Random Thoughts v6.0

I DONT

THATS NOT EVEN

"Two- Ter."

At least, that's how I've always heard it pronounced.

t yew toar

I imagined that in a little British girl's voice, I hope you know that.

I imagine you have a supernumerary nipple, I hope you know that.

I nary be a witch, laddie.

Och, wee taters and guinness up in ye tinny arse, aye

taters taters taters

Actually, I was going for a Scottish thing....


So, you just made fun of Toumey. Prepare to..... Well, die in some sort of horrible, rust fashion.

Top Hat Zebra wrote:Toumey

Who is "Toumey"?

Anyway, me and, ahem, Tuomey are, like, practically almost nearly best friends. Just go have a look at all the deep conversations we have. If we were full 100% best friends we would ride a tandem bicycle together and share a ChapStick™.

Everyone knows he can't afford a bicycle.

Or chapstick.

But he CAN afford rusty soupcans. And you know what he does with them? Besides using them for bowls/cups/toilets?



Stabs people with them, that what.

Pfft, for obvious if we were full 100% best friends I would buy a tandem bike and ChapStick™ for both of us to share.

That is what full 100% best friends do.

Mooch off of each other?

Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffshhhhhhhhhhhh; share.

Have you never had a full 100% best friend before?

Yeah. I don't go buy them chapstick and bicycles though.


Well, not unless we have some sort of benefits thing going on. And even then only if we're going to do kinky stuff with it.




Are you and 2Me going to do kinky stuff on a bicycle with chapstick?

Yes, the tandem bicycle is melted down and used as lubricant and the ChapStick™ is a fire retardant. I think you can fill in the gaps.

This thread just got epic...

Also, now imagining this being said by GLaDOS, or by whatever spews out the top-of-page quotes:

Semicolon wrote:I imagine you have a supernumerary nipple, I hope you know that.

[]

It is hidden.

You breathe softly.

Underneath the armpit covered in a thin layer of the softest down. Pure white, like that of snow on an Irish morn in the highlands. The skin is peachy; a slight reddish hue peeks from underneath. Soft to the touch. Youthful, exuberant; practically exuding an aura of beauty and harmony. Your fingers glide lightly over the area; tentative. Recoil; shy to your touch; dare you press onwards? The beast will surely be worth the hunt. But endless search decrees naught, for the beast reveals itself to only the worthy and only then when it wants to be revealed.

The sun rises to the east and the clouds part on the horizon. A single sunbeam shines through the window and lands on the flesh. A brighter light has never been seen. Dazzling; the room glitters as the light is refracted from a hundred-hundred facets. You cover your eyes; are you worthy enough to look upon it? You shield your eyes from the glare and return to your search; hands moving eagerly. Trumpets sound and you are sure that the heavens themselves have brought forth holy cherubs to salute the arrival of so great a being. A sound more beautiful has never been heard. Joy fills your heart and all the stress of your life melts away. The light feathers part to your touch, now, and you are sure your quarry is near.

You hold your breath.

Underneath is a small brown protuberance. Lumpy, misshapen; undeserving of the hearsay. A small teat; a yellow milk leaks from the end. It is quite ugly, in hindsight, and you should not have been searching for the third nipple.

You head north.

You are eaten by a grue.

The ominous aura in the dark places of the Treehouse makes you aware of his lurking presence. Its favorite diet is the leftover scraps of meat from previous meals, and its hunger for whiskey and tin cans goes unsatisfied. But its insatiable appetite is tempered by its fear of light. No Hobo has ever been seen by the light of day, and few adventurer's items have survived its sticky fingers to tell the tale. But one man and his newly purchased bicycle will prove that love FRIENDSHIP comes in all forms.

Semicolon in "100 percent bestest friend with the scary hobo that lives in the treehouse." starring GlaDOS as someone's third nipple.

EDIT: oh for fuck's sake

EDITEDIT: seriously

RT: So wait, is Semicolon now officially the gayest member of the forum?

No, that's still you. []

But he wants to kiss all the boys. I only want to kiss Neil Patrick Harris and John Barrowman.

He would be if that message wasn't fake and written by a flying pink cat monster/bunny with a cloak

I thought Semi was a chick until a few days ago. Yes really.

I AM OKAY WITH THIS