Dru

You can't see any domes looking NE from the freeway.

Maybe you mean Viennese. It sure isn't a dome though.

Is that a Mac she's got?

Send tryout pictures via PM

3 minutes and 4 seconds and it pops in your mouth ?

Maybe the Spray Forum should have its own cheerleaders. I know that when I'm struggling to come up with some snaffle-related drivel a squad of bootylicious girlz with Prana tops and pompoms shaking, chanting slogans to the music of a brass band, would really help.

Pop the corn with body heat, the way you germinate mung beans.

A jigger is someone who jigs.

luwayo is a millionaire, she can afford to buy new guidebooks

maybe if you didn't have fat feet you wouldn't have had to switch to the thong.

"Trees cause pollution." - Ronald McReagan

You CANNOT see Anderson peaks from Chilliwack. What drugs are you smoking. From the highschool near my house you can see the summits of Baker and Shuksan though

Are those wooden shoes made from hemp or from clearcut old growth forest?

Round shoeleaces fit through round grommets and eyelets better.

And, like Jacko, he's an accused pedophile.

To get the mostest pagetops

When awful darkness and silence reign Over the great Gromboolian plain, Through the long, long wintry nights;-- When the angry breakers roar As they beat on the rocky shore;-- When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore:-- Then, through the vast and gloomy dark, There moves what seems a fiery spark, A lonely spark with silvery rays Piercing the coal-black night,-- A Meteor strange and bright:-- Hither and thither the vision strays, A single lurid light. Slowly it wanders,--pauses,--creeeps,-- Anon it sparkles,--flashes and leaps; And ever as onward it gleaming goes A light on the Bong-tree stems it throws. And those who watch at that midnight hour From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower, Cry, as the wild light passes along,-- 'The Dong!--the Dong! 'The wandering Dong through the forest goes! 'The Dong! the Dong! 'The Dong with a luminous Nose!' Long years ago The Dong was happy and gay, Till he fell in love with a Jumbly Girl Who came to those shores one day, For the Jumblies came in a sieve, they did,-- Landing at eve near the Zemmery Fidd Where the Oblong Oysters grow, And the rocks are smooth and gray. And all the woods and the valleys rang With the Chorus they daily and nightly sang,-- 'Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue And they went to sea in a sieve.' Happily, happily passed those days! While the cheerful Jumblies staid; They danced in circlets all night long, To the plaintive pipe of the lively Dong, In moonlight, shine, or shade. For day and night he was always there By the side of the Jumbly Girl so fair, With her sky-blue hands, and her sea-green hair. Till the morning came of that hateful day When the Jumblies sailed in their sieve away, And the Dong was left on the cruel shore Gazing--gazing for evermore,-- Ever keeping his weary eyes on That pea-green sail on the far horizon,-- Singing the Jumbly Chorus still As he sate all day on the grassy hill,-- 'Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue And they went to sea in a sieve.' But when the sun was low in the West, The Dong arose and said;-- --'What little sense I once possessed 'Has quite gone out of my head!'-- And since that day he wanders still By lake or forest, marsh and hill, Singing--'O somewhere, in valley or plain 'Might I find my Jumbly Girl again! 'For ever I'll seek by lake and shore 'Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more!' Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks, Since then his Jumbly Girl he seeks, And because by night he could not see, He gathered the bark of the Twangum Tree On the flowery plain that grows. And he wove him a wondrous Nose,-- A Nose as strange as a Nose could be! Of vast proportions and painted red, And tied with cords to the back of his head. --In a hollow rounded space it ended With a luminous Lamp within suspended, All fenced about With a bandage stout To prevent the wind from blowing it out;-- And with holes all round to send the light, In gleaming rays on the dismal night. And now each night, and all night long, Over those plains still roams the Dong; And above the wall of the Chimp and Snipe You may hear the sqeak of his plaintive pipe While ever he seeks, but seeks in vain To meet with his Jumbly Girl again; Lonely and wild--all night he goes,-- The Dong with a luminous Nose! And all who watch at the midnight hour, From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower, Cry, as they trace the Meteor bright, Moving along through the dreary night,-- 'This is the hour when forth he goes, 'The Dong with a luminous Nose! 'Yonder--over the plain he goes, 'He goes! 'He goes; 'The Dong with a luminous Nose!'

How 'bout a statue of Idi Amin?

Just take them back to the MEC warranty desk.

I bet if you had enough of these rings you'd never have to tape your fingers again. My precioussssss

Cumsack Mountain southeast of Waddington