Shinju

I invented sex.

:::Hugs Araneola::: My luck has recently changed. I feel like hugging everybody! :::Hugs everyone:::

Hmm, I'm kinda stumped. Is it one of the Scary Movie movies? Or perhaps it's Broken Lizard's Club Dread?

:::Takes the neon green vibrating dildo::: . . . I'll be right back. :::Pokes the person below her with a box of Magnum extra large condoms::: Have fun with that!

^ is a forum virgin just like I was until a little while ago.

^ probably likes tacos. < isn't really quite sure what's going on so cannot help ^ get back into the conversation. V will bring me tacos.

ex-boyfriend

Owww! Now I have a pine needle lodged in my eye! :::Chucks a wolverine:::

9439

Not guilty. G/NG: Gone over 120 mph on the freeway.

Then I would shock the world by eating all the Powerpuff girls. If I were a Powerpuff girl . . .

I invented music.

That would be it. Anyone got anymore quotes?

, stinky dump on her chest.

You should go do something really fun that you really enjoy. Or you could do what I do and go on a overnight trip with some friends to the nearest large city and go on a wild, drunken bender. Speak to lots of random weird people. I guarantee lots of strange things will happen that you can use for inspiration. Since you will be drunk, it might be better if you take a tape recorder, a video camera or a few disposable cameras. If you take an expensive piece of equipment, make sure you have a sober person who is willing to watch over it while you all get drunk. Or you could just take a notepad and paper, but once you reach a certain point you may no longer be able to write, although it will be fun to try to decipher everything in the morning. Remember to draw on lots of napkins and find lots of existential topics to talk about. Do lots of things you wouldn't normally do but try to stay out of physical harm. Good luck.

Every time I sneeze a baby pops out of my yoohoo. I have 11,000 kids.

I LOVE vivi too.

Knorg tried not to look as annoyed and tired as he felt. The kind Ginerva, seeing his distress, began to slam away at the antique brass service bell on the front desk. Knorg's head pounded. He placed his hand on her wrist to stop her. "If you could please, I have a headache . . . " Ginerva took her hand away from the bell. "But if you don't hit it hard, the lady won't come." Knorg began to pound on the bell himself. After about thirty second of this, a woman came out from the velvet curtain behind the desk. She looked miffed. "Excuse me sir, but that bell is an antique. It'll break if you keep banging away at it like that." She was a buxom young woman, with black eyes and black hair that shone eerily against her pale skin. Her voice was soft, but her accent was American. Well that would explain the lack of service. "I would like to be shown to my room." Her deadpan face, which looked at him with those expressionless obsidian eyes, gave him the impression that she thought him a slight irritation that needed to be dealt with. "If you could sign here please, sir." She unceremoniously pushed an open, dusty leather volume at him. Knorg stood there for a second, wondering why he wasn't writing anything yet. Oh, right . . . "May I have a pen?" The girl seemed to pull the pen out of nowhere and handed it to him with a flick of the wrist. A fountain pen, how quaint. He hastily jotted down his name and address. Did hotels usually ask for an address when signing? Come to think of it, he had never been to a hotel that had an actual guest book. He was far too exhausted to contemplate the strangeness of his surroundings or the queerness of his hostess. His eyes blurred as he finished filling in the rest of his information. "Right this way, I'll take you to you're room." She made her way out from behind the front desk. "I know I paid for this room online already, but do I need to leave a card down here as well?" She didn't even bother looking at him as she answered. "No, this isn't that kind of hotel." He didn't spend to long puzzling over her strange answer, although he would later. "But what if I want to watch a movie?" He thought he heard the hint of a faint chuckle, but he couldn't be sure. "We have no televisions here, sir." Knorg groaned inwardly as he followed her. She hadn't even offered to relieve him of his baggage. He hastily looked behind him, wondering what had become of the woman he had been talking to. She was standing there, reading a pamphlet. "It was nice meeting you, Miss . . . " "Ginerva," she supplied. "Perhaps we'll see each other again sometime." Knorg was walking, carrying his suitcase and talking at the same time and brain was so muddled he really couldn't think of a good reply. "Yes, perhaps." He continued to follow the black haired woman up what seemed to be an endless series of stairs. On and on they walked, his cramped calves hiking stair after stair. How many of those God damned things were there? Just when he thought he couldn't take another step, they reached a long, red carpeted corridor. "My name is Shinju," the woman said, unlocking the door to his room for him. Once again, the key seemed to come out of nowhere. "I work the night shift here at the McSweeny. Please ring the front desk if you need anything." "Does this room have a phone?" He could swear the corner of her mouth gave a twitch of a smile. "No, sir. There is a phone down in the main lobby." Ring the front desk. No phone. He got it. He jumped at the touch of her cold hand. "Your key, Mr. Knorg." He grasped his numb fingers around the cool metal of the old fashioned key. "Goodnight." She exited, closing the heavy wooden door behind her. "Bloody should have gone to Greece . . . "

Dumb and Dumber! What about this one: "Can you keep a secret? I'm trying to organize a prison break. I'm looking for, like, an accomplice. We have to first get out of this bar, then the hotel, then the city, and then the country. Are you in or you out? "

If my parents found out about my love for Mary Jane, I'd be homeless.

Great, now I'm craving tacos. Thanks a lot. :::Pokes person below with a sharp elbow to the dome:::

Time Changer (A Christian movie with horrible anti-freedom almost Naziesque undertones)

9435

Wakko Warner

Ecstasy