Question:
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text ->> > Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? >> PURVURT >I agree 125% >Iz sasha a child moolester?
dont go there its an evil place.
Response:
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text ->>> > Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? >>> PURVURT >>I agree 125% >Iz sasha a child moolester? >dont go there its an evil place.
ewwwwww! i fel dirty alredy, can we kill teh demons two mak it saf?
Response:
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text ->>>> > Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? >>>> PURVURT >>>I agree 125% >>Iz sasha a child moolester? >dont go there its an evil place. >ewwwwww! i fel dirty alredy, can we kill teh demons two mak it saf?
yes but only on teh internet !
Response:
Eustece Cunt roted in alt.music.white-power: > Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? > PURVURT
DONED BE BRINGIN DUM NIGERS INTER ARE SIGHT YUO DUM NIGER ! AMWP BLESSED BE
Response:
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -> Eustece Cunt roted in alt.music.white-power: >> Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? > PURVURT > DONED BE BRINGIN DUM NIGERS INTER ARE SIGHT YUO DUM NIGER ! > AMWP > BLESSED BE
HIS NOT A NIGER HIS JUST PRACTISSING. IM TRYING TO STOP HIS TOM FULERY
Response:
> Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? > PURVURT
I agree 125%
Response:
>Eustece Cunt roted in alt.music.white-power: >> Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? > PURVURT >DONED BE BRINGIN DUM NIGERS INTER ARE SIGHT YUO DUM NIGER !
yeah dum mormon make debby cum in are sight instead ! – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – >AMWP >BLESSED BE
Response:
>> > Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? > PURVURT >I agree 125%
Iz sasha a child moolester?
Response:
> Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round?
PURVURT
Response:
And what does this have to do with Ozzy? Slow Dance Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? Or, listened to the rain slapping on the ground? Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight? Or, gazed at the sun into the fading night? You better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. Time is short. The music won’t last. Do you run through each day on the fly? When you ask, "How are you?" do you hear the reply? When the day is done, do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores running through your head? You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. Time is short. The music won’t last. Ever told your child "we’ll do it tomorrow"? And, in your haste, not see his sorrow? Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die cause you never had time to call to say, "hi"? You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. Time is short. The music won’t last. When you run so fast to get somewhere you miss half the fun of getting there. When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift thrown away. Life is not a race. Do take it slower. Hear the music before the song is over. This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital. Sent by: Dr. Dennis Shields, Professor Department of Developmental and Molecular Biology 1300 Morris Park Avenue Bronx, New York 10461 -=Gia=- OZZY RULZ!!
Response:
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -> Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? > Or, listened to the rain slapping on the ground? > Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight? > Or, gazed at the sun into the fading night? > You better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > Do you run through each day on the fly? > When you ask, "How are you?" do you hear the reply? > When the day is done, do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores > running through your head? > You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > Ever told your child "we’ll do it tomorrow"? > And, in your haste, not see his sorrow? > Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die cause you never had time to call > to say, "hi"? > You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > When you run so fast to get somewhere you miss half the fun of getting > there. > When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift > thrown away. > Life is not a race. Do take it slower. > Hear the music before the song is over. > This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital. >Your body lies without a twitch-can’t move >Feeling gone, nothing to say or do >Still alive but you can’t think or see >You’re looking like a vegetable to me >The darkness lives forever >Within your mind >Time rolls by and you never paid the cost >Without your mind your body-it’s lost >Should we help to keep you alive? >Now’s the time to help you >DIE!!! >The darkness lives forever >Within your mind >No dreams, no thoughts it’s only >Endless time >Brain dead >Brain dead >Brain dead > This poem was written by a terminally deranged young man in a speed-metal band called EXODUS.
I taste your tears caress your face I watch you lie insane dying for love praying to die I want what’s inside you dressed in your blood you wear it well dying because I care your eyes are wide but you cannot see rotting my lust away I’ll shoot the violence through you and wake the part that’s dead I hate the silence in you I want what’s in your head Slayer kicks Exodus’ ass The Laughing Ghoul
Response:
"JuST A DuDe" sez- This poem was written by a terminally deranged young man in a speed-metal band called EXODUS. Heh, pretty funny. Lords of the New Church were better though.
Response:
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -> Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? > Or, listened to the rain slapping on the ground? > Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight? > Or, gazed at the sun into the fading night? > You better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > Do you run through each day on the fly? > When you ask, "How are you?" do you hear the reply? > When the day is done, do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores > running through your head? > You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > Ever told your child "we’ll do it tomorrow"? > And, in your haste, not see his sorrow? > Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die cause you never had time to call > to say, "hi"? > You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > When you run so fast to get somewhere you miss half the fun of getting > there. > When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift > thrown away. > Life is not a race. Do take it slower. > Hear the music before the song is over. > This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital. >Your body lies without a twitch-can’t move >Feeling gone, nothing to say or do >Still alive but you can’t think or see >You’re looking like a vegetable to me >The darkness lives forever >Within your mind >Time rolls by and you never paid the cost >Without your mind your body-it’s lost >Should we help to keep you alive? >Now’s the time to help you >DIE!!! >The darkness lives forever >Within your mind >No dreams, no thoughts it’s only >Endless time >Brain dead >Brain dead >Brain dead > This poem was written by a terminally deranged young man in a speed-metal band called EXODUS.
Paul Baloff is a big fat fuckhead The Laughing Ghoul
Response:
- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – > Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? > Or, listened to the rain slapping on the ground? > Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight? > Or, gazed at the sun into the fading night? > You better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > Do you run through each day on the fly? > When you ask, "How are you?" do you hear the reply? > When the day is done, do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores > running through your head? > You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > Ever told your child "we’ll do it tomorrow"? > And, in your haste, not see his sorrow? > Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die cause you never had time to call > to say, "hi"? > You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. > Time is short. The music won’t last. > When you run so fast to get somewhere you miss half the fun of getting > there. > When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift > thrown away. > Life is not a race. Do take it slower. > Hear the music before the song is over. > This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital.
Your body lies without a twitch-can’t move Feeling gone, nothing to say or do Still alive but you can’t think or see You’re looking like a vegetable to me The darkness lives forever Within your mind Time rolls by and you never paid the cost Without your mind your body-it’s lost Should we help to keep you alive? Now’s the time to help you DIE!!! The darkness lives forever Within your mind No dreams, no thoughts it’s only Endless time Brain dead Brain dead Brain dead This poem was written by a terminally deranged young man in a speed-metal band called EXODUS.
Response:
Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? Or, listened to the rain slapping on the ground? Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight? Or, gazed at the sun into the fading night? You better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. Time is short. The music won’t last. Do you run through each day on the fly? When you ask, "How are you?" do you hear the reply? When the day is done, do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores running through your head? You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. Time is short. The music won’t last. Ever told your child "we’ll do it tomorrow"? And, in your haste, not see his sorrow? Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die cause you never had time to call to say, "hi"? You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so fast. Time is short. The music won’t last. When you run so fast to get somewhere you miss half the fun of getting there. When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift thrown away. Life is not a race. Do take it slower. Hear the music before the song is over. This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital. Sent by: Dr. Dennis Shields, Professor Department of Developmental and Molecular Biology 1300 Morris Park Avenue Bronx, New York 10461