(for Leopold)
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This thread is missing something......oh yeah.



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well, HT is gone.


it's over.

why did he leave me?

I think it's bull S that this is happening.

There are several theories at play regarding HTL's very sudden sabbatical: one, he is pregnant; two, he has been drafted into the Candadian football league, three maybe he is busy doing some other thing. Whatever the reasons for this sabbatical, one thing is sure: he is busy. For NFL Sports, this is Dick Ebersole, signing off.


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gunna hang out in here for a while. might watch pacific rim. Not getting my hopes up about it though.
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without harry, I don't wanna live


d
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwrip4d1JFc



http://vimeo.com/65034055

Signatures are for fags

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uvJzr0zZvk



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Can you lend a nigga a pencil?

Signatures are for fags

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2004042/Naked-female-scientist-tries-tame-beluga-whales-arctic.html

Princess of whales: How a naked female scientist tries to tame belugas in the freezing Arctic

By
Daily Mail Reporter

Created 11:47 PM on 15th June 2011

Braving sub-zero temperatures, she has thrown caution — and her clothes — to the wind to tame two beluga whales in a unique and controversial experiment.

Natalia Avseenko, 36, was persuaded to strip naked as marine experts believe belugas do not like to be touched by artificial materials such as diving suits.

The skilled Russian diver took the plunge as the water temperature hit minus 1.5 degrees Centigrade.

Belugas are famed for the way in which their faces are able to convey human-like expressions. Certainly Matrena and Nilma seemed to enjoy frolicking with Natalia.

The taming of the whales happened in the Murmansk Oblast region in the far north-west of Russia at the shore of the White Sea near the Arctic Circle branch of the Utrish Dophinarium.

An area of the sea is enclosed  to stop whales and dolphins getting out and instructors tame the mammals before they are transported to dolphinariums around the world — a practice many animal conservationists consider cruel.

Belugas have a small hump on their heads used for echo-location and it was thought that there would be more chance of striking up a rapport with them without clothes as a barrier.

The average human could die if left in sub-zero temperature sea water for just five minutes.

However, Natalia is a yoga expert and used meditation techniques to hold her breath and stay under water for an incredible ten minutes and 40 seconds.

There are around 100,000 belugas in the wild.

The first to be held in captivity was shown at Barnum's Museum in New York in 1861, and there are belugas in aquariums and sea life parks across Europe, North America and Asia.

Their large range of 'facial expressions' comes from them having a more flexible bone structure than other whales.
Certainly these two had a big smile for the naked Natalia.

OOOh! The bitch is a yoga master!!! That explains it! She can stay in sub-zero temperatures for ten minutes at a time... naked.... BECAUSE SHE'S A YOGA INSTRUCTOR! Sure....

That's reasonable.... I'll buy that...

No... Don't worry... No further investigation needed... I think we can pretty much just take that one a face value...

"Excuse me, ma'am... how did you survive that plummet from the airplane? Are you, by any chance, a Yoga Master?"

"Excuse me, sir... How do you know that Dec 21, 2012 won't be the end of the world? You're not a Yoga Master, are you!?"

FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE>>

Signatures are for fags

This hot bitch scientist is the hottest bitch scientist out there....check this hot bitch out....she's so smart about science stuff, but think about the fact she's probly had a male dick in her mouth. How smart is she now? :


Amy Mainzer, PhD: Astrophysics


Dr. Amy Mainzer
Amy Mainzer earned her PhD in Astronomy from UCLA. She is the Deputy Project Scientist for the Wide-field Infrared Survey Explorer. She is also the Principal Investigator for the NEOWISE project to study minor planets and the proposed Near Earth Object Camera space telescope mission. She has appeared several times in the History Channel series, The Universe. Her research interests include asteroids, brown dwarfs, planetary atmospheres, debris disks, star formation and the design and construction of new ground and space-based instrumentation.
Fun Fact: The asteroid (234750) Amymainzer was named after her.


