come to daddy

301 :glugglug

im having fun

i am single and sexy

lame

this thread is gay

z

I need a post bot

damn

15

i am hot

looking good

518

512

514

507

this is fun

506

no tits please

Mad postwhoring from Alan :1orglaugh

wow this thread has got a move along..

maybe they just want the $200 in free content that non-US wemasters automatically get for the longest thread of the week.

I've got a hole in me pocket

Who da whore? I da whore!

I'm pretty tired right now so I'm probably going to leave this thread to everyone else...

Um, I meant, Who da ho? Idaho!

I'm not greedy, I'm not rich
I don't think that life's a bitch

What They Did to Mary
Enoch sloggered down the lough
Revenge what he were after
He swore and cursed the wretched scum
For what they did to Mary.

Unlimbered he his rusty sword
And cracked his corded neck
He'd see the bastards rot in hell
For what they did to Mary.

Come OUT! he screamed, in crimson rage
Or is it you're too weary
To come and fight and pay in blood
For what ye did to Mary?

They came, they came to cut him down
Three wretches unrepentant.
He slew the three, and himself too
Not one was left to bury.

I found his body by the lough
And brought poor Enoch home.
I laid his body down to rest
Next to his darling Mary.

Love Poem to My Crayons
Crayons in my broken old box,
I colored with you when I had chicken pox.
Then I grew up and moved away,
But I took you wherever I stay.

Over the years,
Some lost a tip,
Others got a chip,
Some I lost,
And some I tossed.

Through all the years I've known you,
You've been so dear to me.
I can't believe that I have left with me, but only three.

W. Shakespeare

XI. "How like a winter hath my absence been"

HOW like a winter hath my absence been
From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen,
What old December's bareness everywhere!

And yet this time removed was summer's time: 5
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime
Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:

Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
But hope of orphans, and unfather'd fruit; 10
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;

Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer,
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

W. Shakespeare

X. Absence

BEING your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend
Nor services to do, till you require:

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end-hour 5
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu:

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, 10
But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are, how happy you make those;?

So true a fool is Love, that in your will
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.

W. Shakespeare

XII. A Consolation

WHEN in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate;

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, 5
Featured like him, like him with friends possest,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on Thee?and then my state, 10
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;

For thy sweet love remember'd, such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

W. Shakespeare

VI. A Madrigal

CRABBED Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, 5
Age like winter weather,
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare;
Youth is full of sport,
Age's breath is short, 10
Youth is nimble, Age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold,
Youth is wild, and Age is tame:?
Age, I do abhor thee; 15
Youth, I do adore thee:
O! my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee?
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long. 20

W. Shakespeare

VII. "Under the greenwood tree"

UNDER the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat?
Come hither, come hither, come hither! 5
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live i' the sun, 10
Seeking the food he eats
And pleased with what he gets?
Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall he see
No enemy 15
But winter and rough weather.

W. Shakespeare

VIII. "It was a lover and his lass"

IT was a lover and his lass
With a hey and a ho, and a hey nonino!
That o'er the green cornfield did pass
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing hey ding a ding: 5
Sweet lovers love the Spring.

Between the acres of the rye
These pretty country folks would lie:
This carol they began that hour,
How that life was but a flower: 10

And therefore take the present time
With a hey and a ho, and a hey nonino!
For love is crownèd with the prime
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing hey ding a ding: 15
Sweet lovers love the Spring.

Anonymous

IX. Present in Absence

ABSENCE, hear thou my protestation
Against thy strength,
Distance, and length;
Do what thou canst for alteration:
For hearts of truest mettle 5
Absence doth join, and Time doth settle.

Who loves a mistress of such quality,
He soon hath found
Affection's ground
Beyond time, place, and all mortality. 10
To hearts that cannot vary
Absence is Presence, Time doth tarry.

By absence this good means I gain,
That I can catch her,
Where none can watch her, 15
In some close corner of my brain:
There I embrace and kiss her;
And so I both enjoy and miss her.

getting closer?

W. Shakespeare

XIII. The Unchangeable

O NEVER say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify;
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie.

That is my home of love; if I have ranged, 5
Like him that travels, I return again,
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.

Never believe, though in my nature reign'd
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood, 10
That it could so preposterously be stain'd
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;

For nothing this wide universe I call,
Save thou, my rose: in it thou art my all.

W. Shakespeare

XIV. "To me, fair Friend, you never can be old"

TO me, fair Friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters' cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride;

Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd 5
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.

Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived; 10
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:

For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred,?
Ere you were born, was beauty's summer dead.

XV. Diaphenia

DIAPHENIA like the daffadowndilly,
White as the sun, fair as the lily,
Heigh ho, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as my lambs
Are belovèd of their dams; 5
How blest were I if thou wouldst prove me.

Diaphenia like the spreading roses,
That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,
Fair sweet, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as each flower 10
Loves the sun's life-giving power;
For dead, thy breath to life might move me.

Diaphenia like to all things blessèd
When all thy praises are expressèd,
Dear joy, how I do love thee! 15
As the birds do love the spring,
Or the bees their careful king:
Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!

W. Shakespeare

XLVI. A Sea Dirge

FULL fathom five thy father lies:
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change 5
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them,?
Ding-dong, bell.

William Shakespeare. 1564?1616

139. Aubade

HARK! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin 5
To ope their golden eyes:
With everything that pretty bin,
My lady sweet, arise!
Arise, arise!

why not offer a trip to NY for Dutch webmasters?

Andre

All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
~Poe

nice to see a bit of Shakespeare thrown in here.. lol

Madness Dagwolf, simpy madness :1orglaugh :Graucho

For every european webmaster yea! :thumbsup