The Friday Night Flame War "He's Dead Jim" Post

You pussies.

You whimpering, teddy-bear rubbing whining simps. Lauraw served it up, and kicked your sniveling asses.

Was it too early? Were you working?

Aww.

She's squeezing out pus tonight that's tougher than you are.

We got an open blog and you're pretending you have a life.

Not me. Not me.

I ain't got shit.

Except that I despise each and every one of you.

Did I say despise? I meant pity.

You're all red shirt morons. The morons get shirts. The morons get red shirts.

And you know what that means..

UPDATE: You homos. Is "Texas" shit all you got. That's envy, bitches, and it's pathetic. I've dedicated a song to you below the "he's dead" fold.

I didn't want to do this. No I didn't.

UPDATE TO THE UPDATE: Sheesh, are you faggots all drunk before 10 central?

Some noteworthy, not really but sorta funny excerpts.

Confidence under John Daniels:

Shes got a really small mouth, so its conceivable your gerbil dick might squeeze in there

She'll look like a bass fish when I'm done with her....

Posted by: XBradTC at April 18, 2008 10:02 PM (AmWBy)

Someone who knows what she's talking about:

Dave's idea of a good night is getting drunk on Listerine and dry humping his pillow.

Posted by: dragonlady474 at April 18, 2008 10:17 PM (E3XtI)

Just being nasty to make a point:

Dear Smegged-out dry-dicked Iberican ass giblets,

suck it.

Posted by: Joanie at April 18, 2008 10:24 PM (Yyy1m)

I didn't understand it. But it looked cool.

You're worse than dead. Your brain is gone.

LauraW's mother is watching. You know what to do.

Specialness. Because you're all special, in your own special way:

posted by Dave In Texas at 09:12 PM

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