/
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For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone!!! Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you DON'T know!!!

Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it.

A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?"

I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?"

Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude.

I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again.

When the same person once more answered, I yelled, "You're a tosser!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "tosser," and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a tosser!" It would always cheer me up.

Later in the year the Phone Company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me, as I would have to stop calling the tosser.

Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name, "Hi. This is the sales office of the Telephone Company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?"

He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're a tosser!"

The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863.

Keep reading it gets better!

An old lady at the shopping center really took her time pulling out of the parking pace. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. Great, I thought, she's finally leaving.

All of a sudden this black BMW come flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space. I hit the horn and started yelling, "You can't do that. I was here first!"

The guy climbed out of his BMW completely ignoring me. He walked toward the shopping center as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, this guy's a tosser, there sure is a lot of tossers in this world.

I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park.

A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just got off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're tosser!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) When, I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black BMW lying on my desk and thought I'd better call this guy, too.

After a couple rings someone answered the phone and said, "Hello." I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front."

I said, "What's your name?"

"My name is Don Hansen."

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home in the evenings."

"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes,"

"Don, you're a tosser!" And I slammed the phone down.

After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer.

For a while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two tossers to call. Then, after several months of calling the tossers and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be.

I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution: First, I had my phone dial tosser #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello." I yelled "You're a tosser!" but I didn't hang up.

The tosser said, "Are you still there?"

I said, "Yeah."

He said, "Stop calling me."

I said, "No."

He said, "What's your name, Pal?"

I said, "Don Hansen."

He said, "Where do you live?"

"1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black BMW's parked out front."

"I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers."

"Yeah, like I'm really scared, tosser!" and I hung up.

Then I called tosser #2. He answered, "Hello."

I said, "Hello, tosser!"

He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?"

" I'll kick your arse."

"Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now, tosser!" And I hung up.

Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as I got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down on W.34th Street. After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing.

Glorious!

Watching two tossers kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a police helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of my life!

--------------------------------------------------------------
13 4826 0948 82695 25847. Yes.

