i dreamt i saw you walking
up a hillside in the snow
casting shadows on the winter sky
as you stood there counting crows
one for sorrow, two for joy,
three for girls, and four for boys,
five for silver, six for gold, and
seven for a secret never to be told

there's a bird that nests inside you
sleeping underneath your skin
when you open up your wings to speak
i wish you'd let me in

from "a murder of one" ~ counting crows
i LOVE LAMP!

it's not like its the mighty morphin� power fisters!

written - RHPS
read - red hot chili peppers . . .

sex would never be the same

what? are the girls clicking for you? YOU HAVE NAVIGATIONAL NIPPLES!

i'm just glad i'm not wet like Michael Jackson then the sunburn would be worse.
Michael Jackson is wet?!
only when he thinks of you, baby!

i mean once you had a fist in up to here you don't notice a little thing like a gstring.

e pluribus unum . . .
WHAT? did you just say 'prenatal sex'?

inner pocket? is that like your inner demon.

doood! don't ever put your kumquat next to your dickweed!
why?
you'll end up with Blueberries in your muffin!
hey! you got that wrong - it's never put you pussywillow next to your dickweed you'll end up with kumquat.
well you can have kumquats next to your muffins.
well, yeah . . . ok.

d000d, i got the kumquat - we can't do anything for two weeks!

it's really hard to type when you're getting rubbered on.

i'm 1337!
i'm not - i'm just your average quarter ho.

i feel like i'm in some optical illusion . . . woooo . . . are the fingers really moving?

Chill out, Casper. You're trapped, I said.


0 traffic controllers

confessed on Friday, Oct. 13, 2006