As we hurry away to the end, my friend, Of this sad little farce called existence, We are sure that the future will bring one thing, And that is the grave in the distance. And so when our lives run along all wrong, And nothing seems real or certain, We can comfort ourselves with the thought (or not) Of that spectre behind the curtain. Warning: This site contains adult material!
Sex with no partner is like playing cards alone. Your own hand beats you." — Michael Whitmire.
"Remember: People who live in glass houses can see you masturbating in their bushes." — Dan Johnson.
Posted by BlackGold at 5/01/2006 06:58:00 PM
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