Springtime for Goatse and Jew Haters, Penisman is happy and gay. We're marching to a faster pace, Look out, here comes the master race.
Springtime for Trollers and Widening, Winter for Linux and GNU. Springtime for Offtopic and Turd Report, Come on, Trollers, go into your dance...
I was born in Dusseldorf, and that is why they call me Rolf. Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the Troller party.
Springtime for FP and ANAL COCKS (Gun fires twice) Goose-step's the new step today (Machine gun fires) Bombs falling from the skies again, (Bomb falls and explodes) Windows is on the rise again
Springtime for Sarcasm and Insulting U-boats are sailing once more [woman's voice]: "Well! Talk about bad taste!" Springtime for Bank of America ATM Means... that... soon we'll be going... We've got to be going... You know we'll be going to... WAR!
Really really gay. I am the gayest thing this side of the Pecos. Hay as mississippi. Gay by dawn. Gay deudorodamy or however the damn bible spells it. Gay gay gay have gay will travel one if by gay two if by gay.
Peter placed his hands on Egon's head, holding him in, entwining his fingers through the soft hair, moving one hand as he continued to kiss him until he was running his fingers through the curl on top. He noticed -- minutes later -- that despite his efforts the shock of hair remained curled. He wondered vaguely if that would hold true for the real Egon, and then thoughts vanished again as hands pulled him gently forward, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. He moaned, and followed. "I really--" "Shh," a finger pressed against his lips, and Peter licked it, wondering what Egon would taste like. He was rewarded with a shiver; he licked again. He began to explore the hand with his tongue. He remembered dreams where he had had only this to show Egon how much he felt, only this simple touch to express his devotion. He moved, in this reality's dream, expressing all the touches he would never again be able express. Would this simulacrum understand? Peter wanted to stop and ask, but his mind refused to leave the dream. He barely felt the hands moving along his on body, as he concentrated on loving the hand he held. One hand finally pulled his head up, and he saw Egon's eyes staring down at him with arousal. An electric spark shook his body, from one fingertip where Peter was touching him, to the tips of his toes. It was impossible to say no, now, and Peter lunged forward. The kiss was impatient, telling him everything he wanted. When the kiss was broken, Peter found himself being led to the bedroom, shirt unbuttoned along the way. He let himself be undressed and eased onto the bed. Then he watched Egon's body slowly reveal itself. Each article of clothing was removed with slow care, tormenting and enticing Peter. He waited, though, patiently until the other was standing naked beside the bed, smiling wonderfully down at him. Peter moved, then, reaching up and taking a hand and guided him down to lay with him. Peter began a second exploration, kissing every inch of skin he wanted to hold. Hands and tongue returned the gestures, rubbing him and arousing him until all he could do was moan continuously. He held still, sucking on skin - where on Egon's body he didn't know, he couldn't open his eyes to see as a finger traced his erection gently. His lover was almost as meticulous as he, in touching every bit of his body as if cataloging him for some piece of intimate research. Peter moved his head away, breathing shallowly as a hand began stroking him. He reached blindly out, finding Egon's head and pulling him close. Peter leaned up to kiss him, and he opened his eyes. Egon's blue eyes shone at him, smiling, aroused and happy. Peter opened his mouth to whisper -- and froze. A huge dark pit formed in his stomach. This was not Egon. This was not the one who should hear those words of love. He shoved himself away, every last vestige of arousal fled in mere moments. Shaking, he curled up in a ball on the corner of the bed. He couldn't believe he was doing this. "Peter?" Egon's concerned voice came at him. A mockery of Egon's voice. Peter wanted to yell at it, he wanted to yell at himself. This was not Egon. This was not loving Egon. Egon would never love him this way and pretending, even with this... creature who said it was all he had been made for, Peter's reward, he could not. Peter leapt off the bed and searched for his clothes. He realised, as he tried focusing on the scraps of cloth strewn around, that he was crying. "Peter?" The simulacrum spoke again, this time his voice was not so much like Egon's. Not in pitch, that was still the voice of his best friend. But the doubtful echo, the tone of understanding that this was over, made the creature sound inhuman. Peter looked up at it, not sure if he was beginning to feel anger, and whether it was directed at himself of this thing which wore Egon's sorrowful face. "I won't do this. You can keep your reward... I can't--" Peter grabbed his clothes and dressed, not looking over, though he knew the simulacrum was standing there, watching him. Peter was shaking harder now, trying to suppress his tears until he could at least get out of here, away from people who didn't need to see Dr. Peter Venkman lose control. "Did I do something wrong?" The creature had not moved, and did not sound upset. Rather it sounded curious, and Peter wanted to scream at it. Instead he just looked up, now fully dressed and ready to get as far away as he could. "Tell your Mistress that I can't accept her offer." Peter kept very tight control of himself as he spoke. It was hard, the second hardest thing he thought he had ever done. "Tell her I'll take that hot shower, and we'll call ourselves quits." The hint of flippancy got him out the door, past the living room and finally to the front door. He grabbed the doorknob, cursing himself for not taking it earlier, leaving before he could ever say yes. His body was still flushed, warmed by the touches and his lips still carried the taste of Egon.... He ran to the fire stairs and headed down; alone in the stairwell he let himself start to cry.
