So, uh, anybody still here?
- CloudNineGT
- Striding Hero
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So, uh, anybody still here?
Seems like a dumb question.
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- 250 Posts til Somewhere
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- SenisterDenister
- Haha you're still not there yet
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- Goretheglowingone
- Mamma's Gang member
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- SenisterDenister
- Haha you're still not there yet
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- Thor Kaufman
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- Megatron
- Mamma's Gang member
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Our users have posted a total of 388834 articles
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Registered Users: Megatron
We have 5265 registered users
The newest registered user is ravencooper
In total there are 60 users online :: 1 Registered, 0 Hidden and 59 Guests [ Administrator ] [ Moderator ]
Most users ever online was 586 on Thu Oct 21, 2010 2:32 pm
Registered Users: Megatron
- Goretheglowingone
- Mamma's Gang member
- Posts: 1280
- Joined: Thu Jun 22, 2006 7:49 am
- Location: DAC (YEA FUCKERS! WHAT'S IT TO YOU? HUH! HUH! , I Gotta go butt sex a nun now..
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- 250 Posts til Somewhere
- Posts: 2847
- Joined: Wed Jun 05, 2002 11:21 am
- Location: Going to School.
- SenisterDenister
- Haha you're still not there yet
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- Location: Cackalackyland
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.