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upyerbum
Posting Freak
Posts: 3226
Registered: 10-14-2005
Location: Dartmouth, Nova Scotia
Member Is Offline
Mood: Condemned 84
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Hey BadVibes, take everyone of your posts from this thread and turn it into a song. I just read through it, it works. It'd be funny.
Well, its this place where nobody works, and the pigs don\'t give you any shit. Everyone smokes weed and gets drunk all day. Its a place where
cunts like me and you can truly take it easy and relax. Know what I mean?
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BDx13
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this is fucking great. update!
If I fail math, there goes my chance at a good job and a happy life full of hard work.
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gavin
Posting Freak
Posts: 3973
Registered: 1-15-2005
Member Is Offline
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no sightings of the enemy
not one
he is playing mind games
he wants me to frop my guard
this will not happen
i am a pacient boy
i wait
i wait
i wait
i wait
his fake white flag will burn with the hatred of 1000 suns
i show no mercy
i am a war machine
i am trained to dispose of all enemy
i know no fear
i know nothing but extermination
i didnt start this war
but i must end it
the glue traps have been set
i have nothing but time my friend mr mouse
nothing but time
you come at the king....you best not miss
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Six66Mike
Posting Freak
Posts: 3090
Registered: 11-20-2003
Location: Queensland Australia
Member Is Offline
Mood: Dead Hearts
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First night we moved into our house a fucking mouse ran out to get my dinner, musta been hungry.
Set some food on the floor & got a garbage bin ready, sat waiting for 45 minutes and evetually caught the bitch. Took him out in a box down to the
park at the end of the road.
Since then have caught 20 more, could be the same ones, dunno. The hole is blocked now with steel so hopefully they don't come back, haven't seen one
in a month or so.
Got re-usable mouse traps that don't kill, just traps them in when they smell the peanut butter and the lid closes shut.
A lot of people ask me what kind of music I like. I love "soul music". My "soul music" isn’t a style, genre or niche. It’s music that is genuine. It’s
a painful lyric, a dirty bassline, it’s a harrowing vocal, it’s feedback, it’s an anthem, it’s a love song, it’s anarchy. I’ve got my personal
favourites but in the end it doesn’t matter who or where it comes from... so long as it’s good and it's real.
- Paul Morris, music director at 97.7 HTZ-FM
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defstarsteve
Posting Freak
Posts: 3505
Registered: 11-19-2003
Member Is Offline
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I got this from my boy in VA beach today
It was dark in the kitchen when I heard the potatoes fall to the floor. I paused, thinking a mouse had made its way to the table. and flicked on the
light.
Nothing.
It was late, I was hungry, and I went for the loaf of bread, noting the ruffled fur followed surprisingly by the white face staring at me. "Shit!"
I flew back from the kitchen grasping for some blunt object. I found the 50-pound plumber's hammer, a bit big for close quarters combat in the
kitchen, but it would have to do. My adversary, a medium-sized possum, was poised atop my microwave, mouth open and breathing heavy.
"Shit!"
I didn't know what to do. The possum didn't either. We sat there staring at each other, a standoff. I yelled to the kids in the bedroom, "shut the
door!!!" The last thing I needed was for the scared rodent to run into them at nearly eleven at night. I'd never get any sleep. But now, eye to eye
with this guy, I had no idea how to get him out. I ran back to my room, grabbed a samurai short sword, and made my way stealthily back to the kitchen.
Opening the front and back doors, I poked him, trying to get him to run out one of them. He dropped to the floor and retreated behind the fridge. I
pulled the contents of the table into the office, trying to get line of sight of the trespasser. There was no good way to access the new hiding spot
behind the fridge in my very cramped kitchen.
I slammed the fridge against the wall hoping to get him out. It didn't work. It was time for the final option. I dropped the plumber's hammer behind
the fridge, hitting my target clean. Crawling around to the other side, I saw the face of the near dead vermin still silently hissing. I put the sword
through and ended the struggle.
My neighbors had been alerted and were standing on the porch with my kids when I emerged, drenched in dirt and sweat and filth, clutching the dead
possum with BBQ tongs. They screamed as I took him to the street, letting his body lie on the median as a warning to others of his kind. This house
don't take kindly to rodents....marsupials...whatever...
We went to bed. The kids finally drifted to sleep and I lay there trying to fall off with the fan blowing, AC cooling, and a strange scratching of
plastic wrap noise right below my ear. I turned on the light and looked below my bed and saw another white face staring at me from behind the dresser.
"Shit! Kids! Get out of the room. There's one in here now." They ran like crazed monkeys into the living room. This one retreated as well, but to
where I could not determine. It was near midnight. I wasn't going to get any sleep.
With the kids help, we began emptying the bedroom, giving no secret places for the second possum to hide. I flipped the mattress and box spring from
the bed frame and could see no sign of the intruder. After almost an hour of searching, nothing, no sign of any fluffed fur. He had gotten away, but
to where?
We started reassembling our bed and our lives, when I glanced down behind the dresser and saw the curly pink tail followed by a fuzzy tuft of
something. There he was.
Pulling away the contents atop the dresser I had a straight shot down at him. Once again I grabbed the plumber's hammer for the fugitive's final
freefall. It struck him square and he appeared dead. I grabbed the sword to get him out when he began running and jumping and twitching out of
control. The blow had not been fatal and now I had a very angry possum behind my dresser. The overhand downward strike ended the melee. I tonged him
from out behind his hiding place and dropped him in the trash. This one was a bit bigger than the first and the kids screamed "ewwww...." in unison.
We spent the remainder of the night tearing the house apart and putting it somewhat back together. It took us a bit to get to sleep, my daughter
nervous about a possible family in the house, which I also believed, but hid amazingly from the children. They drifted away and I lay there, flinching
at every noise, waiting for the little scratch-scratch-scratching of plastic wrap that might start the hunt all over again.
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gavin
Posting Freak
Posts: 3973
Registered: 1-15-2005
Member Is Offline
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rain falls
i hear him
creeping in hiding
he knows
i know
we wait
i strain to catch a glimce
nothing
just the sound
sounds of taunting
sounds of knowing his advantage
he underestimates me
i was born to this
it was not by choice
he pulled me in
i can not turn back now
i have to answer the call
i walked away from so long ago
the last time it was a rat
he is not around to tell the story
lets just say he was split in half and leave it at that
the plans i have for you mr mouse
i hear ya knockin
im commin in pal
you come at the king....you best not miss
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