Peter placed his hands on Egon's head, holding him in, entwining his fingers through the soft hair, moving one hand as he continued to kiss him until he was running his fingers through the curl on top. He noticed -- minutes later -- that despite his efforts the shock of hair remained curled. He wondered vaguely if that would hold true for the real Egon, and then thoughts vanished again as hands pulled him gently forward, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. He moaned, and followed. "I really--" "Shh," a finger pressed against his lips, and Peter licked it, wondering what Egon would taste like. He was rewarded with a shiver; he licked again. He began to explore the hand with his tongue. He remembered dreams where he had had only this to show Egon how much he felt, only this simple touch to express his devotion. He moved, in this reality's dream, expressing all the touches he would never again be able express. Would this simulacrum understand? Peter wanted to stop and ask, but his mind refused to leave the dream. He barely felt the hands moving along his on body, as he concentrated on loving the hand he held. One hand finally pulled his head up, and he saw Egon's eyes staring down at him with arousal. An electric spark shook his body, from one fingertip where Peter was touching him, to the tips of his toes. It was impossible to say no, now, and Peter lunged forward. The kiss was impatient, telling him everything he wanted. When the kiss was broken, Peter found himself being led to the bedroom, shirt unbuttoned along the way. He let himself be undressed and eased onto the bed. Then he watched Egon's body slowly reveal itself. Each article of clothing was removed with slow care, tormenting and enticing Peter. He waited, though, patiently until the other was standing naked beside the bed, smiling wonderfully down at him. Peter moved, then, reaching up and taking a hand and guided him down to lay with him. Peter began a second exploration, kissing every inch of skin he wanted to hold. Hands and tongue returned the gestures, rubbing him and arousing him until all he could do was moan continuously. He held still, sucking on skin - where on Egon's body he didn't know, he couldn't open his eyes to see as a finger traced his erection gently. His lover was almost as meticulous as he, in touching every bit of his body as if cataloging him for some piece of intimate research. Peter moved his head away, breathing shallowly as a hand began stroking him. He reached blindly out, finding Egon's head and pulling him close. Peter leaned up to kiss him, and he opened his eyes. Egon's blue eyes shone at him, smiling, aroused and happy. Peter opened his mouth to whisper -- and froze. A huge dark pit formed in his stomach. This was not Egon. This was not the one who should hear those words of love. He shoved himself away, every last vestige of arousal fled in mere moments. Shaking, he curled up in a ball on the corner of the bed. He couldn't believe he was doing this. "Peter?" Egon's concerned voice came at him. A mockery of Egon's voice. Peter wanted to yell at it, he wanted to yell at himself. This was not Egon. This was not loving Egon. Egon would never love him this way and pretending, even with this... creature who said it was all he had been made for, Peter's reward, he could not. Peter leapt off the bed and searched for his clothes. He realised, as he tried focusing on the scraps of cloth strewn around, that he was crying. "Peter?" The simulacrum spoke again, this time his voice was not so much like Egon's. Not in pitch, that was still the voice of his best friend. But the doubtful echo, the tone of understanding that this was over, made the creature sound inhuman. Peter looked up at it, not sure if he was beginning to feel anger, and whether it was directed at himself of this thing which wore Egon's sorrowful face. "I won't do this. You can keep your reward... I can't--" Peter grabbed his clothes and dressed, not looking over, though he knew the simulacrum was standing there, watching him. Peter was shaking harder now, trying to suppress his tears until he could at least get out of here, away from people who didn't need to see Dr. Peter Venkman lose control. "Did I do something wrong?" The creature had not moved, and did not sound upset. Rather it sounded curious, and Peter wanted to scream at it. Instead he just looked up, now fully dressed and ready to get as far away as he could. "Tell your Mistress that I can't accept her offer." Peter kept very tight control of himself as he spoke. It was hard, the second hardest thing he thought he had ever done. "Tell her I'll take that hot shower, and we'll call ourselves quits." The hint of flippancy got him out the door, past the living room and finally to the front door. He grabbed the doorknob, cursing himself for not taking it earlier, leaving before he could ever say yes. His body was still flushed, warmed by the touches and his lips still carried the taste of Egon.... He ran to the fire stairs and headed down; alone in the stairwell he let himself start to cry.
