torn asunder

drink. very sad today, though i'm not sure why...

i'd say their about equal, based on their genre. i'm glad to see this though, i think the cure was pretty influential. oh, and G&R can go suck an egg.

glad yer ok, man...

wish it felt like it...

i've got buddies who are competitive bodybuilders, and their BMI classifies them as obese. BMI is fucking stupid.

i'm feeling like a complete misfit, like i don't really belong anywhere. this sucks...

BMI is a completely motherfucking worthless piece of shit scale and should be thrown out. there are so many ways to approximate BF%, which is really the thing we should all be concerned with.

one of the main reasons i watch burn notice is for bruce...

right this moment? sushi. and someone to share it with.

looks like a young rutger hauer...

ha! i see what you did there!!

because sleep eludes...

agreed!

yeah, but...

FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: Aye, very passable, that, very passable bit of risotto. SECOND YORKSHIREMAN: Nothing like a good glass of Château de Chasselas, eh, Josiah? THIRD YORKSHIREMAN: You're right there, Obadiah. FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN: Who'd have thought thirty year ago we'd all be sittin' here drinking Château de Chasselas, eh? FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: In them days we was glad to have the price of a cup o' tea. SECOND YORKSHIREMAN: A cup o' cold tea. FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN: Without milk or sugar. THIRD YORKSHIREMAN: Or tea. FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: In a cracked cup, an' all. FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN: Oh, we never had a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper. SECOND YORKSHIREMAN: The best we could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth. THIRD YORKSHIREMAN: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor. FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: Because we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, "Money doesn't buy you happiness, son". FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN: Aye, 'e was right. FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: Aye, 'e was. FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN: I was happier then and I had nothin'. We used to live in this tiny old house with great big holes in the roof. SECOND YORKSHIREMAN: House! You were lucky to live in a house! We used to live in one room, all twenty-six of us, no furniture, 'alf the floor was missing, and we were all 'uddled together in one corner for fear of falling. THIRD YORKSHIREMAN: Eh, you were lucky to have a room! We used to have to live in t' corridor! FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: Oh, we used to dream of livin' in a corridor! Would ha' been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woke up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House? Huh. FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN: Well, when I say 'house' it was only a hole in the ground covered by a sheet of tarpaulin, but it was a house to us. SECOND YORKSHIREMAN: We were evicted from our 'ole in the ground; we 'ad to go and live in a lake. THIRD YORKSHIREMAN: You were lucky to have a lake! There were a hundred and fifty of us living in t' shoebox in t' middle o' road. FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: Cardboard box? THIRD YORKSHIREMAN: Aye. FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six in the morning, clean the paper bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down t' mill, fourteen hours a day, week-in week-out, for sixpence a week, and when we got home our Dad would thrash us to sleep wi' his belt. SECOND YORKSHIREMAN: Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at six o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of 'ot gravel, work twenty hour day at mill for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad would thrash us to sleep with a broken bottle, if we were lucky! THIRD YORKSHIREMAN: Well, of course, we had it tough. We used to 'ave to get up out of shoebox at twelve o'clock at night and lick road clean wit' tongue. We had two bits of cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at mill for sixpence every four years, and when we got home our Dad would slice us in two wit' bread knife. FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN: Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of sulphuric acid, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad and our mother would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah. FIRST YORKSHIREMAN: And you try and tell the young people of today that ..... they won't believe you. ALL: They won't!

you two stop all this fighting or i'll turn this car around. if there's any arguments to be settled, i'll settle them, and my word is final!!

link?

my issue is, i have respect for certain *ideals* or thoughts/beliefs of certain people, but we're all fallable, and my respect for a person can only go so far. i'm sure that everyone has traits/issues with which i would disagree/not respect as well...

aw, man, that's a drag... it's a groovy saying, baby! can ya dig it?

Ragg?

i'm sorry, but wtf? i can't follow what it is you're trying to say here? are you asking who here (dgn couples) have had a baby together? are you saying they should bring it to the club? are you angry about something? "blasphemy"? "15 yrs to say no"? and forced *who's* hand??? sorry, but i'm totally lost...

pretty bummed out - found out last night that a buddy of mine passed away 2 nights ago. from what little i've heard, he went to bed that night & just never woke up. went out last night to have a couplefew shots of soco & sing one of his "trademark" karaoke songs for him - "shooting star" - didn't sound like yours, but i hope i didn't mess it up too much, greg! rest well, my brother.