Let's say for a minute, that hypothetically, everyone was in fact kung fu fighting. Now statistically speaking of course, this is impossible. Now hypothetically if they were, hypothetically of course. Now, would they all be performing the same so called Kung Fu move? Statistically speaking that is highly unlikely. This would also, hypothetically, be quite dangerous if it were to actually occur. Coming from a medical official, my wife, who is a doctor, she says that hypothetically, this would be dangerous. So, logically, this would not happen. So in fact, there is no way, impossible even, that everybody was Kung Fu Fighting.
Let's say for a minute, that hypothetically, everyone was in fact kung fu fighting. Now statistically speaking of course, this is impossible. Now hypothetically if they were, hypothetically of course. Now, would they all be performing the same so called Kung Fu move? Statistically speaking that is highly unlikely. This would also, hypothetically, be quite dangerous if it were to actually occur. Coming from a medical official, my wife, who is a doctor, she says that hypothetically, this would be dangerous. So, logically, this would not happen. So in fact, there is no way, impossible even, that everybody was Kung Fu Fighting.
The Feed Lord is here
twitchquotes:Michael "Imaqtpie" Santana slowly stroked his beard. There was only one thing on his mind. "I have a need..." he smirked. "A need to feed." His hand moved from his beard to his mouse. He locked in kog maw with a grin. "The Feed Lord is here."
Michael "Imaqtpie" Santana slowly stroked his beard. There was only one thing on his mind. "I have a need..." he smirked. "A need to feed." His hand moved from his beard to his mouse. He locked in kog maw with a grin. "The Feed Lord is here."
twitchquotes:Hey T1, I was wondering if you could please take a month off of going to the gym to slim down a bit? Your huge masculine, muscular frame intimidates me and distracts me from the gameplay that I'm here to savor. Also please try to shout less I have sensitive ears. Thank you
Hey T1, I was wondering if you could please take a month off of going to the gym to slim down a bit? Your huge masculine, muscular frame intimidates me and distracts me from the gameplay that I'm here to savor. Also please try to shout less I have sensitive ears. Thank you :)
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."