Great Troll. Not only do you bring up nonsense, something anyone can do, you do it in a way that convinces everyone that you are making some sort of sense. You are a genius.
Okay, that was pretty good. Too short, and a little confusing, considering the Japanese sided with the Germans. Keep at it though! I have all the faith in the world that you will soon be keeping slashdot an interesting place.
You are everything that is wrong with people. You are the sucker-fush that latches on and does not give up sucking a victim no matter how long it takes. You have made me ashamed to be using a computer after reading all the complaining you did. The only thing I can be glad about is that nobody gave you any satisfaction whatsoever. They, like me, quickly realized that you love to waste people's time with foolish complaints and ridiculous chatter. I have a suggestion for you: Shut the hell up the next time someone tells you to. It is not their responsibility to put up with you, nor is it the job of any higher-up in this company either. just. shut. up. prick.
Ah, another day another ignorant slashdolt. Disney was the ONLY company that agreed to release Ghibli productions without any editing whatsoever. Abso-fucking-loutly no other big names would bite, probably thinking that all the tentacle rape would turn off the American crowds. Guess what you bunch of whiners? Either you pay to see a Diznee movie and buy a Diznee DVD or YOU DON'T FUCKING WATCH IT.
hahahaha
Now you have the chance to vote with your dollar. Think that Diznee sucks? Skip EVERYTHING that they put their name on. Include Miramax. Realize how fucked America is and move out of Country. Repeat every 200 years.
Doctors leave tubes in only long enough for the woman (or man, who am I to judge?) to decide if they want more/less. I would guess they do something like close up the tube and yank it out.
Methinks slashdot is now officially owned by Trolls. Nary a relevant or ACTUALLY interesting post to be seen for a mile around. Sorry guys, but our work may be done here. I remember when I could actually find a worthwhile non-Troll post around here; alas times have changed. I think that pay-per-view stuff would have to be the proverbial hair that broke the camel's back. All users do now is read the Trolls and go to better sites that are way more relevant. I guess I would have to thank the creators for proving that the discussion-about-posted-news-topics idea works well - as long as people have respect for the admins/moderators/each other. Too bad there is never going to be a big profit made on it. People's ideas of loyalty are very different when it comes to the "Internet." Watch them drop out of the sites they were so proud to frequent only a month ago. I have done it a million times and so have you. Maybe if it were the real world and you guys were a mom-and-pop store we might feel bad for ditching your sore asses, but get real. I don't care about you guys. Pay to get links to other places on the net? Reuters and AP give me REAL NEWS for free! (not to imply that they will stay afloat.)
Well, even though we should get off of this sinking ship, the rest of us rats are going to laugh at the people too oblivious to notice the rising water line.
We all feel that we have to do out part in keeping Trolling as accurate as possible. In that respect, please fix the link to the Troll library. Accidents like this one may seem to be small, but they will eventually lead to the loss of the high standards Trolling has evolved.
I appreciate your effort and conclude this message with a penis. 9===>
Slashdot Mirror
Springtime for Goatse and Jew Haters,
...
... that ... soon we'll be going ... We've got to be going ... You know we'll be going to ... WAR!
Penisman is happy and gay.
We're marching to a faster pace,
Look out, here comes the master race.
Springtime for Trollers and Widening,
Winter for Linux and GNU.
Springtime for Offtopic and Turd Report,
Come on, Trollers, go into your dance
I was born in Dusseldorf, and that is why they call me Rolf. Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the Troller party.
Springtime for FP and ANAL COCKS
(Gun fires twice)
Goose-step's the new step today
(Machine gun fires)
Bombs falling from the skies again,
(Bomb falls and explodes)
Windows is on the rise again
Springtime for Sarcasm and Insulting
U-boats are sailing once more
[woman's voice]: "Well! Talk about bad taste!" Springtime for Bank of America ATM Means
No, I am Mayor McPenisman and I am gay.
