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The Unofficial Badmovies.org Random Thought Thread!

Started by BTM, January 05, 2008, 10:12:17 PM

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indianasmith

"I shall smite you in the nostrils with a rod of iron, and wax your spleen with Efferdent!!"

Alex

Just found out about a new sexual position.

Its called Parcel Force (or FedEx for people in the states instead I guess).

You stay in all day but no one comes.
Hail to thyself
For I am my own master
I am my own god
I require no shepherd
For I am no sheep.

ER

Sometimes I like to tell jokes to my Buddhist friend, like this one: "You know what they say in the bardo, 'deaths a b***h, and then you live.'"
What does not kill me makes me stranger.

indianasmith

Did you hear about the Buddhist who refused Novocain while getting his teeth filled?

He wanted to transcend dental medication!    :bouncegiggle: :bouncegiggle: :bouncegiggle:
"I shall smite you in the nostrils with a rod of iron, and wax your spleen with Efferdent!!"

Svengoolie 3

Donald trump called state farm abd said ''Hey,  sad losuh,  'm I cuhvuhd? ''

The agent replied ''No,  putz.  We cover collision,  not collusion! ''
The doctor that circumcised Trump threw away the wrong piece.

ER

Remember that scene in Private Parts where the radio execs explained that the people who hated Howard Stern concentrated on him twice as much as those people who liked him?
What does not kill me makes me stranger.

Trevor

Quote from: Dark Alex on August 26, 2018, 03:53:01 PM
Just found out about a new sexual position.

Its called Parcel Force (or FedEx for people in the states instead I guess).

You stay in all day but no one comes.

:buggedout::bouncegiggle: :bouncegiggle:
We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness.

ER

I have the most mind-blowing story to tell you guys! What? Oh, it's time for lunch.
What does not kill me makes me stranger.

Leah

I kinda want to repaint my room from sky blue to wine red.
yeah no.

ER

Quote from: El Misfit on August 28, 2018, 09:01:30 AM
I kinda want to repaint my room from sky blue to wine red.
My buddy Mitch says sleeping in a red room draws negative entities into your dream state, so if you paint it, tell me if you encounter any of those.
What does not kill me makes me stranger.

Leah

Quote from: ER on August 28, 2018, 01:08:40 PM
Quote from: El Misfit on August 28, 2018, 09:01:30 AM
I kinda want to repaint my room from sky blue to wine red.
My buddy Mitch says sleeping in a red room draws negative entities into your dream state, so if you paint it, tell me if you encounter any of those.
My current familial situation is a giant negative entity.
yeah no.

lester1/2jr

rescued some tourists from the best western on the methadone mile here in Boston.

Boston is a nice city but this part of it is pretty awful: opioid addicts walking around out of it on drugs, either hanging out in the one section or walking in the street. not to disparage them, they need more help than the city has offered them, but not a good place for a hotel. some yelp reviews



this guy didn't think it was so bad


Svengoolie 3

I told you a time Travel joke,  but you didn't like it.
The doctor that circumcised Trump threw away the wrong piece.

ER

Pleasant dreams, everyone. May tonight's darkness bless you and tomorrow's dawn inspire you, and may your shoes never squeak when you're hiding from a serial killer.
What does not kill me makes me stranger.

ER

Ever found yourself wondering if maybe just perhaps Vincent Van Gogh didn't kill himself?

I have, so has my father (who says that's something we can never know) and we're not alone.

Earlier in the decade co-authors of a book that got some attention made a thoughtful case against suicide, and the film I watched Sunday, Loving Vincent, addressed the matter too.

There is no reason that Van Gogh couldn't have taken his life but there are some strong circumstantial factors that also weigh against it.

The evidence for his suicide begins with his sadly disturbed personality and concludes with him telling those with him at the end that his gunshot was self-inflicted.

The case against suicide lies in a lack of powder burns, the improbable angle of the fatal shot itself and its unlikely location, the abdomen instead of the head or heart, and the absence of the weapon itself along with no witnesses to Van Gogh either being out in the fields that day or to him limping home across a mile while mortally wounded.

The thought of that sad soul covering up someone else shooting him, possibly a local teenage boy who liked to torment Van Gogh and play at cowboys with a real gun, strikes me as sadder than suicide.

Aside from the art he left behind there was really no bright spot in this man's life any way you look at it.
What does not kill me makes me stranger.