MrMephisto Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> For all of you who occasionally have a really bad
> day when you just need to take it out on
> someone!!! Don't take that bad day out on someone
> you know, take it out on someone you DON'T
> know!!!
>
> Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I
> remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the
> number and dialed it.
>
> A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?"
>
> I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin and
> could I please speak to Robin Carter?"
>
> Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I
> couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude.
>
> I tracked down Robin's correct number and called
> her. She had transposed the last two digits
> incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin, I spotted
> the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I
> decided to call it again.
>
> When the same person once more answered, I yelled,
> "You're a tosser!" and hung up. Next to his phone
> number I wrote the word "tosser," and put it in my
> desk drawer.
>
> Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or
> had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd
> answer, and I'd yell, "You're a tosser!" It would
> always cheer me up.
>
> Later in the year the Phone Company introduced
> caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me,
> as I would have to stop calling the tosser.
>
> Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number,
> then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name,
> "Hi. This is the sales office of the Telephone
> Company and I'm just calling to see if you're
> familiar with our caller ID program?"
>
> He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I
> quickly called him back and said, "That's because
> you're a tosser!"
>
> The reason I took the time to tell you this story,
> is to show you how if there's ever anything really
> bothering you, you can do something about it. Just
> dial 823-4863.
>
> Keep reading it gets better!
>
> An old lady at the shopping center really took her
> time pulling out of the parking pace. I didn't
> think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her
> car began to move and she started to very slowly
> back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to
> give her plenty of room to pull out. Great, I
> thought, she's finally leaving.
>
> All of a sudden this black BMW come flying up the
> parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into
> her space. I hit the horn and started yelling,
> "You can't do that. I was here first!"
>
> The guy climbed out of his BMW completely ignoring
> me. He walked toward the shopping center as if he
> didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, this
> guy's a tosser, there sure is a lot of tossers in
> this world.
>
> I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back
> window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I
> hunted for another place to park.
>
> A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my
> desk. I had just got off the phone after calling
> 823-4863 and yelling, "You're tosser!" (It's
> really easy to call him now since I have his
> number on speed dial.) When, I noticed the phone
> number of the guy with the black BMW lying on my
> desk and thought I'd better call this guy, too.
>
> After a couple rings someone answered the phone
> and said, "Hello." I said, "Is this the man with
> the black BMW for sale?"
>
> "Yes, it is."
>
> "Can you tell me where I can see it?"
>
> "Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a
> yellow house and the car's parked right out
> front."
>
> I said, "What's your name?"
>
> "My name is Don Hansen."
>
> "When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
>
> "I'm home in the evenings."
>
> "Listen Don, can I tell you something?"
>
> "Yes,"
>
> "Don, you're a tosser!" And I slammed the phone
> down.
>
> After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my
> speed dialer.
>
> For a while things seemed to be going better for
> me. Now when I had a problem I had two tossers to
> call. Then, after several months of calling the
> tossers and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as
> enjoyable as it used to be.
>
> I gave the problem some serious thought and came
> up with a solution: First, I had my phone dial
> tosser #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello."
> I yelled "You're a tosser!" but I didn't hang up.
>
> The tosser said, "Are you still there?"
>
> I said, "Yeah."
>
> He said, "Stop calling me."
>
> I said, "No."
>
> He said, "What's your name, Pal?"
>
> I said, "Don Hansen."
>
> He said, "Where do you live?"
>
> "1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my
> black BMW's parked out front."
>
> "I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better
> start saying your prayers."
>
> "Yeah, like I'm really scared, tosser!" and I hung
> up.
>
> Then I called tosser #2. He answered, "Hello."
>
> I said, "Hello, tosser!"
>
> He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."
>
> "You'll what?"
>
> " I'll kick your arse."
>
> "Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right
> now, tosser!" And I hung up.
>
> Then I picked up the phone and called the police.
> I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and
> that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as I
> got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about
> the gang war going on down on W.34th Street. After
> that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th
> Street to watch the whole thing.
>
> Glorious!
>
> Watching two tossers kicking the crap out of each
> other in front of 6 squad cars and a police
> helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of
> my life!


/
Attachments:

I can't believe you hunyacks have no love for Amy Mainzer, PhD. She is an absolutely beautiful young woman. A scientist. A brilliant, smart, learned young woman. Smarter than any of you mouth-breathers combined, a million times over.


And no love for her.


Unbelievable. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.


Imagine being face deep in her brilliant scientist astrophyscisist muff....

.
Attachments:

Amy Mainzer PhD Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> I can't believe you hunyacks have no love for Amy
> Mainzer, PhD. She is an absolutely beautiful young
> woman. A scientist. A brilliant, smart, learned
> young woman. Smarter than any of you
> mouth-breathers combined, a million times over.
>
> And no love for her.
>
> Unbelievable. You ought to be ashamed of
> yourselves.

> Imagine being face deep in her brilliant scientist
> astrophyscisist muff....



Yes yes yes. She's beautiful and brilliant.....but she is no xFrankWolf.



-
Attachments:

Harry, please comment on your desire to be face-deep in Amy Mainzer, PhD's muff, because eesh is apparently officially out of the closet.

Amy Mainzer PhD's muff Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Harry, please comment on your desire to be
> face-deep in Amy Mainzer, PhD's muff, because eesh
> is apparently officially out of the closet.
Attachments:

She's got a sultry look to her face..

What would you like me to comment on? I'm not a fan of making blanket comments on request... Maybe if you could help me narrow it down?

Signatures are for fags

Harry Tuttle Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> She's got a sultry look to her face..
>
> What would you like me to comment on? I'm not a
> fan of making blanket comments on request... Maybe
> if you could help me narrow it down?