Really really gay. I am the gayest thing this side of the Pecos. Hay as mississippi. Gay by dawn. Gay deudorodamy or however the damn bible spells it. Gay gay gay have gay will travel one if by gay two if by gay.
You got the power
when all hell's breaking lose
you are right in the eye of the storm
You got the touch!
fuck this old skool shit.
lets talk perturbation theory!
just like to say I posted that, breaking my long standing beliefs in AC suckdom.
The -1 posting level just got me down, and I wanted to bother more people this afternoon.
Peter placed his hands on Egon's head, holding him in, entwining
his fingers through the soft hair, moving one hand as he continued to
kiss him until he was running his fingers through the curl on top. He
noticed -- minutes later -- that despite his efforts the shock of hair
remained curled. He wondered vaguely if that would hold true for the
real Egon, and then thoughts vanished again as hands pulled him gently
forward, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. He moaned, and
followed.
"I really--"
"Shh," a finger pressed against his lips, and Peter licked it,
wondering what Egon would taste like. He was rewarded with a shiver;
he licked again. He began to explore the hand with his tongue. He
remembered dreams where he had had only this to show Egon how much he
felt, only this simple touch to express his devotion. He moved, in
this reality's dream, expressing all the touches he would never again
be able express. Would this simulacrum understand? Peter wanted to
stop and ask, but his mind refused to leave the dream. He barely felt
the hands moving along his on body, as he concentrated on loving the
hand he held.
One hand finally pulled his head up, and he saw Egon's eyes
staring down at him with arousal. An electric spark shook his body,
from one fingertip where Peter was touching him, to the tips of his
toes. It was impossible to say no, now, and Peter lunged forward.
The kiss was impatient, telling him everything he wanted. When the
kiss was broken, Peter found himself being led to the bedroom, shirt
unbuttoned along the way. He let himself be undressed and eased onto
the bed.
Then he watched Egon's body slowly reveal itself. Each article
of clothing was removed with slow care, tormenting and enticing Peter.
He waited, though, patiently until the other was standing naked beside
the bed, smiling wonderfully down at him. Peter moved, then, reaching
up and taking a hand and guided him down to lay with him. Peter began
a second exploration, kissing every inch of skin he wanted to hold.
Hands and tongue returned the gestures, rubbing him and arousing
him until all he could do was moan continuously. He held still,
sucking on skin - where on Egon's body he didn't know, he couldn't
open his eyes to see as a finger traced his erection gently. His
lover was almost as meticulous as he, in touching every bit of his
body as if cataloging him for some piece of intimate research. Peter
moved his head away, breathing shallowly as a hand began stroking him.
He reached blindly out, finding Egon's head and pulling him close.
Peter leaned up to kiss him, and he opened his eyes. Egon's
blue eyes shone at him, smiling, aroused and happy. Peter opened his
mouth to whisper -- and froze. A huge dark pit formed in his stomach.
This was not Egon. This was not the one who should hear those words
of love. He shoved himself away, every last vestige of arousal fled
in mere moments. Shaking, he curled up in a ball on the corner of the
bed. He couldn't believe he was doing this.
"Peter?" Egon's concerned voice came at him. A mockery of
Egon's voice. Peter wanted to yell at it, he wanted to yell at
himself. This was not Egon. This was not loving Egon. Egon would
never love him this way and pretending, even with this... creature who
said it was all he had been made for, Peter's reward, he could not.
Peter leapt off the bed and searched for his clothes. He
realised, as he tried focusing on the scraps of cloth strewn around,
that he was crying.
"Peter?" The simulacrum spoke again, this time his voice was
not so much like Egon's. Not in pitch, that was still the voice of
his best friend. But the doubtful echo, the tone of understanding that
this was over, made the creature sound inhuman. Peter looked up at
it, not sure if he was beginning to feel anger, and whether it was
directed at himself of this thing which wore Egon's sorrowful face.
"I won't do this. You can keep your reward... I can't--" Peter
grabbed his clothes and dressed, not looking over, though he knew the
simulacrum was standing there, watching him. Peter was shaking harder
now, trying to suppress his tears until he could at least get out of
here, away from people who didn't need to see Dr. Peter Venkman lose
control.
"Did I do something wrong?" The creature had not moved, and did
not sound upset. Rather it sounded curious, and Peter wanted to
scream at it.
