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Showing results for tags 'other stuff'.
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...not sure what else to blog on, but I've only got a couple days left...need to think of something...
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In the dungeons is where I spent most of my days (continue the song and win +500)
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It's new episode is going to be on a few minutes, so I'll be gone until it's over. After that...get ready.
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IT'S LIKE 1 STEP FROM THIS. Or 2.
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Here I am, more or less a nobody (actually a NEWBody ), but it's anniversery week here at BZP, so I'm going to have my blog this time around...as soon as I can think of something to blog about. P.S. Hello, everyone still at BS01! I'm still around.
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Thoughts?
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Remember not to step on bees!
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… or, why one can never win. (Fortunately, this hypothetical scenario is something I have not seen anywhere online.) If Member #1 says that something cool happened and then proceeded to explain it, Member #2 could come back with "Pics or it didn't happen." Member #1 comes back with a picture, and Member #2 says "This looks shopped." THERE IS NO WAY TO WIN
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IT'S JULY ALREADY
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SMASH IT TO BITS
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Just paste creepy cat after it. Gimme any sentence and it'll work
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It's Jimmy Neutron time. B)
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CARNOTAURS!
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The mighty Turakii just predicted that something will happen to me on Thursday. If nothing happens, I'll ask for a rebate. Which will be hard. Since I didn't give her anything. Except a sig report. And she can't give me those. Because I'd just send them right back at her. And stuff. …
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Now that is music. If you have not heard of them, look them up.
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I am the strangest person I have ever met. Why? I love the smell of chlorine. Yes. Chlorine. I also love it whenever I walk into pool stores, which is about twice a week during poll season, due to this. I am claustrophilic, or "tight spaces loving". I like getting into small places, ones that would make a claustrophobic person cringe and scream, i.e. trunks of cars. So, BZPower, please. I am begging you. Please make me feel like having eccentricities is normal.
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We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes, But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes. One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese, Yet the plural of moose should never be meese. You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice, Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice. If the plural of man is always called men, Why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen? If I speak of my foot and show you my feet, And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet? If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth, Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth? Then "one" may be that, and "three" would be those, Yet hat in the plural would never be hose, And the plural of cat is cats, not cose. We speak of a brother and also of brethren, But though we say mother, we never say methren. Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him, But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim! Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England. We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, Grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends But not one amend. If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all But one of them, what do you call it? If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? We ship by truck but send cargo by ship. We have noses that run and feet that smell. We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway. And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out, and in which an alarm goes off by going on. And, in closing, if Father is Pop, how come Mother's not Mop?
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Boromir simply walks into you.
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IT'S MAY ALREADY
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Like a boss.
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At least I got chicken.
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aka it's … AHO'S MAJ RAID OF THE WEEK! *fanfare*
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It's always funny to me - whenever I see a trilogy of movies, the last one is my favorite, the first my second-favorite, and the second one my least-favorite. Why, I don't know.
