allthumbs

Hey Erik, I see you had a good time last night.

Download this bitch and join society as thinking, intelligent human beings, rather that dumb fucking morons without a clue. Spell Checker Poem Eye halve a spelling chequer It came with my pea sea It plainly marques four my revue Miss steaks eye kin knot sea. Eye strike a key and type a word And weight four it two say Weather eye am wrong oar write It shows me strait a weigh. As soon as a mist ache is maid It nose bee fore two long And eye can put the error rite Its rare lea ever wrong. Eye have run this poem threw it I am shore your pleased two no Its letter perfect awl the weigh My chequer tolled me sew.

I believe it has to do with the phentic system that was used to teach most of us to read. but aside from that... there's my excuse... I haven't graduated from college (wheew) you mean PHONETICS

Goddammit Muffy, I sent you a sweet little "ie-speller" to load on your taskbar. Don't play dumb with me, sista.

I find it distressing that our Nation's colleges and universities are actually graduating stupid fucking ignoramuses that can't spell. A sad state of affairs, if you ask me.

you are = you're they are = they're are not =aren't is not = isn't do not = don't were not = weren't was not = wasn't their = "it's their car" it is = it's etc...... I know a lot of you fucks claim that you type too fast, or are too busy to be bothered with correct grammar and punctuation, but I call bullshit. I think you're just fucking lazy and stupid. Grow a pair.

Goddamn, you ho, STFU with the anatomy lesson already. Nobody but wacko fag engineer geeks want to hear that shit. Gimp Beyotch

Erik, does your boyfriend wear an asbestos coated condom and bio-hazard suit when he fucks you?

Think that's funny, Eric? You're a sicko. Why doncha stop rubbing Rogaine onto your swollen manboobs in the hopes of growing some chest hair, and come away from that window you're wiggling your ass out of, in the hope that some passing stranger might be desperate enough to grope it for the first sexual experience of your life, and get in here so I can force-feed you a generous helping of Shut The Fuck Up... Oh, and have your pink kneepads fitted already - you'll be needing them, you cum guzzling, gimp wristed, monkey ass, fag bunny beyotch...

RuMr - if I wanted to hear from an asshole, I'd fart. STFU Gimp.

Shut it, before I jack-hammer your head into the concrete pavement and plant pretty plastic flowers in your ass, you brain-fried gimpzoid spazboy.

No shit. A gal fiend and I had wine and listened to her "Live in Paris" CD last night, and I'm still walking funny and weak.

Do you want to send an e-mail message to the White House? Good luck. In the past, to tell President Bush -- or at least those assigned to read his mail -- what was on your mind it was only necessary to sit down at a personal computer connected to the Internet and dash off an e-mail to president@whitehouse.gov. But this week, Tom Matzzie, an online organizer with the AFL-CIO, discovered that communicating with the White House has become a bit more daunting. When he sent an e-mail protest against a Bush administration policy, the message was bounced back with an automated reply, saying that he had to send it again in a new way. Under a system that was deployed on the White House Web site for the first time last week, those who want to send a message to Bush must now navigate as many as nine Web pages and fill out a detailed form that starts by asking whether the message sender supports White House policy or differs with it. Article

C'mon Kurt. I didn't imply that it was Diana with her jazz, or nothing. Are you and Dru so parochial and superficial that it's Baha Men or "get the fuck off the bus"?

Gimp - If I want the advice of a dimwit, I'll slap you on the back of the head and wake up that little hamster that operates the drool-powered waterwheel of thought in your tiny skull. Until then, sit in the corner and wait until some one either speaks to you or spits at you. Got it, fucko?

Yeah your balls probably still smell like poo, don't they? Gimp, don't start babbling like you had a mouth full of depends and a clue in your head.

damn fine piano player too

Shut your cake hole before I come over there and kick your nuts so hard they dislodge your tonsils into where your eyeballs used to be right before I grabbed your mother's dildo out of your father's ass and used it to poke your brain out through the back of your John Merrick cranium, Mr. Shitforbrains.

she rocks my boat - check her out

according to my 10 day forcast, we're in for 80 plus degree weather and sun, sun, sun for at least the next full week kick out the jambs!!!

kobe like the wild thang woohoo

Shut your fucking cake hole before I wire your eyeballs to a defibrillator; set the voltage to Kill, and smile as you go flying around the flashing coop like a beheaded multicolored, fire-farting chicken before collapsing conveniently at my feet so I can piss-out the flames and feed the remains of your fried gimp carcass to the pigs.

you talkin to me, pudpounder?

shut up libs. bush is a moron, true, but the cartoon is stooopid.

No, naked will do just fine.