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http://www.livememe.com/r0bhuw1

http://i973.photobucket.com/albums/ae219/heartbreak121/madkeyborder.gif

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Copy and paste process is when you copy something and paste it on something

I've got Crota cp if u want to join my gt zomb1e man 125

[quote]guardians[/quote] w0t you call me m8?

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JnpyCEUESEw

[b] [/b]

http://pittsburghrestaurantweek.com/

Join the SPC today!

pcpartpicker.com/user/bootoyou/saved/262z My computer set up

[i] [/i]

https://www.facebook.com/kirkizzle/posts/10206118212777117

-Jarl of Markarth

1832749664703388

289183

What the -blam!- did you just -blam!-ing say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the -blam!- out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my -blam!-ing words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, -blam!-er. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re -blam!-ing dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your -blam!-ing tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re -blam!-ing dead, kiddo. I don’t give a -blam!- who you are or where you live. You can count on me to be there to bring your -blam!-ing life to a hellish end. I’ll put you in so much -blam!-ing pain that it’ll make Jesus being nailed to a cross in the desert look like a -blam!-ing back massage on a tropical island. I don’t give a -blam!- how many reps you have or how tough you are IRL, how well you can fight, or how many -blam!-ing guns you own to protect yourself. I’ll -blam!-ing show up at your house when you aren’t home. I’ll turn all the lights on in your house, leave all the water running, open your fridge door and not close it, and turn your gas stove burners on and let them waste gas. You’re going to start stressing the -blam!- out, your blood pressure will triple, and you’ll have a -blam!-ing heart attack. You’ll go to the hospital for a heart operation, and the last thing you’ll see when you’re being put under in the operating room is me hovering above you, dressed like a doctor. When you wake up after being operated on, wondering what ticking time bomb is in your chest waiting to go off. You’ll recover fully from your heart surgery. And when you walk out the front door of the hospital to go home I’ll run you over with my -blam!-ing car out of no where and kill you. I just want you to know how easily I could -blam!-ing destroy your pathetic excuse of a life, but how I’d rather go to a great -blam!-ng length to make sure your last remaining days are spent in a living, breathing -blam!-ing hell. It’s too late to save yourself, but don’t bother committing suicide either… I’ll -blam!-ing resuscitate you and kill you again myself you bitch-faced phaggot. Welcome to hell, population: you.

Ladies and gentlemen, I feel that this award was not made to me as a man, but to my work - a life's work in the agony and sweat of the human spirit, not for glory and least of all for profit, but to create out of the materials of the human spirit something which did not exist before. So this award is only mine in trust. It will not be difficult to find a dedication for the money part of it commensurate with the purpose and significance of its origin. But I would like to do the same with the acclaim too, by using this moment as a pinnacle from which I might be listened to by the young men and women already dedicated to the same anguish and travail, among whom is already that one who will some day stand here where I am standing. Our tragedy today is a general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we can even bear it. There are no longer problems of the spirit. There is only the question: When will I be blown up? Because of this, the young man or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat. He must learn them again. He must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid; and, teaching himself that, forget it forever, leaving no room in his workshop for anything but the old verities and truths of the heart, the old universal truths lacking which any story is ephemeral and doomed - love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice. Until he does so, he labors under a curse. He writes not of love but of lust, of defeats in which nobody loses anything of value, of victories without hope and, worst of all, without pity or compassion. His griefs grieve on no universal bones, leaving no scars. He writes not of the heart but of the glands. Until he relearns these things, he will write as though he stood among and watched the end of man. I decline to accept the end of man. It is easy enough to say that man is immortal simply because he will endure: that when the last dingdong of doom has clanged and faded from the last worthless rock hanging tidelessin the last red and dying evening, that even then there will still be one more sound: that of his puny inexhaustible voice, still talking. I refuse to accept this. I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet's, the writer's, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.

[quote]So im walking through the halls, im late for class so im rushing through everyone and for some reason people prefer to stand still in the middle of the damn hall. So I turn the corner, and some idiots aren't looking where they are going and pop up out of nowhere. So I bump into them and they drop their cups of, what I THINK was coffee it could have been hot chocolate I dunno... Anyway, so I go "oh shit sorry I didn't see you there" and the asshat just looks at me like fire is about to explode from his head and at this point I knew shit was gonna go down. So he looks at me and yells "prepare for trouble" and at this point everyone is staring and his girlfriend joins in the argument and they start yelling about protecting the world from devastation and uniting all people within our nation, denouncing the evils of truth and love and extending their reach to the stars above. So at this point im backing up cause I don't even know what the -blam!- is going on, but I couldn't run. So they blast off at the speed of light into a full sprint and I can't surrender at this point so I prepare to fight. So Im dodging attacks as fast as lightning bolts when a teacher comes out and tells the two randoms to stop. So they run away yelling something and I was explaining what happened and shit. Anyway, they were trying to hide their identities but the principal found them because they were running away while yelling "team rocket's blasting off again!" Or whatever...so pretty crazy day...certainly interesting.[/quote]

cretin ˈkrɛtɪn/ noun 1. informaloffensive a stupid person (used as a general term of abuse). 2. MEDICINEdated a person who is physically deformed and has learning difficulties because of congenital thyroid deficiency.

Go back to the crucible you half-baked, KDR obsessed Ape! ( THATS how you do an insult...F@G) <I COPIED THIS. I'M NOT INSULTING ANYONE ON THIS FORUM!>

Caboose: Okay Tucker, I'm gonna tell you this only because you respect my opinions so much. Tucker: I actually don't listen to anything you say. Ever. Grif: Classic lazy one. Caboose: If you keep being mean to Church, Church will just keep being mean to you, and then everyone will be mean to everyone all the time and everything will be bad and no one will have fun. Tucker: Is this- are you trying to give a motivational speech right now? Donut: Shh! I want to see where he's going! Caboose: I mean come on! Is this really what you want? You just-you just want to be angry and mean all the time? Because that is dumb! And you know what? You are dumb for thinking that! Grif: Did Caboose just call someone dumb? Sarge: Well that's calling the kettle blue. Caboose: So Church left! And maybe some of us were sad! But you know what, that is okay! Because he was just trying to do something good! And he just made a mistake! And we all make mistakes sometimes. Tucker: Wow! Caboose I- Caboose: So shut up and get over it! ...Well, my work is done here.