My father died in his sleep last night. It is believed that he had a stroke.
His computer was still on this morning and his browser was opened to this board.
He had spoke laughingly about the GFY board, as being the most insane board on the net.
I don't know how many of you actually knew my father but I will tell you something about him.
The details of his life are quite inconsequential.... very well, where do i begin?
My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium
with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen
year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize,
he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark.
Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise
that only the genius possess and the insane lament. His childhood was typical.
Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring he'd make meat helmets.
When he was insolent he was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty
standard really. At the age of twelve he received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen
a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved his testicles. There really is nothing
like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
His computer was still on this morning and his browser was opened to this board.
He had spoke laughingly about the GFY board, as being the most insane board on the net.
I don't know how many of you actually knew my father but I will tell you something about him.
The details of his life are quite inconsequential.... very well, where do i begin?
My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium
with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen
year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize,
he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark.
Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise
that only the genius possess and the insane lament. His childhood was typical.
Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring he'd make meat helmets.
When he was insolent he was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty
standard really. At the age of twelve he received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen
a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved his testicles. There really is nothing
like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
ghfive::
it was sent to me via icq spam, dunno who it was 
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