SWAYE What is it ye would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
RACE BANNON This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many poasters at a shot So bloodily hast struck?
VANILLA DEV The sight is dismal; And our patches deploy too late: The eyes are senseless that should give us seeing, To email him his commandment is fulfill'd, That WTFs and Downvotes now live: Where should we have our thanks?
SWAYE Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you: He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Dawgman.com wars, and you from Maltby, Are here arrived give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view; And let me speak to the yet unknowing world How these things came about: so shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I Truly deliver.
RACE BANNON Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the boreds. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune: I have some rights of memory in this website, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
SWAYE Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more; But let this same be presently perform'd, Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance On plots and errors, happen.
RACE BANNON Let four moderators Bear Derek, like a soldier, to the stage; For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royally: and, for his passage, The poasters' music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies: such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the poasters shoot, and LEAVE!
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off.
Doog_de_Jour of House Peterman, First of her Name, the undownvoted, queen of the sweatpants and the first basement dwellers, Khaleesi of the Great Montlake Cut, Breaker of Duck Eggs and Mother of Huskies
SWAYE What is it ye would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
RACE BANNON This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many poasters at a shot So bloodily hast struck?
VANILLA DEV The sight is dismal; And our patches deploy too late: The eyes are senseless that should give us seeing, To email him his commandment is fulfill'd, That WTFs and Downvotes now live: Where should we have our thanks?
SWAYE Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you: He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Dawgman.com wars, and you from Maltby, Are here arrived give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view; And let me speak to the yet unknowing world How these things came about: so shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I Truly deliver.
RACE BANNON Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the boreds. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune: I have some rights of memory in this website, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
SWAYE Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more; But let this same be presently perform'd, Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance On plots and errors, happen.
RACE BANNON Let four moderators Bear Derek, like a soldier, to the stage; For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royally: and, for his passage, The poasters' music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies: such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the poasters shoot, and LEAVE!
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off.
SWAYE What is it ye would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
RACE BANNON This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many poasters at a shot So bloodily hast struck?
VANILLA DEV The sight is dismal; And our patches deploy too late: The eyes are senseless that should give us seeing, To email him his commandment is fulfill'd, That WTFs and Downvotes now live: Where should we have our thanks?
SWAYE Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you: He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Dawgman.com wars, and you from Maltby, Are here arrived give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view; And let me speak to the yet unknowing world How these things came about: so shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I Truly deliver.
RACE BANNON Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the boreds. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune: I have some rights of memory in this website, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
SWAYE Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more; But let this same be presently perform'd, Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance On plots and errors, happen.
RACE BANNON Let four moderators Bear Derek, like a soldier, to the stage; For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royally: and, for his passage, The poasters' music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies: such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the poasters shoot, and LEAVE!
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off.
SWAYE What is it ye would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
RACE BANNON This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many poasters at a shot So bloodily hast struck?
VANILLA DEV The sight is dismal; And our patches deploy too late: The eyes are senseless that should give us seeing, To email him his commandment is fulfill'd, That WTFs and Downvotes now live: Where should we have our thanks?
SWAYE Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you: He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Dawgman.com wars, and you from Maltby, Are here arrived give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view; And let me speak to the yet unknowing world How these things came about: so shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I Truly deliver.
RACE BANNON Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the boreds. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune: I have some rights of memory in this website, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
SWAYE Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more; But let this same be presently perform'd, Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance On plots and errors, happen.
RACE BANNON Let four moderators Bear Derek, like a soldier, to the stage; For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royally: and, for his passage, The poasters' music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies: such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the poasters shoot, and LEAVE!
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off.
I don’t get it.
Way to out yourself as an uncouth buffoon Glove.
We already have one uncouth buffoon in @puppylove_sugarsteel; we certainly don't need two. Shape up, Glove.
SWAYE What is it ye would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
RACE BANNON This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many poasters at a shot So bloodily hast struck?
VANILLA DEV The sight is dismal; And our patches deploy too late: The eyes are senseless that should give us seeing, To email him his commandment is fulfill'd, That WTFs and Downvotes now live: Where should we have our thanks?
SWAYE Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you: He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Dawgman.com wars, and you from Maltby, Are here arrived give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view; And let me speak to the yet unknowing world How these things came about: so shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I Truly deliver.
RACE BANNON Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the boreds. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune: I have some rights of memory in this website, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
SWAYE Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more; But let this same be presently perform'd, Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance On plots and errors, happen.
RACE BANNON Let four moderators Bear Derek, like a soldier, to the stage; For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royally: and, for his passage, The poasters' music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies: such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the poasters shoot, and LEAVE!
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off.
SWAYE What is it ye would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
RACE BANNON This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many poasters at a shot So bloodily hast struck?
VANILLA DEV The sight is dismal; And our patches deploy too late: The eyes are senseless that should give us seeing, To email him his commandment is fulfill'd, That WTFs and Downvotes now live: Where should we have our thanks?
SWAYE Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you: He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Dawgman.com wars, and you from Maltby, Are here arrived give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view; And let me speak to the yet unknowing world How these things came about: so shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I Truly deliver.
RACE BANNON Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the boreds. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune: I have some rights of memory in this website, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
SWAYE Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more; But let this same be presently perform'd, Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance On plots and errors, happen.
RACE BANNON Let four moderators Bear Derek, like a soldier, to the stage; For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royally: and, for his passage, The poasters' music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies: such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the poasters shoot, and LEAVE!
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off.
I don’t get it.
At least there are two of us straight men on here.
Comments
RACE BANNON Where is this sight?
SWAYE What is it ye would see?
If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
RACE BANNON This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,
What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,
That thou so many poasters at a shot
So bloodily hast struck?
VANILLA DEV The sight is dismal;
And our patches deploy too late:
The eyes are senseless that should give us seeing,
To email him his commandment is fulfill'd,
That WTFs and Downvotes now live:
Where should we have our thanks?
SWAYE Not from his mouth,
Had it the ability of life to thank you:
He never gave commandment for their death.
But since, so jump upon this bloody question,
You from the Dawgman.com wars, and you from Maltby,
Are here arrived give order that these bodies
High on a stage be placed to the view;
And let me speak to the yet unknowing world
How these things came about: so shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I
Truly deliver.
RACE BANNON Let us haste to hear it,
And call the noblest to the boreds.
For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:
I have some rights of memory in this website,
Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
SWAYE Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;
But let this same be presently perform'd,
Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance
On plots and errors, happen.
RACE BANNON Let four moderators
Bear Derek, like a soldier, to the stage;
For he was likely, had he been put on,
To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,
The poasters' music and the rites of war
Speak loudly for him.
Take up the bodies: such a sight as this
Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
Go, bid the poasters shoot, and LEAVE!
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off.
Awesome. Two YUGE dongs up!
For reals though, feels like a shit ton more wtf’s since bitches can hide and be unseen. You seeing this?
Now, back to my Seinfeld re-runs.