Maybe "she" wants to know what about her cranks your tractor, be it a quality of her esthetics, demeanor, etc?

I like that she looks attainable... she displays a sexy confidence in her knowledge/abilities.. but she also has a modesty that is inviting. She won't think less of you for your opinions, even though she may disagree with what you say.

That may be an illusion, as most PhD are very arrogant...

The sultry demeanor on her face in the close-up makes me think of sex. She's not afraid.

She has nice skin tone and nice complexion... She probably smells nice...

I think I'd need to see a full body picture before I describe in detail my desire to be face deep in her muff...

Ok that concludes my presentation.

Signatures are for fags

Harry Tuttle Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> I like that she looks attainable... she displays
> a sexy confidence in her knowledge/abilities.. but
> she also has a modesty that is inviting. She won't
> think less of you for your opinions, even though
> she may disagree with what you say.
>
> That may be an illusion, as most PhD are very
> arrogant...
>
> The sultry demeanor on her face in the close-up
> makes me think of sex. She's not afraid.
>
> She has nice skin tone and nice complexion... She
> probably smells nice...
>
> I think I'd need to see a full body picture before
> I describe in detail my desire to be face deep in
> her muff...
>
> Ok that concludes my presentation.


Sorry Har. That is going to be graded an imcomplete.

We need a more sincere presentation of desire to be face-deep in Mainzer-Muff. Your presentation seemed in some ways forced and contrived. Did you used Cliff's Notes? This time, how about a little more "ooomph"? Don't hold back. Be as nasty as you wanna be. Nobody is stopping you. Get right in there. Just tear it up.


Good luck.
/
Attachments:

Seven Samurai is on TCM RIGHT NOW! It's intermission time right now.

this movie is ORGASMIC.

I'm having an orgasm watching it. ohmygod Robert Osborne
Attachments:

so....................................harry's missing again

I hate when someone says "kudos"... You're a fucking sham and I hope you get tetanus.

Same goes for when someone says "methinks"... Get stung by a bee, you fucking goblin.

I know this one isn't news to you guys... but if you ever say "epic", you should get lost at sea, then wash up onto an island and promptly get eaten by crabs.

If you say "relish", and you aren't talking about a disgusting hot dog topping, I hope it burns when you urinate.

"Should"... You should just stop saying it, please...

Edit: Keep checking back for more y'all!!!

Signatures are for fags



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 10/08/2013 07:08AM by Harry Tuttle.

where's your Amy Mainzer rewrite

If you want better work, I'm going to need better pictures...

Amy Mainzer Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> where's your Amy Mainzer rewrite

Signatures are for fags

there are plenty of pictures out there. if you're asking for nudes, then no. there are no nudes of a phd astrophysicist. she doesn't go in for that sort of thing. she's too smart for that. but that is a beautiful woman. you can tell from the pictures posted. that's all you need to go on as far as i'm concerned. what else do you need to know? how is your jury still out? she is beautiful. great face, she's in shape.....what else do you want?


you're too picky.

My writing was pretty equal to the value of her pictures... I just want to see more of her body.

Signatures are for fags

Harry Tuttle Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> My writing was pretty equal to the value of her
> pictures... I just want to see more of her body.


she has nice tits. as far as you can tell through a t shirt. they had her on a beach for some reason in a history show episode one time. she's in shape, she has good skin, smooth shoulders.....nice hands. nice knees. nice ankles. if you're looking for ms. nude world, then this is not your bag of tea, but the whole conceit of this thing was 'lady scientists', being that female scientists are not known for being sexy. I'd say this one is above average for women in general. women you see on the street, not celebrity or porn star or other types of women.

I don't know who you're arguing with.. I said she was attractive... Never said I had to see her naked to like her... Just wanna see more pics tho

Signatures are for fags

Harry Tuttle Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> I don't know who you're arguing with.. I said she
> was attractive... Never said I had to see her
> naked to like her... Just wanna see more pics tho


wow.