This is the greatest thread ever to exist

if this thread is so great why haven't my dishes been done?

 

lol. If this thread is so great why do I have a sty? I've been reading it for two days.

 

maybe if i rub my dirty dishes on your eye they will get clean and you will get better!

 

Me want more BOOBIES! :drool5:

 

Let's try it

 

OOHH, Blue Boobies :drool5:

 

Goodnight folks.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VI17_OGHyCk&feature=related"]YouTube- Here Comes Santa Claus- GENE AUTRY

 

Straight up Santa Clauses thread, dear the avid reapers tread.

If I weren't the same age as a Boogabah, I could be a real teenage boy and star in pants of my own, unhiding the zone where the bells ring clearer than acetone.

Meaning lost in nonsense got by force fed rhyme recover what you couldn't by the spearate self, togather cheer for drunken health, what's sound sounds out beyond the din, and none can fail to fit their skin.

Time lines for no head. No cutting the cord you royal bread of life provider, quick not fast, chew down the award, don't make it last, but first of what we must ingest, to get what's not best off our chest---(No, I don't mean boobies you newbies)

 

threads dead baby...threads dead

 

Dead to the dead, alive to the living,
stuff don't get stuffed just keeps giving
out for giving up and in are of themselves
not next of kin begotten --we are smit
not smoten.

 

Dead Kittens.

 

Never were. Resting, can't you hear their purr?

 

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

- Dylan Thomas

 

a corpse is a corpse
of course, of course!

and no one can talk to a corpse, of course!
that is of course, unless of course, it's the famous mr dead!

 

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
A woodchuck would chuck all the wood he could if a woodchuck could chuck wood!

 

the sixth sick sheiks sixth sheep's sick.

 

Can you imagine an imaginary menagerie manager
imagining managing an imaginary menagerie?

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jDVFaheqQAg"]YouTube- Cavalleria Rusticana - Intermezzo