Instead he just looked up, now fully dressed and ready to get as
far away as he could. "Tell your Mistress that I can't accept her
offer." Peter kept very tight control of himself as he spoke. It was
hard, the second hardest thing he thought he had ever done. "Tell her
I'll take that hot shower, and we'll call ourselves quits." The hint
of flippancy got him out the door, past the living room and finally to
the front door. He grabbed the doorknob, cursing himself for not
taking it earlier, leaving before he could ever say yes. His body was
still flushed, warmed by the touches and his lips still carried the
taste of Egon....
He ran to the fire stairs and headed down; alone in the
stairwell he let himself start to cry.
Beautiful!
as one of my professors would constantly say.
Beautiful!
just beautiful.
Peter placed his hands on Egon's head, holding him in, entwining
his fingers through the soft hair, moving one hand as he continued to
kiss him until he was running his fingers through the curl on top. He
noticed -- minutes later -- that despite his efforts the shock of hair
remained curled. He wondered vaguely if that would hold true for the
real Egon, and then thoughts vanished again as hands pulled him gently
forward, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. He moaned, and
followed.
"I really--"
"Shh," a finger pressed against his lips, and Peter licked it,
wondering what Egon would taste like. He was rewarded with a shiver;
he licked again. He began to explore the hand with his tongue. He
remembered dreams where he had had only this to show Egon how much he
felt, only this simple touch to express his devotion. He moved, in
this reality's dream, expressing all the touches he would never again
be able express. Would this simulacrum understand? Peter wanted to
stop and ask, but his mind refused to leave the dream. He barely felt
the hands moving along his on body, as he concentrated on loving the
hand he held.
One hand finally pulled his head up, and he saw Egon's eyes
staring down at him with arousal. An electric spark shook his body,
from one fingertip where Peter was touching him, to the tips of his
toes. It was impossible to say no, now, and Peter lunged forward.
The kiss was impatient, telling him everything he wanted. When the
kiss was broken, Peter found himself being led to the bedroom, shirt
unbuttoned along the way. He let himself be undressed and eased onto
the bed.
Then he watched Egon's body slowly reveal itself. Each article
of clothing was removed with slow care, tormenting and enticing Peter.
He waited, though, patiently until the other was standing naked beside
the bed, smiling wonderfully down at him. Peter moved, then, reaching
up and taking a hand and guided him down to lay with him. Peter began
a second exploration, kissing every inch of skin he wanted to hold.
Hands and tongue returned the gestures, rubbing him and arousing
him until all he could do was moan continuously. He held still,
sucking on skin - where on Egon's body he didn't know, he couldn't
open his eyes to see as a finger traced his erection gently. His
lover was almost as meticulous as he, in touching every bit of his
body as if cataloging him for some piece of intimate research. Peter
moved his head away, breathing shallowly as a hand began stroking him.
He reached blindly out, finding Egon's head and pulling him close.
Peter leaned up to kiss him, and he opened his eyes. Egon's
blue eyes shone at him, smiling, aroused and happy. Peter opened his
mouth to whisper -- and froze. A huge dark pit formed in his stomach.
This was not Egon. This was not the one who should hear those words
of love. He shoved himself away, every last vestige of arousal fled
in mere moments. Shaking, he curled up in a ball on the corner of the
bed. He couldn't believe he was doing this.
"Peter?" Egon's concerned voice came at him. A mockery of
Egon's voice. Peter wanted to yell at it, he wanted to yell at
himself. This was not Egon. This was not loving Egon. Egon would
never love him this way and pretending, even with this... creature who
said it was all he had been made for, Peter's reward, he could not.
Peter leapt off the bed and searched for his clothes. He
realised, as he tried focusing on the scraps of cloth strewn around,
that he was crying.
"Peter?" The simulacrum spoke again, this time his voice was
not so much like Egon's. Not in pitch, that was still the voice of
his best friend. But the doubtful echo, the tone of understanding that
this was over, made the creature sound inhuman. Peter looked up at
it, not sure if he was beginning to feel anger, and whether it was
directed at himself of this thing which wore Egon's sorrowful face.
"I won't do this. You can keep your reward... I can't--" Peter
grabbed his clothes and dressed, not looking over, though he knew the
simulacrum was standing there, watching him. Peter was shaking harder
now, trying to suppress his tears until he could at least get out of
here, away from people who didn't need to see Dr. Peter Venkman lose
control.
"Did I do something wrong?" The creature had not moved, and did
not sound upset. Rather it sounded curious, and Peter wanted to
scream at it.
