This thread is going to be stale and unimaginative, don't look.

naught

I give it two days before it disintegrates into a "push me, shove you". :nyah

Somebody say something?

[IMG]http://kbasa.smugmug.com/photos/177451710-L.jpg[/IMG]

Wutchyoosay?

[IMG]http://kbasa.smugmug.com/photos/177457898-L-1.jpg[/IMG]

Kneepuckalicious outfit.

[IMG]http://kbasa.smugmug.com/photos/177878648-L.jpg[/IMG]

What's wrong with all you people!?!?

Think of the poor bandwidth that we're wasting by posting nonsense!!

:blah :blah :blah :blah :blah







I'm such a sucker for a new post.

Oh oh, looks like Lisa just read this post :snore

At last!


A thread I'm qualified to comment on, being an expert on nothing.

Oh wait, should I be insulted?


Rod.:jester

Exxxccceellent thread. You've outdone yourself this time, Roy.

Twin pots sticking out
From each side of the bike's core
Chugging down the road

Steel, aluminum
Fiberglass, plastic, rubber
Handcrafted with soul

No chain to be lubed
No radiator to fill
The airhead awaits

My delicate sensibilities are being offended by this discussion. Send this to the doghouse immediately. I will never read or post on this forum again. Please apologize profusely and beg me to stay.
And I have a piece of property in Brooklyn that I'd like to talk to you about.

[LIST=1][*]CAN'T SEEM TO LOOK AWAY[/LIST]








[LIST=1][*]TRY TO DO WORK IN OFFICE[/LIST]












[LIST=1][*]SEND HELP . SPOCK McKOY :bottle :stick :laugh :bolt MICHAEL RICHARDS:buds












:stick :stick :stick :stick :bottle [/LIST]SOMETING ABOUT NOTHING (OXY:fight MORON)
we now return you back to the BMW Owners of America:wave :clap :clap

I see NOTHING! NO-THING!! :)

[IMG]http://barracks.4t.com/Schultz.jpg[/IMG]

June the 4th, 1973, was much like any other summer's day in Peterborough,
and Ralph Mellish, a file clerk at an insurance company, was on his way
to work as usual when Nothing happened!

Scarcely able to believe his eyes, Ralph Mellish looked down. But one
glance confirmed his suspicions. Behind a bush, on the side of the road,
there was no severed arm. No dismembered trunk of a man in his late
fifties. No head in a bag. Nothing.

For Ralph Mellish, this was not to be the start of any chain of events which would not, in no time at all, involve him in neither a tangled knot of suspicion, nor
any web of lies, which would, had he been not involved, surely have led
him to no other place, than the central criminal court of the Old Bailey.

.