Instead he just looked up, now fully dressed and ready to get as
far away as he could. "Tell your Mistress that I can't accept her
offer." Peter kept very tight control of himself as he spoke. It was
hard, the second hardest thing he thought he had ever done. "Tell her
I'll take that hot shower, and we'll call ourselves quits." The hint
of flippancy got him out the door, past the living room and finally to
the front door. He grabbed the doorknob, cursing himself for not
taking it earlier, leaving before he could ever say yes. His body was
still flushed, warmed by the touches and his lips still carried the
taste of Egon....
He ran to the fire stairs and headed down; alone in the
stairwell he let himself start to cry.
hahahahahaha
so very insulting, so very funny.
Great Troll. Not only do you bring up nonsense, something anyone can do, you do it in a way that convinces everyone that you are making some sort of sense. You are a genius.
MORE excellent work!
I am really excited to have someone like you on the team!
Try to log in instead of remaining anonymous next time, and receive props to high heaven!
wow, your standards may have slipped. I have seem some gems float by in the recent days. Maybe I just have different tastes.
meh.
Didn't you read the article? It says Mary actually wants a penis and to be called "Big Fat Jacob" from now on. Mark has a lot of problems.
good work. You may not need me around anymore to make fun of everyone. Thanks.
hahahaha
amazing
a true candidite for Troll library
Okay, that was pretty good. Too short, and a little confusing, considering the Japanese sided with the Germans. Keep at it though! I have all the faith in the world that you will soon be keeping slashdot an interesting place.
penis.
Wow.
You are everything that is wrong with people. You are the sucker-fush that latches on and does not give up sucking a victim no matter how long it takes. You have made me ashamed to be using a computer after reading all the complaining you did. The only thing I can be glad about is that nobody gave you any satisfaction whatsoever. They, like me, quickly realized that you love to waste people's time with foolish complaints and ridiculous chatter.
I have a suggestion for you: Shut the hell up the next time someone tells you to. It is not their responsibility to put up with you, nor is it the job of any higher-up in this company either.
just.
shut.
up.
prick.
Sorry, but your Trolling just doean't cut it. Lacking in originality and really just not fun to read. Improvment is paramount.
Ah, another day another ignorant slashdolt. Disney was the ONLY company that agreed to release Ghibli productions without any editing whatsoever. Abso-fucking-loutly no other big names would bite, probably thinking that all the tentacle rape would turn off the American crowds. Guess what you bunch of whiners? Either you pay to see a Diznee movie and buy a Diznee DVD or YOU DON'T FUCKING WATCH IT.
hahahaha
Now you have the chance to vote with your dollar. Think that Diznee sucks? Skip EVERYTHING that they put their name on. Include Miramax. Realize how fucked America is and move out of Country. Repeat every 200 years.
Doctors leave tubes in only long enough for the woman (or man, who am I to judge?) to decide if they want more/less. I would guess they do something like close up the tube and yank it out.
Good work, try to strip out all of the links if there is a version 2.0
9===>
Methinks slashdot is now officially owned by Trolls. Nary a relevant or ACTUALLY interesting post to be seen for a mile around. Sorry guys, but our work may be done here. I remember when I could actually find a worthwhile non-Troll post around here; alas times have changed. I think that pay-per-view stuff would have to be the proverbial hair that broke the camel's back. All users do now is read the Trolls and go to better sites that are way more relevant. I guess I would have to thank the creators for proving that the discussion-about-posted-news-topics idea works well - as long as people have respect for the admins/moderators/each other. Too bad there is never going to be a big profit made on it. People's ideas of loyalty are very different when it comes to the "Internet." Watch them drop out of the sites they were so proud to frequent only a month ago. I have done it a million times and so have you. Maybe if it were the real world and you guys were a mom-and-pop store we might feel bad for ditching your sore asses, but get real. I don't care about you guys. Pay to get links to other places on the net? Reuters and AP give me REAL NEWS for free! (not to imply that they will stay afloat.)
Well, even though we should get off of this sinking ship, the rest of us rats are going to laugh at the people too oblivious to notice the rising water line.
Dear fellow Troll.
We all feel that we have to do out part in keeping Trolling as accurate as possible. In that respect, please fix the link to the Troll library. Accidents like this one may seem to be small, but they will eventually lead to the loss of the high standards Trolling has evolved.
I appreciate your effort and conclude this message with a penis.
9===>
Is it that boys have a penis and girls have a vagina, or the other way around?
Gotta think...
hahahahahahaha
amazing. You should consider quitting the amatuer league and go logged in...I think you are ready for it.